Rambles On The Pinnacle Face

We had a rambling day climbing at Mount Arapiles today. I was still feeling a little stiff and sore (I blame Ivan the terrible) so, after waffling about, decided on climbing an easy route on The Pinnacle Face. Doug was very kind and let me lead all the pitches, which was really no big deal as the hardest pitch was only grade 10 and then only for a short section. First off, we wandered up Ordinary Trees. I attempted to join pitch one to pitch two (walk along a ledge to a corner), but even though I only placed about two pieces of gear on the first pitch, I still had horrendous rope drag so we had to move the belay anyway. Pitch three is probably the money pitch up a corner on featured slab, and then the route joins Tiptoe Ridge for the last two pitches. I caught up with a party climbing Tiptoe Ridge just as I came up to the penultimate belay. Again, I considered joining the last two pitches into one long pitch, but you would need to simul-climb them both to do this as the rope drag would be unmanageable otherwise. 

It was only noonish when we finished so I thought we might as well tick off Introductory Route as well, so we walked down Central Gully and around to Introductory Route. I had led the first pitch of this a few weeks ago when we climbed Siren (share the same first pitch) and was surprised how much easier pitch one felt (it is only grade four) this time around and how easy it was too find adequate gear (I found the gear fiddly last time). Mind you, I only placed two or three pieces so maybe that makes a difference. 

 Doug following Ordinary Trees

I caught up with a guided party at the top of pitch two, so continued above them to a smaller ledge and brought Doug up. I was feeling a bit desperate not to get stuck behind the guided party as they were only on pitch three and had started before we started climbing Ordinary Trees. It would be a long wait if we had to wait. Luckily, for some unknown reason (gear placements perhaps) the leader had climbed a somewhat scruffy looking chimney crack to the left of the buttress that the route actually goes up, so I was able to climb up beside them and, by taking the 10 variation, completely avoided getting tangled up with them. We managed to sidle past them on the last pitch as well, aided by the fact that I was only placing two or three pieces of gear each pitch, so we could move quickly.

Same Old, Same Old

This is one of those rambling blog posts that is about either nothing much, or a lot of different things. It all depends on your perspective. When I got up at 5.30 am this morning, the sun was still an hour below the horizon but there was enough light for a morning walk so I sauntered off to the east along the road past the Natimuk Cemetery. Every day I take these walks I think that I really should have my camera along as I've been witness to an endless series of spectacular sunrises and sunsets. Today must have been one of the most impressive. Grey clouds loomed over Mount Arapiles to the west, strings of red virga streaked the sky overhead, flashes of lightening lit up the surrounding fields, and, in the east, the sun was tipping over the horizon in a searing ball of colour. 

It's hard to believe it is six weeks since we first arrived at Natimuk to climb at Mount Arapiles. We've done a lot of climbs in that time, but, not near as many as I might have thought. Of course, during that six weeks we've been away twice to do other trips, so have actually only been at Natimuk for half that time. Although it is November, the temperature (at least right now) is still okay for climbing, and I am looking forward to hanging out here, climbing regularly and resting regularly without any pressure to travel any place else. When you hate driving as much as we do, traveling becomes detestable.

 Sunset at Gippsland Lakes in lieu of sunrise at Natimuk

I've been fiddling around with my diet again trying to find something sustainable that doesn't leave me with carbohydrate cravings yet provides sufficient energy to fuel all my activities and facilitate recovery. To that end, I've been on an ultra low carbohydrate (below 30 grams/day) diet for the last month. I feel pretty good with sufficient energy for low level activities like walking and kayaking, but, my energy for more intense workouts has significantly flagged, and, judging by how I feel this morning, I'm not recovering all that well either. I'm not sure if it is the after effects of a fairly hectic two weeks, the battle with Ivan the terrible yesterday, or the cumulative effects of a low carbohydrate diet. Today is definitely one of those days when I don't really feel as if I am holding my own. 

Finally, having a visit from two good friends from Canada was fabulous, but, reinforced the idea that moving away from Nelson (which is an awesome little town you could easily grow old and die in) was the right option. While it was wonderful to hear all about what everyone back home was getting up to, I also found myself glad that I was living somewhere new and different, engaging in new and different activities. I've always been addicted to novelty, and, hearing about the 15th annual trip to the Kaslo Hilton last year from R, only pushed the insistent thought "same old, same old" into my mind.

