Froggy

The last month in Sydney has been pretty crap weather wise - rain almost every day and cooler temperatures to deal with, but without the sun to help with the morning commute. So, a decision Anita and I made some time ago to head north for some climbing at "Frog Buttress" (Mt French) in QLD in June seemed like a stroke of genius - well, the truth of the matter was that it was almost entirely Anita's genius, as I have purposely avoided climbing at Frog since I took the sport up some 20 years ago. The reason for such reluctance is that the style of climbs Frog is renowned for - cracks - is the style I am generally least well versed in and expert at. I've generally taken the Mike Law view to crack climbing; "start at the crack, move one meter to the left, and go up the wall". Not so easily applied at Frog, however, as nearly every route is a vertical crack, many of which require various styles of "jamming". As the unpleasant word conjures, this technique requires various appendages to be wedged into said crack - feet, toes, knees, elbows, forearms, wrists, knuckles, fingers...whole bodies sometimes - often in painful contortions and sometimes mixed with blood and tears. And why? (a) in oder to remain attached to the cliff and (b) to make upward progress. That is not to say that in the past I haven't had success on cracks - but I tend to make them real grovels (I still remember the near nervous breakdowns I've had on "Thundercrack"(21) and "Morfydd" (19) at Araps, on "No Complications" (15) at the Wolgan and on "Amen Corner" (18) at Piddo. The one redeeming feature of crack climbing, of course, is that the gear is generally bomber - so even if the climbing is painful it is generally safe. More recently I had a genuine leader fall out of crack route coincidently named "French Crack" (17, also at Araps) in the presence of E and Karel (of course I take no hesitation in listing its new grade of 17 - at 16 it was obviously a sandbag). Anyway - if my (pipe) dreams of doing anything at Yosemite are ever to materialize a good dose of Froggy is probably in order.

Although driving from Sydney to Frog can be done in a big day, we decided to break the trip up by going inland to Mt Kaputar, with a view to scrambling about on some of the volcanic outcrops. Having camped at the top (1400 m), however, our plans were dashed by a phenomenal thunderstorm that came in during the night and pretty much soaked most of the stuff in the tent (time for a new tent!) - not to mention keeping things wet and chilly the next day. Persistent cloud also reduced visibility to about 50 feet, so the next morning we packed our soggy cold selves into the car and headed back to Narrabri, before heading north. Rather than go via Moree, we took a smaller road which takes the northern part of Mt Kaputar and stopped by the "Sawn Rocks" - fantastic volcanic columns not too far from the car, and well worth a visit if you are in the area. Arrived at Frog well after dark (again) but at least had a great campsite equipped with A-grade fireplace - and even firewood! In contrast to most camping places in NSW where they have either prohibited campfires (Blue Mountains), or provide the fireplace but require you to bring your own wood (Kaputar), at Froggy the friendly rangers bring you fresh wood every day. Unbelievable!

What followed were 3 magic days of climbing - perfect cool-to-warm days, low humidity = dry hands, easy access to the climbs, no sunscreen required, great camping and a warm fire to keep things sane at night. For the most part we stayed on the easier starred climbs, and I cunningly managed to get myself up most routes without any jamming at all! However I was feeling a little under done. What I needed was a real battle - to make me feel that I had truly experienced what Frog was all about, and I found it in a climb called "Infinity" (19). Infinity not only takes one of the best lines at the crag, it is also one of only a handful of climbs to receive 4 out of 4 possible stars, with the guide claiming it to be possibly the best climb at the grade in the country! I was sold, and although the tick-list to date included only 14s, 15s and 16s, I thought I should be capable of handling 19 + 2 = 21 (coming from the school that automatically add 2 grades to any crack route). The bottom 10 m of Infinity can be climbed via one of two possible seams - the more direct (LH) is described in the guide as a "super old school off-width start…(and the)…only way to go for apprentice gruntologists. All the sane people start in the corner to the right". Needless to say I started in the RH corner, which had some powerful moves but did not constitute the crux. At this point I had to make a decision as to which cams to place and which to save for higher up - always a bit of a gamble, as our combined "rack" only constituted 2 cams of every size and there was 40 m of crack to cater for. As it turned out I picked the perfect ones to leave behind in the RH seam as I gingerly swung into the main LH seam, but this didn't completely absolve me of trouble higher up.

