Mind Games on Flight of the Gull
Last Sunday morning a group of Adelaide Hills climbing regulars made the drive South down to the sea cliffs a Waitpinga. The main contingent headed straight for Cephalopod wall, however Greg and I decided to traverse over via a climb called "Flight of the Gull", on the adjacent Mollusc wall.
The traverse is about 110 metres long, on mostly natural gear, and goes at grade 17. Essentially, you climb West to East and stay an atmospheric 10 to 15 metres above the ocean below. The rock quality is pretty good for a sea cliff - smooth, slate like slabs with a few blobs and cracks for holds. Friction is good, however sandy sections, loose flakes and the odd crumbly hold keep things interesting.
We got slightly off route during the second pitch, and I ended up a little too high, at a rusty old bolt and home-made aluminium hanger. I backed it up with a sling around a broken flake - it wasn't what you would call a bombproof belay. When I pulled in the rope for Greg to come across, my last piece of gear, a large wire, popped out of the crack. So I was now hanging off a dodgy bolt and sling, with a 100kg bloke on the other end of the rope and no other protection for 20 metres. Not good.
When Greg got to the last decent runner on the pitch I shouted for him to stop. He ferried some more gear across to me, so that I could then climb on to a better belay. By this time, the waves crashing below me and the dodgy belay had really got my imagination and fear racing. I climbed on for another 5 meters or so to a decent crack system, plugged in a few wires and called out for Greg to come across. He continued past me to a shiny, new, hangerless bolt at another crack system.
At this point we had two options - another traverse appropriately called "Down to the Sea in Slips", or down-climb the crack, timing our exit between the waves crashing on the wet boulders below. It was more a choice of either risking a fall on a run-out slab or risking getting soaked down-climbing to the boulders.
We took the less potentially painful option, and managed to get off the climb with dry clothes, for a well earned lunch.
Greg at the first belay:
The traverse is about 110 metres long, on mostly natural gear, and goes at grade 17. Essentially, you climb West to East and stay an atmospheric 10 to 15 metres above the ocean below. The rock quality is pretty good for a sea cliff - smooth, slate like slabs with a few blobs and cracks for holds. Friction is good, however sandy sections, loose flakes and the odd crumbly hold keep things interesting.
We got slightly off route during the second pitch, and I ended up a little too high, at a rusty old bolt and home-made aluminium hanger. I backed it up with a sling around a broken flake - it wasn't what you would call a bombproof belay. When I pulled in the rope for Greg to come across, my last piece of gear, a large wire, popped out of the crack. So I was now hanging off a dodgy bolt and sling, with a 100kg bloke on the other end of the rope and no other protection for 20 metres. Not good.
When Greg got to the last decent runner on the pitch I shouted for him to stop. He ferried some more gear across to me, so that I could then climb on to a better belay. By this time, the waves crashing below me and the dodgy belay had really got my imagination and fear racing. I climbed on for another 5 meters or so to a decent crack system, plugged in a few wires and called out for Greg to come across. He continued past me to a shiny, new, hangerless bolt at another crack system.
At this point we had two options - another traverse appropriately called "Down to the Sea in Slips", or down-climb the crack, timing our exit between the waves crashing on the wet boulders below. It was more a choice of either risking a fall on a run-out slab or risking getting soaked down-climbing to the boulders.
We took the less potentially painful option, and managed to get off the climb with dry clothes, for a well earned lunch.
Greg at the first belay:

Labels: Climbing