Just Slightly F**ked

So, here we are back at Mount Arapiles after two weeks hiking and kayaking with our Canadian friends. It was wonderful to see friends from home again, but also a busy time for Doug and I. Our friends are great cycle tourers, but now, as they creep past 65 years of age, that focused activity seems to be taking a bit of a toll. By good luck and good management, neither Doug nor I have obsessively done only one sport and have thus avoided the over-use injuries that seem to plaque so many endurance athletes. Kayaking and climbing are good counterpoints to hiking, and, of course, if we have access to a gym, weight training is best of all. 

R and M peddle off again

I noticed myself getting a little stiffer over the last two weeks when I did not have time to do my usual thrice weekly body weight exercises. People in the tribe (the paleo/whole foods/functional training tribe) are always banging on about how weight training is better than stretching for maintaining mobility and it seems they could be right. 

First climbing day back at Arapiles today and it was Doug's pick. He had settled on climbing the two star, three pitch Phoenix to Flinders Lane on Tiger Wall, then walking left to climb Ivan (Ivan the terrible), and finally finishing up the three star Blockbuster on Bluff Major. I felt totally out of sync with climbing today and only led one pitch all day, which was hardly a pitch at all. Doug did a stellar job jumping straight back in with both feet. In my defence, I can only say I am likely a bit more fatigued than Doug as I continue my habit of walking two hours a day which Doug does not. 

The first pitch of Phoenix goes up a steep, intermittently smooth corner and felt tricky even for an Arapiles grade 11. The difficulty gradually eases over the next two pitches and the final pitch, which I led, was hardly a pitch at all, mostly a traverse with a short easy wall at the end. The one star route Ivan must be named after some brutish Russian thug as it is a short, steep, slippery, awkward, half off-width curving crack with thuggish opening moves. The remainder of the route is only minimally less beefy. Finally, Blockbuster is a lovely clean curving crack up a clean steep wall and is worth the three stars. 

 Doug starts up pitch two of Phoenix

We descended via a rappel off the back of Bluff Major and then a scramble down towards Alis where we met a party of two Aussies who kindly offered us the use of their double ropes to rappel the last 40 metres to the ground instead of slithering down the chained Alis (which did look somewhat unpleasant). As usual in Australia, everything was justly slightly off. The young lads had a hugely tangled rope that took a half hour to unravel as they insisted on butterflying it double instead of single (always tangles ropes), and the ropes were joined with a figure 8 follow through backed up with an overhand. A method which hasn't been used for 20 years in Canada as the knot is large and prone to jamming. They were the second party we saw today using dog-bones (aka quick draws or sport draws) as runners which must result in horrendous rope drag at Arapiles where the routes wander and the protection is frequently off to the side, or tucked way back under roofs. Just another half-f**ked kind of Australian thing.

Kayaking Gippsland Lakes

Gippsland Lakes is a popular Victorian holiday destination with a series of large salt water lakes - Wellington, Victoria, Reeve and King - that run tepidly out to the sea through a dredged entrance at Lakes Entrance in the northeast. Two years previously, Doug and I had done a short four day sea kayak trip through the area, launching at Lakes Entrance and paddling to Bunga Arm where we stayed for two nights, before pulling out at Paynesville. At that time, we hadn't spent a lot of time in our new single sea kayaks and were glad to be paddling in protected waters. The paddling is not spectacular, the land and seascape is too tamed by nearby and encroaching civilisation for that, but it is pleasant, and, in the off season, when the powerboats and crowds are absent, an enjoyable trip is possible paddling around the various islands.

 Just another shitty Gippsland Lake sunset

This time around we were paddling with two of our old Canadian friends who were on a bicycle tour around Victoria and Tasmania. We left from King Lake Waterfront Caravan Park at Eagle Point where we had got a good deal on camping, caravan and car storage, and paddled east along the shoreline to Point Fullarton. Rounding Point Fullarton we began to see black swans with fluffy grey chicks trailing behind, and their sonorous calls would accompany us for the rest of the trip. Paddling through McMillan Passage between Paynesville and Raymond Island it is hard not to be somewhat boggled by the amount of money sitting on the waterfront in large houses and equally ostentatious boats. After a brief stop at Montague Point, we gladly left this excessive development behind and crossed over to Sperm Whale Head. It was too late in the day to paddle all the way to Bunga Arm, so we found a campsite by the shoreline and stopped for the night amidst a spectacular sunset.

 Calm waters and sunny skies early in the trip

Next day we ambled our way up Bunga Arm, stopping at Rotten Island and Ocean Grange before pulling into one of the Bunga Arm campsites. When empty, these camps are delightful, positioned as they are between the sheltered waters of Bunga Arm and the pounding surf of the Tasman Sea on the desolate 90 Mile Beach. The afternoon was spent wandering along the beach. The forecast for the next two days was for strong winds and heavy rain at times, and, although we would have liked to linger at Bunga Arm, either exploring the east end of the arm or nearby Lake Reeve, we thought it best to paddle west to Emu Bight campground where there was a covered shelter. 