The few meters which came next - through a bulge purportedly the crux didn't trouble me too badly (one solid jam - not too painful), which lead to another ~10 m of reasonably solid but cruisy climbing where I extensively walked first a green, then a red Camalot (or the other way round?) up the perfectly uniform splitter seam. I was starting to feel cocky like I had this thing in the bag. At this point (about 2/3 up) the seam opened to slightly bigger than fist size as it curved to the right through steeper territory before straitening for about 10 m of perfect verticality. This is where my troubles really started. I had pretty much worked out that the only way I was going to be able to climb this section was via jamming - a lot! (up to elbows with both hands). The tactic of walking cams with me up the seam became significantly more difficult now that my vision was severely restricted by contorted and restricted arms and feet. A few grunty moves later and I found myself in a pretty sustained position - both fists jammed and toes mercilessly squashed into the seam with the gold Camelot that I really wanted to protect the next ~5 meters below my feet. No matter what I tried I just couldn't retrieve the cam from my stance. My strength was fading and I was entertaining thoughts of failure - flight style. Nothing for it but to try to reverse the moves and down-climb what for me was the crux. Somehow managed this, gained a rest of sorts, then had to re-climb the crux on really tired arms to another awkward stance to the side (another rest of sorts) placed the retrieved cam as high as I could get it, then re-inserted myself into the trench and jammed the next 5 meters for all I was worth till finally a horizontal was reached allowing more gear and a considerably easier last 10 m of twin cracks to the top. Talk about being put through the wringer! Great climb and very relieved and satisfied to have ticked it clean! Without question the highlight of the trip for me.

We had another days climbing at Frog (our third). By this stage our bodies were pretty sore(upper back and shoulders in particular, and my hands and forearms were grazed as i eshewed taping them as i should have for Infinity). Time for the next phase of the trip. We drove east to catch up with my sister, her partner, and my little nephew and niece at Mudgeeraba for the night. The following day (Thursday) we shopped at Burleigh Heads before marveling at the vulgarity of the Gold Coast en route to the more pleasant Sunshine Coast at Coolum, where we stayed with Anita's folks for two nights. On our way back south we were hoping to get 1/2 a days climb in on the granite domes of Moonbi (just north of Tamworth), but despite bashing around the base for a few hours just couldn't find the starts of the climbs I have such fond memories of. This also involved avoiding contact with a pretty unhelpful and unfriendly landholder whom we had earlier approached re access (the sign on the gate read "Tresspassers will be shot. Those who survive will be shot again" - or words to that effect - fortunately his neighbour was a lovely fellow). We eventually accepted defeat and settled in for the long drag back to Sydney - this time via Captain Thunderbolts way - which is a real beauty if you haven't driven it before. Ahh crap - work awaits.

Summit of Mt Kaputar

Sawn Rocks

biggest crystals I've ever seen!

the pillars of Frog, "right" side

great camping!

Anita topping out on "Mechanical Prune" (15)

and ladden to the gills on "Electric Lead" (14)

and mid way up "Devils Wart" (15)

Langles going through crux moves on "Infinity" (19)

then taking a cheeky rest before the business end of the climb

and looking down the "vein of pain"

Anita showing how the J word is done on "Elastic Rurp" (17)

Another 3-star lace-up, this time "Micron" (16)

Anita and I had nothing to do with Jackson's spiderman fettish. Of course he is in disguise by day. Also; Jessica with "Duck Duck", ready for another day at Kindy.

Roadkill

Warning. This report contains images of dead animals which might offend some viewers.

The riddle of what has been excavating my veggie patch on a nightly basis, yet without consuming the veggies themselves (automatically ruling out possums - which eat everything - even poisonous rhubarb - leaves and all), has been solved. It was suggested to me by someone else in the area that if the excavations were conical (they are), then I might have a marauding bandicoot living nearby. They burrow rich soil for worms and other invertebrates. This suspicion was confirmed in an unfortunate manner on Sunday morning as I rolled out on the bike. There, just down the street in the middle of the road was the form of a creature I've never set eyes upon before. My book on Australian mammals confirmed unequivocally that it was a long-nosed bandicoot. What's more, later that evening, I pursued an oft-heard rustling in the garden into the bush, to be met with alarm calls "KE….KE…" - akin to the squeak made by treading on a rubber toy. These matched exactly those described in the field guide. So, along with positive IDs of possums (ring and brush-tailed....yawn), and sugar gliders (somewhat more exciting), I can report that I share my abode with another oddball marsupial that is uniquely Australian. Hopefully the next one I get a good gander at will not be sleeping roadside.

