A Month in Tassie
(Mira) The idea for a trip down to Tasmania came about when I realised all my friends would be in New Zealand and I also wanted to do some cool things. James was already in and Glenn was very quickly convinced, along with Abi and Vicky and Mac who already had plans to be down there. Our preparation mostly consisted of a group chat and some random spotted conversations here and there. We had the vague plan of driving down two cars and moving with the weather or what we felt like around the multitude of amazing crags. We had a few setbacks before even starting with Glenn’s massive accident, James with a finger injury and then the day after Hayden committed to coming with us he fractured his finger. The ominous Tassie curse is real. But all in all, on the 13th of December Abi, Glenn and I made our way across the sea to Tassie.
First crag we decided to visit was Whitewater Wall, at Freycinet. The long dirt road caused many anxious moments for Glenn but the small secluded campsite right near the climbing was worth it. With beautiful granite cliffs split with some pink quartzite lines, the climbing and the views were wonderful. On the other hand, while the rock is strong, the cracks can be flarye and as Abi and I both discovered, protection can be quite spaced at times (Abi - sometimes 8-10 metres above a micro cam spaced!). The rock can also get super spoogy when there is no wind and too much humidity. Some highlights from Freycinet were:
Apline (12) - a 70m mega pitch which, starting a trend for the trip, I pitched out
Slaughterhouse Five (16) - done later in the trip but a beautiful 16 hand crack with some funky moves
Light Fingered Maddison (21) - beautiful finger crack that Abi gracefully lead
Beowulf (17)- an awesome climb around the edge of a sea cave
Harlequin (18)- more technical crack with some run out slab at the top
After Freycinet, we had a much deserved swim and shower before picking Vicky and James up from Launceston and heading to Ben Lomond (as a local told us, it’s pronounced Ben Low-men in Taswegian). Accommodation at the Ben consists of camping or a small but cosy climber’s hut. Both were in the company of nonchalant wombats and plenty of mosquitoes. It is absolutely stunning. With a more alpine feel, the Ben consists of large dolerite columns that rise up with long pitches of splitter cracks. The access to most of the climbing includes boulder hopping for 45 minutes or so. An adventure in itself. The first thing we learnt is that the guide book is written by old school burly men, many years ago. There isn't much easy stuff. Abi and Vicky battled the classic 40m twin crack system Ramadan and left a top rope for James, Glenn and I. If Freycinet hadn't taught me how to jam then this pitch certainly did.
However, the following day, Glenn James and I set off on a quest to find a 16 which was supposedly a ́”classic”. After 2 hours of rock hopping, we came to the base of the “easy path” to the base of the route about 15 meters above us. Twas not an easy path but, as James put it, V6 bush bash. After literally hauling himself vertically through twisted branches, James reached the base of the route to declare it overgrown and not worth the access. It caused him the first of many physical and emotional scars of the trip and we retreated the 2 hours shamefully back to camp. Lesson: the Tassie guide book tells lies and listens to AAbi when he says trust thesarvo (a much more comprehensive online guide and the Tassie equivalent to the crag).
While James Glenn and I had our little adventure and left the rocks for a more civilised Christmas, Abi and Vicky spent more time at the Ben. Some of their highlights include:
Ramadan (19, on a weird planet) - an unrelenting, strenuous but classic battle up a dihedral with a sting in the tail up top
Rigaudon (20, probably fair minus the unprotected offwidth start) - an unrelenting, strenuous but classic grunt up the offwidth to a blissful 50m pitch where pulling the crux involves a hold or two that ove
Aquila (21, John Fantini’s grading) - the most unrelenting, strenuous but classic stem and jam direttissima with flared fingers and fiddly gear.
Die Nadal (22, but I’ve given up trying to understand the grading) - an unrelenting, strenuous but classic dicey approach to an awesome thin hand crack that felt like straight whiskey after out previous thrash fests
After Christmas, we all met in Hobart for some climbing at the Organ Pipes on Mt Wellington using the gracious accommodation provided by Glenn's family. The Pipes are similar to the Ben except much more varied. It has everything from easy, alpine style routes, easy trad, hard trad, cracks, face climbing, sport and lots of it, all within 30 minutes drive from Hobart. The views stretch out across Hobart and the harbor. You feel like a god looking down on the city people going about their city life. We even got to watch some of the Sydney to Hobart yachts come in. The Pipes were by far my favorite place we climbed. The cracks are uniform and sticky and there are small angled ledge to use for feet or crimps. Glenn, James and I learnt the art of tape, crack gloves and all agree that the best climb of the whole trip was Moonraker, a 17, 3 pitch trad climb. It had awesome belay ledges (made even better because I characteristically pitched it out), fantastic and varied climbing. Another favorite from the pipes was Battle Cruiser linked into Space Cowboy (20), which Abi and I had done when we passed through hobart on our way back from Freycinet. We also spent a rest day going to MONA.