 Bunga Arm sunset

Accordingly, we paddled west, winding our way through narrow passages between low lying islands. On the eastern side of Crescent Island, a pelican colony was making the sort of raucous deep throated sound that is characteristic of this large sea bird when gathered in groups. Most were strutting about on land between the thin trunks of melaleuca but some were bathing in the shallow waters. West of Point Wilson we stopped at the delightful Trouser Point where a sandspit protrudes into Lake Victoria, terns, pelicans and swans roost on the sandspit, and soft succulent ground cover splays over the sand. In the early afternoon we paddled into Emu Bight where a narrow stretch of beach runs into the sandy shallows. The sun was out and we all went swimming although the water was pretty chilly this early in the spring. The campsite at Emu Bight is road accessible but conveniently deserted so we picked a site near the covered shelter and close to a portage route. 

Pelicans bathing near Crescent Island

Two days of strong winds followed. The first day we also had heavy rain in the middle of the day tapering to showers in the late afternoon. The shelter made camp life much more comfortable as it was miserable down at the beach where drifting sand was threatening to bury our kayaks. There are walking tracks leaving from Emu Bight winding through the banksia and melaleuca forest and we made use of them both days when the rain was not streaming down taking walks to Lake Reeve, Cygnet Swamp and Loch Sport. Both M and I saw the elusive Hog Deer, apparently introduced from Indonesia in the late 1800's and found only here.

After two enforced rest days we were anxious to paddle again and on our sixth day out we paddled west along Sperm Whale Head into a fresh NW breeze. We had a brief stop just before Pelican Point at a convenient picnic table, and then floated past the pelicans and terns on the sandspit at the aptly named Pelican Point. We paddled into a picnic area at Loch Sport where we could drop off our garbage and then headed directly into the NW wind to Storm Point. There are nice campsites here but they are also road accessible which makes them less appealing. Finally, we turned downwind and paddled past Waddy Point to make camp on some public land to the east. 

 Black swans huddled against the 30 knot winds

Our last day on the water we had a 25 km paddle east to Eagle Point. The sun rose in a spectacular flare of red as pelicans and swans drifted slowly past camp. The wind had died completely and we paddled on flat, calm waters east past a series of small points and bays. Terns were wheeling acrobatically overhead and then diving straight into the water fishing. A gaggle of pelicans was lined up in order of size, from the smaller fledgelings to the older adults on Turner Point. Black swans with fluffy grey chicks were swimming strongly on the still waters, and, near Paynesville, a pod of bottlenose dolphins were fishing in the glassy waters, their sleek backs breaking the surface all around us. Near Paynesville, the boat traffic increased and the peacefulness of early morning on the water was broken. At Paynesville we paddled through connecting channels in a residential waterfront development where obese houses on too small plots of land were tended by equally obese owners before emerging back onto Lake King just east of Point Fullarton, and finally, to rest at Eagle Point. 

Last morning on the water

Plans Made In Haste

After a couple of day walks in Grampians National Park our Canadian friends seemed anxious to be off on their bicycles again. Doug and I, who have never understood the appeal of cycle touring, were perplexed, but prepared to be supportive, although we had been looking forward to spending more than two days with them. Sitting around casually at dinner on what was supposed to be our last night together (coincidentally Doug's 51st birthday), we began discussing their cycle plans - which, at least to non-bicycle tourers, looked remarkably uninteresting (cycling through farmland to Wangaratta). One thing led to another, and, as we had been extolling the marvels of Australian sea kayaking for the last two days, plans suddenly changed rapidly and a potential sea kayak trip was on the agenda if it was possible to rent a double sea kayak in Victoria for R and M to paddle. 

Now, of course, the best course of action would have been to take a day to sort out such details as where and when a kayak could rented, how we would transport it, where we would paddle, and so forth. But, R is not the sort of person who likes "sitting about", while I am the type of person who is too much influenced by other people's emotions. Put these two together and who have a somewhat impetuous plan quickly conceived and just as quickly enacted. 

Next morning, R and M were up early and packed up ready to either begin cycling towards Wangaratta or begin driving towards a sea kayak rental destination. Feeling somewhat propelled along, Doug and I also packed up the caravan and we all drove into Halls Gap where we could get mobile reception. Sea kayaking is not a popular sport in Australia (despite the amazing coastline that is conducive to self-propelled sea adventures) so renting a double kayak in Victoria came down to one of two companies. The first was in Melbourne and, of course, offered many challenges, such as transporting three kayaks (our two singles and the rental double) through heavy traffic. The second was in Bairnsdale near Gippsland Lakes, and would prove logistically more simple, although the actual kayaking would be less interesting. Later, we would also discover that renting from Bairnsdale meant we got a much worse kayak for a much higher price. 