And while on the topic of roadkill, later whilst climbing out of Galston gorge with Anita and BT, I noticed another Australian I've never before set eyes upon - what I think is an owlet nightjar - sort of like a miniature tawny frogmouth. I'm sure I have these (nightjars) out the back of my place - I just don't know how to recognize the call yet.

That's it for the dead animals! The rest of Sunday was consumed building a flight cage for the budgie I inherited from John and Francis. I bought him/her a friend, but they weren't getting on so well. I decided that a bigger cage was in order. Inspiration was in the form of the cages I have been building to keep the possums out of my pots. There is a bit of a bicycle theme here as well, as the frame for the tubular construction is in the form of brand new Mavic GEL280 rims - strong and light, they do the job perfectly! Ham and I procured about a dozen of these a few years ago from a shop offloading them for $5 a pop, with a view do doing some track racing and building a stack of wheels for the job. But as that never quite got off the ground, I hope Ham wont mind me putting them to an alternative use.

Mysterious diggings - exhibit A

exhibit B

exhibit C

The new Mavic Budgie - during construction, with the old abode in the background

And installed

Wolgan Valley

The last time I climbed at the Wolgan, Iain and I had a bit on epic on "Excaliber", which rockets up the 100 m upper cliff of Old Baldy. We finished the climb after dark and stumbled back into camp at about 11:30 pm that evening. It took us most of the next day to retrieve gear we had left at various points. This sealed a perfect 3 out of 3 with respect to numbers of days E and I had climbed together at the Wolgan and returned to camp after dark. So it was somewhat surprising that E nominated (and Kate agreed) to returning to the Wolgan for a bit of camping and climbing with young Ollie in tow.

Most of us arrived on the Saturday morning. Camp was eventually established at the campsite across the river - 4WDs only now - but Tony kindly ferried the contents of the Ferrari across. In attendance - Tony, Cathy, Iain, Kate Ollie, Jeremy, Claire, Anita and I. On Saturday arvo Tony, Anita and I made our way up to the Coke Ovens for a spot of climbing. We had a great time on "Dan the Bulldog" (17) before heading back to camp. Remarkably, we even made it back to camp before true dark had set in (although the evening chill was certainly established), breaking the after-dark hoodoo. However, we arrived back at camp to discover that the Bogans From Hell had arrived and set up camp next door. How's the serentity? Drinking since they arrived in the early afternoon, the boozing, tree-felling, swearing at maximum volume, a stint of country music, and more boozing and swearing continued till about 4 am. You can imagine how relieved we were at signs of the camp being dismantled the next morning. Yippee! We finally had the place to ourselves. That afternoon E, Tony, Cathy, Anita and I headed back to the Coke Ovens (where we had stashed our climbing gear). Anita and I tackled "Marchiage" (20), whilst Tony made a valiant effort, including some improvised aiding, on the horrendous looking jamb crack that is "Sizzler" (19+2 = 21). E did well to get a mostly clean second under the belt. I don't think any of us will be lining up to jump on it again soon. We had an assorted play on "Deathbed Confessions" (13) and "dtbulldog" before heading back to camp, again before dark had set in.

Monday morning arrived. Jezz and Claire headed off early. Tony helped Anita and I back across the river, then we said our goodbyes to E and Kate. Tony, Cathy, Anita and I then plodded up and along the very pretty track to the Coal Mines cliffs, which I hadn't seen before. Ticked "Khe San" (20), which had the added surprise of a wasp nest encounter after the crux, followed by the mega classic "Monitor Madness" (18), which winds its way for 50 m up a curving arete. Even found a fossil protruding 1/2 way up. See, unless a devious God actually exists, all this sandstone nonsense used to lie under the ocean a long time ago. Once again, perfect weather for climbing on a winters day. Alas, all good things come to an end, rather abruptly too once the sun drops and the evening chill returns. Back to Sydney and the inanity of work mode.

great Newnes camping

E discussing climbing moves

Ollie eating the tick list

Possums doing the washing up

Tony at war with "Sizzler"

Tony high on the second pitch of "Dan the Bulldog"

E leading 1st pitch of Dan...