 Paddling in Corner Inlet

Neither company answered the telephone when we rang so we were forced to leave messages enquiring about kayak rentals. In hindsight, this is completely expected as both companies are relatively small and the owners could (were, in fact) be out guiding kayak tours (usually school groups) not sitting around the shop waiting for those telephone calls that never come. Again, I should reiterate that the smart thing to do would have been to spend the day planning a trip and awaiting a call back from both rental companies. This would have allowed much more rational decision making. Instead, however, we all somehow decided that we would go to Wilsons Promontory for a couple of days hiking and work out the kayak trip from there. Exactly how this was supposed to work, as I doubt we would have mobile reception at Wilsons Promontory, is not exactly clear to me in hindsight, but, at the time (and in haste) it seemed like a good idea. 

Doug and I had previously done sea kayak trips around both Gippsland Lakes and Corner Inlet and either of these seemed like a good destination for a sea kayak trip in Victoria. Corner Inlet, of course, offers more interesting paddling, but requires more careful planning as, despite all the islands available for overnight camp sites, the large tidal range combined with shallow water depths means that only some islands provide suitable landing sites. A kayak trip to Corner Inlet would involve renting not only a kayak but a trailer, and at least three trips into the heart of Melbourne to pick up the kayak at the beginning of the trip and drop it off at the end. Our caravan would need to be stored somewhere and, if we had windy conditions, the paddling would be more difficult for R and M. Gippsland Lakes, with smaller tides, and many well appointed campsites is a much easier trip to manage (particularly on short notice) but is much more developed and offers somewhat less exciting paddling. 

 Black Swans Corner Inlet

It was nearly noon by the time we got away on the (what turned out to be) long and somewhat harrowing drive towards Wilsons Promontory. R and M's bicycles and gear was stuffed into our caravan so that we could not access any food or drinks, so we were forced to visit a grocery store in some small town along the way to buy supplies for lunch which we barbequed at a nearby park. Driving through Melbourne was stressful, tedious and slow as we missed getting a toll-road (too much haste again) and had to sit through heavy afternoon traffic in the suburbs. We eventually, after getting lost a couple of times and having to visit yet another grocery store (we had rushed off so precipitously that we did not have much in the way of food), arrived at Lang Lang and a small, quiet campground where we had stayed two summers ago. It was late, we were all tired, and, as we barbequed a late dinner, another storm blew in and it began to rain. Hardly an auspicious start. 

The following morning, I cooked another breakfast for four people in our small caravan and called the Gippsland area kayak company getting hold of the owner, Brett, who told me I could rent a double kayak if I were to pick it up the next day between 10 am and noon. I had a poor mobile connection and feeling pressed, agreed to these conditions. We could have got a better kayak at a cheaper price from the Melbourne company, but, the thought of driving back into Melbourne, renting a trailer, and driving off towards Corner Inlet was all too much and the Gippsland kayak rental seemed the best option. Suddenly, Wilsons Promontory was off the agenda, and kayaking was on, in a hurry. 

 Soldier Crabs on the beach at Corner Inlet

We had another long drive from Lang Lang (which was out of our way now that we were not going to Wilsons Promontory) to Eagle Point (near Paynesville). Along the way we had to stop at Sale to buy seven days of groceries for the trip, which was relatively quick for Doug and I (who have done this many times before) but much slower for R and M who had not (at least for many years) and were unfamiliar with the lay-out of Australian grocery stores. Doug was kept busy trying to find a caravan park where we could camp for the night and launch from the next day as we could not transport three boats at one time.

Wearily, we arrived at King Lake Caravan Park (a rather strange establishment with mostly permanent holiday caravans but clean amenities, cheap prices and easy water access) at 3.30 pm for a late lunch. The afternoon was spent in a flurry of activity packing up all the gear one needs for a week of kayaking. It was another somewhat exhausting and somehow unsatisfying day. 

On Friday, Doug, R and M went into Bairnsdale to pick up the kayak (and buy some more items R and M thought they needed) while I shuttled loads down to the small beach and packed up our single kayaks. At around 11.30 am, I was happy to see our car returning with a large, heavy, beaten up, but at least functional double kayak on top. Packing an unfamiliar kayak, particularly when you are carrying seven days of food and water, takes some time, and the first pack of the double kayak was not all that efficient, but, by the next day, R had worked out an efficient method for storing all their gear and things thereafter went much faster and more smoothly. At 12. 45 pm, we launched the kayaks and began paddling. That, however, is the subject of another blog post.