Fossil shell protruding high on "Monitor Madness"

Anita giving a silurian growl - as you do - at the end of "Monitor Madness"

Dirtworks 09

Dirtworks 07 was my first venture into the world of mtb racing. I was somewhat shellshocked by the brutality of the course, but returned in 08 and didn't find it to be quite as bad as I remembered. I've sort of been ramping up to the 09 edition ever since January - and now suddenly, here it was. I'm a couple of kilos lighter than last year, about 800 km ahead with regards accumulated kms for the calendar year, knew what to expect, and despite a slight cold was expecting to give 5hr 30min a nudge.

Lawrence and I rocked up at St Albans at about 3:30 pm on the Saturday afternoon, put the tents up in a nice spot, and fiddled with the bikes in the afternoon sun, as you do, whilst downing chips and beer. That evening a heavy bank of clouds to the east put on a bit of lightening display, which I think made everyone a little nervous. The course was going to be hard enough without the discomfort of being drenched for 6 hours. BBQ chicken sandwiches and fruit salad for din dins, another light beer chaser, then off to bed at 8 pm! Didn't get a great night sleep but awoke not feeling too congested and was ready to ride. Decided to use the creamed rice in a can breakfast, ala Jonesey, although I suspect he doesn't usually follow it with a big gob of vegemite - but I wanted to take some salt on board. The elite boys were off at 6:30 am sharp, with the sun barely up, the temp a balmy ~10 C, and a heavy fog in the air. Lawrence and I started in the last of the 3 general category groups, at 7 sharp. All in all, about 750 riders were away on the 100 km course.

Spent the first 10 km riding hard to try and get through the traffic inherent in a large mass start event (approx 250 riders per group) - which I managed to do, but found it again when I hit the first of 2 big climbs for the day, and I joined the conga-line of bike pushers up the steep incline. Fortunately managed to mount up again and ride the last 1/3 of the climb, which was less steep. Then it was on to the open trails. The good thing about this event is that if you have an engine, you get lots of opportunity to use it, with many sections making passing relatively trivial. There are still the technicalities of the rock gardens, and stepped descents to negotiate, but by and large the course is kind to an ex-roadie who doesn't corner or handle the technical stuff too well.

I was initially intending to make this a 2-stop race (50 km and 75 km), but my front rotor was frequently whistling Dixie, which I found annoying so stopped at the 25 km feed to take on some fluid and reposition the front wheel. Off again to the rock garden sector (km ~35-45) one of the cruxes of the event, where I had a bit of a frustrating time dealing with traffic (mental note - start in the first group next time). It was at about the 45 km point where I noticed my first twinges of cramp. Not a good sign, so I eased off the pace a little, coming into the 50 km feed at exactly the 2'30'' point - 13 min quicker than last year. About a 5 minute stop here - banana, multiple drinks, oiled the chain, then off again. No sign of cramp, so onwards up and into the next technical rock garden sector. However, at about the 65 km mark I was starting to feel fatigue again, so popped my first Gu (as opposed the sugar bars I had thus far consumed (6 to this point)). Hung on, as you do, down the big descent through the alley of babies heads to sea level. Managed not to go head over heels this time. Popped another Gu. No mucking around trying to ride the bridge this time - it was hard enough just trying to walk it! Next on the menu was approx 5 km of tarmac - lovely, except that a few kms in I started to cramp big time, with still ~30 km to go. Bugger! Somehow I hadn't consumed enough fluid, in spite of drinking at both stations, and starting with 2 liters on my back. Can't really argue with cramp - just have to go slower and ride it off. So, piano was the point of order till the next steep climb (and dirt) returned up to the 75 km feed. Drank as much as I could at this point, another banana, some watermelon slices (soooo nice!) then back on the pedals for the next 5 km of interminable grind - which I survived, only for the cramping to keep returning more frequently.