Wandering In Wonderland And Lost On Abrupt

Two of our good friends from Nelson, BC, arrived in Australia in spring for a cycle tour and we were SO excited to be able to spend a little time with them. After arriving in Melbourne, they cycled west along coast roads and then north up to Dunkeld where we met them late one afternoon. We had a couple of days to spend with them walking in the Grampians before they continued cycling east to Wangaretta and eventually on to Tasmania. 

Our first hike was up Mount Abrupt, which should take an hour or two return, but which we managed to spread over quite a few hours as 3/4 of the party managed to get lost! Floods in 2010 washed out much of the track and it has been rerouted slightly south of the original location. A good track switchbacks up under the cliffs of Mount Abrupt and we were strolling along chatting when we came to a very prominent switchback marked with three yellow arrows. I took the switchback to the south and shortly thereafter arrived on the ridge north of Mount Abrupt where I stopped in the sun to wait for the other three, who never came. 

 R and M on top of Mount Abrupt

After waiting five minutes, in some perplexity, I jogged back down the track to the prominent switch and walked a short distance north under an overhanging cave before thinking "this is so overgrown and obviously not a track they would not come this way." I turned back, walked a short distance back up the main track, rethought the whole affair, came back to the switchback and jogged along a faint trail into a saddle south of Signal Peak hollering at the top of my voice. The faint track branched somewhere in the saddle and I decided to turn back yet again in case by some remarkable feat of levitation or translocation, Doug, Roland and Murielle had actually passed by me on the main track. 

 

Yellow arrows might be hard to miss

Back on the ridge, there was still no sign of anyone so I decided to hike up Mount Abrupt thinking that, at some point, all three would realise something had gone wrong and would turn back. I topped out on Mount Abrupt, but did not stay long as it was windy, cold, and I was still wondering where everyone was. Hiking back along the track I ran through various possible search methods in my mind, but, luckily, did not have to initiate any as a short distance above the spot where I had initially waited I came upon a much chagrined Roland and Murielle. Doug, apparently, had sprinted down to the vehicle to see if I was there, but, technology allowed us to call his mobile telephone and he quickly turned around and came back meeting us on the summit just 40 minutes after leaving the vehicle. There was much consternation about how three people had missed three big yellow signs. 

View from The Pinnacle

Next day, Doug planned a circuit walk that would take us through the popular Wonderland Range. The track out of the Wonderland parking lot is pretty jammed with walkers but travels up an interesting little rock canyon, grandiloquently called "Grand Canyon" to a narrower slot canyon (Silent Street) and soon out onto the rock shelves of The Pinnacle. There is a fenced lookout on The Pinnacle and you can look out to the flat land to the east as well as north and south along the range. We continued south past the Garden of the Grampians to a management tracked. We took the management track down steeply to an old "closed" track (supposedly for flood damage although there is none evident). Half a kilometre of bushy track led to Turret Falls, a thin stream of water over a short cliff, where we rejoined a good (open) track that led quickly back to the Wonderland parking lot.

Climbing Lessons

I am not by any means a great climber, it would probably be even a stretch to say I am a good climber. When I am climbing my best, I can lead straight forward 5.10a's or, occasionally, if I know the route 5.10b (19/20) clip-ups. On gear, I'm struggling to lead 5.8 (16) with any degree of confidence. Climbing, particularly on gear, is such a mental game, and I frequently (especially on gear routes) freak myself out worrying about whether I'll get gear, whether I'll be too pumped to place it, and, of course, whether it will actually hold if I fall on it. 

Today was one of those days when you psyche yourself out the first lead of the day and never really get your mojo back. Happens to all climbers, at all grades, drives all climbers crazy, but, in the end, you have to learn something from it and move on. 

I certainly learnt a few things today. First, if you look at the climb and think it will be hard, it will feel hard, no matter what. Much better to look at the climb, think the moves through, work out where you will rest, where you will place gear, where you will move on through, and then set off with confidence. 

Second, don't overprotect. I tend to do this on gear climbs when I am feeling sketched out. Sometimes, I look down and see that the double length draw from my last piece reaches down to my second last piece. Sure, you need the confidence of a piece of gear to make a hard move, but, at some point, over-protecting just saps your strength and makes you even more doubtful about your ability to lead the climb. 

Stay calm, breathe deep, shake out, and go for it.