The last 30 km was really all about cramp management - going hard when I felt I could, and easing off the gas when my legs started to seize. When the cramping started I quickly accepted that there was basically no way I would be going under 5'30'' today, so didn't fret it. Yet all of a sudden I reached a corner I recognized - and had been waiting for, where the attendant marshal let me know "top of the course, 15 to go". On the downhill blasts that followed I managed to do a bit of stretching, pop another Gu (with caffeine this time) drain the last of the water on my back, and realized that going under 5:30 was still a very real possibility. Bombed the last big descent down to sea level without losing it, onto the gravel, across the river (only a foot deep this time), then cramped continuously through the last 2 km to the finish, but managed to sneak home in 5'20'' - approx 29 min faster than last year and 85th in a field of 750.

Lawrence wasn't too far behind me, turning in a fantastic time of 5:37 on a course previously unseen, which included more traffic than I had to deal with, and doing it all with just one stop - on a hardtail, which would explain the difficulty he had sitting down afterwards. By the way, the winner (Jason English, world 24 hr champ) broke the course record with a 3'58''. Incredible stuff! Lawrence and I picked up the winning machine on the previous evening - dual suspension BMC - seriously only about 9 kg. Sobering to hang around the finishing chute and see the stragglers come home - one with no crank arm on the LHS. One cramping so badly it took him a few minutes, to the cheering encouragement of the crowd, to traverse the last 50 meters - it was theatrical in a Hawaii Ironman sort of way, if you know what I mean - only substitute cramping agony for near-death crawl. Although he finished without fanfare, singlespeed Rob Parbs did the whole thing on a fixed gear with zero suspension - that's gotta hurt! Had a BBQ to attend (at my place, in fact), so didn't hang around for the more interesting part of the awards ceremony where some of the other tales of struggle and woe are typically revealed. Overall, very happy with my ride (no crashes, mechanicals), although if I can solve my cramping issues, and start in an earlier group, maybe something close to a 5 hr ride is possible for next year.

we like to play with bikes

evening lights show, which fortunately yielded a cloudless day for the race

what would be the winning machine (in red)

elite boys at the start

somehow i got through this one. Beer and pizza fixed the cramping, but it was still jolly hard to stand up or sit down.

At the finish with Lawrence and Bartman, who was basking in his decision to do the 50 km option this year.

Chaos back at the Langles outpost

Ollie and Zoe

The following day E and I did the Oaks (via the highway this time). I gave the Hampster's Garry Fisher a burl - quite a nice machine Ham, going up the highway was a breeze, although my backside certainly felt all of the singletrack at the bottom!

The elite field starts, and the first of 3 waves of weekend warriors moves to the start gate.

Oaks Reverse

Last weekend did the Oaks (again), but this time up the trail itself, as opposed to the usual jaunt up the highway, before the blast downhill. With the trail in good condition I actually managed the 27 km uphill without having to step off (approx 1hr:45 min up). Had tried this previously but turned back defeated at one of the steep crux sections about 2/3 through. Would have liked to have done more, but a persistant headache/hangover put paid to that. On the way up, counted no less than 94 cyclists barrelling the other way - and this doesn't include the 5 km of singletrack at the end of the Oaks which I bypassed - testament to the popularity of the trail, and the whole mtb scene in general.

In reasonable shape for the Dirtworks 100 km event next weekend, despite some pretty ordinary weeks weather-wise. My previous 2 attempts, on the same platform (rear suspension 13.5 kg Stumpjumper) have returned times of 5:59 and 5:48. Would love to go under 5:30, but i suspect i'm not being realistic here. Wir werden sehen!

Sydney as viewed from somewhere along the Oaks trail (click for large view). Chatswood is the metropolis to the left.

More rain on its way

The love bird and the love elephant

You never know who you'll bump into in the halmock

Bladderhosen

Thursday before the easter weekend was a busy one. After work I headed to Chatswood to pick up my newly serviced MTB. Dropped it home via the new rail-link (impressive), then headed to Rozelle to Ham's old local for a beer, burger and chat with BTi and Gerard. Although I didn't imbibe too much on Thursday eve Friday arrived way too soon. I rendezvoused with my climbing partner for the day, another Dave, at Concord, before driving up to the mighty Bluies. In recent weeks i'd started to feel like a had a little form on the rock, and tee'd up a climb with Dave (who is slightly stronger and bolder than I) hoping to do something a little more out there. But now that it came to the crunch, and having not climbed on rock or plastic for over week, I suddenly wasn't too sure. Perhaps the 24hr race last weekend had sapped thin what little muscles I had? On the drive Dave asked what I wanted to do. I replied that i WAS thinking of something like "Bladderhosen" in the Grose, but before I had time to list all the reasons this might not be a good idea, Dave responded "Great, let's do it!"

Bladderhosen is a 4-star Claw route at Pierces Pass, with pitches of 21, 21 and 23 (>100 m). I should be able to climb 21 comfortably, but 23 is right on my limit - even seconding, as demonstrated by my less-than-elegant cleaning of a 23 recently at Wave Wall. But I'd heard through the grape vine that the grades were a little soft (as with some of the other multi-pitch routes I've done at Pierces), and as Mikl generally equips his routes fairly well these days, I was reasonably confident that we'd get up and off it without killing ourselves. Mr Hemmings kindly offered to climb the first and 3rd pitches if I looked after the second. Deal! After an approx 45 min bash, we found ourselves at the base of the route - towering above us and looking like a big choss pile. Fortunately, the rock turned out to be pretty solid. The first pitch had sharp large-grain features, with a definite crux low on the arete. The second meandered across nice orange rock with the crux 3/4 up. With that dispensed with, the overhanging 3rd pitch (45 m at grade 23) loomed, including a conspicuous flake hanging about 20 meters directly above. According to the guide, one nervously examines this flake, before jumping onto it! Dave led through without too much fuss and in no time was yarding up the impressively dodgy-looking feature. Unfortunately, Dave bungled a clip due to rope drag, and decided to exercise caution in sorting it out, with a brief sit on the rope, but finished the route with no problems. I was next, and after sampling the delights of the wafer-thin flake was soon puffing my way to glory up the final headwall, which is pretty sustained all the way to the rings at the top. Fantastic moves, holds and position! Unfortunately, the best way off was to abseil back down the line - a somewhat terrifying option as the 3rd pitch is quite overhung. By the time I got level with the top of the second pitch I still had 55 m of space under me and I was about 5 m from the face and anchors - which I gained by pulling on the line we'd left tied off to the 2nd pitch belay. Another 55 m abseil and we were on the deck. Great experience! Will have to psyche myself up for "Smegadeath" now - a 5 star 23 not far away which is a more serious undertaking.

The follow day (Saturday), Gerard finally got to do the Andersons-Oaks double, in spite of clouds which looked continuously threatening. By the time we reached the Woodford turnoff (our bail-out option), there was even dry bitumen, so there was no question of not doing the whole shebang this time. My freshly serviced Stumpjumper was simply beautiful to ride (as claimed by Chookman at Northside). The creaks which have annoyed me for about a year now are a thing of the past. At the head of the Andersons trail we got passed by an Ambo and two police vehicles. 7 km later, the "locked gate" at the Andersons turnoff was unlocked, so we assumed that some poor sucker had lost it on the descent - kindly reminder for us to take it easy after Lawrence went head over heals there some weeks ago. By the time we got to the descent a helicopter was also in the mix, working out how to evacuate the victim, who had actually crashed before the main descent horrors begin. Anyway, with caution we made it to the traditional picnic spot at Bedford Creek, but GK was in no mood for stopping, citing that if he did he might not start again. So onward up the climb we went, finally lunching at the head of the Oaks trail. As always, the Oaks is a cruise after the long bash out of Bedford creek. 6 hours car to car! GK going great guns at the moment and should be ready for the extensive riding he will be doing in Europe during the northern summer.

The Sunday forecast was not a rosy one, so Anita and I met up with Neil for a spot of indoor climbing at St Peters followed by a lazy King St lunch. That evening I stayed up for Paris-Roubaix, which was an absolute cracker this year. Whilst Boonen was supreme methinks that young Haussler might be a strong contender in years to come, although it's hard to conceive him having a better season than present. Should have been more attentive and struck whilst the iron was hot! Monday was a day for 3 valleys and burnt coffee for Anita and I (3:15 from home to the Cafe), somehow avoiding the rain which came with gusto in the afternoon whilst I played in the garden......which brings me back to the reality and drudgery of another day at the office. Better get back to it!

Dave at the base of Bladderhosen

At the first pitch belay

High on the second pitch. Another party is behind us.

At the top before the big rappel

Justin from Wollongong cruising an overlap on the 3rd pitch and contemplating the final headwall.

The second pitch belay, as viewed from orbit

GK contemplating lunch....maybe next time

Langles with the new silent stumpy.