Vicky and I (Abi) definitely enjoyed both the sport and trad at the Pipes. Our highlights include:
After Midnight (24), an awesome technical arete with a bit of goey bolting
Brown Madonna (19), so dark you wish you had your head torch
Sky Rocket (20), hyped as the best climb at the Pipes and is well deserving of it
Atlantis (21) and Savage Dream (22), the latter of which was a cocktail of pain and pump
After a few days in the city, we decided to head out to the Tasman Peninsula. We had also gained Mac for the rest of our trip. Camping at Fortescue Bay was fully booked as it was the new year, but we managed to squeeze our way in. James, Glenn and I did an afternoon run out to the Candlestick and Totem Pole. Both were very impressive but required more foresight and planning to climb. Next trip. The following day we drove around to Paradiso. The large, steep walls looked like a sport climbers mecca. That evening Mac, James, Abi and Vicky organised and packed up for an epic adventure - Pole Dancer at Cape Raoul. The following day, Glenn and I spent the day back at Paradiso including my favorite single pitch climb of the trip, Octopussy (which Glenn absolutely hated), Glenn's first lead after his accident and a memorable climb up to Mt Brown.
(James) Abi Prakash’s description of this climb on thecrag.com makes offhanded mention of some ‘moderate faff’. I would propose, however, that an accurate depiction of the events of the day might require the use of some more colourful adjectives.
While described on thesarvo as ‘an enjoyable day out’, our team of four soon discovered that the challenge before us would be more involved than this suggests. The ‘climb’ in question in fact consisted of a succession of questionably-protected trad lines and abseils, facilitating access through a field of sea stacks to the base of the objective for the day: an incongruously well-bolted grade 22 sport line up the exposed ‘Pole Dancer’ pillar.
Our objective established, the four of us hiked out the evening before we intended to attempt the climb, allowing us to set up camp nearby the first abseil and thereby saving us two hours of strenuous approach hiking in the morning.
After an efficient alpine start and a markedly less efficient series of excursions into the bush with ‘the shovel’, our team rigged and descended the first abseil, leaving our static rope in place there to allow for an easier exit at the end of the day. Having descended first, Abi and I ran ahead to locate the first climb of the day, and after 20-30 mins of scrambly hiking, we found ourselves at its base. Abi jumped on lead, and I belayed him up the first pitch of the two-pitch grade 18 trad line, Jihad, which he ascended with relative ease.
Having completed the pitch, we required the presence (and ropes) of Vicky and Mac to proceed with the climb, however they were nowhere to be seen. Some quick scrambling back up the path and a scattering of yelling revealed that they had taken a wrong turn immediately after the first abseil, and had spent the past hour attempting to rectify this. Nevertheless, we were soon reunited and preparing to second the pitch. It was at this moment that Mac uttered the fateful words: “Guys, I did a dumb thing… I forgot my climbing shoes”.
Fortunately, she and I shared the same shoe size, so she borrowed mine while I completed the pitch in approach shoes. The second pitch, Rain of Terror, was completed in the same fashion with little difficulty, save some moderately runout leading performed again by Abi. At the top of this pitch, he says “And that’s the last pitch I’m going to lead today. I love being on second”. He was fantastically wrong - and would go on to lead all but one of the remaining pitches..
At the top of this pitch, we faced some exposed scrambling to reach the abseil, which Mac was less than pleased by. She made the decision to leave us there, and await our return on the top of the large pillar we were on, ‘Wedding Cake rock’. She was there for nine hours.
Having completed the exposed scramble, abseil and some further exposed scrambling, Abi, Vicky and I found ourselves at the start of the ridge traverse pitch known only as “The Steg”. Preparing to lead, Vicky searched through her bag and states nervously: “Guys, has anyone seen my shoes?”.
Not to be defeated, Vicky leads this pitch (grade 8, but like, not grade 8) in her approach shoes with double ropes, then puts Abi and I on belay. Having gotten the ropes stuck, she advises us (via radio) that we are not in fact on belay, and that we would have to free the ropes for her to belay us. Abi and I ‘kiwi coil’ the slack, and I proceed to climb the first few meters and take out a couple pieces of pro, unsticking the ropes and allowing us to be belayed across. With the exception of the exposure, poor protection, and - at one point - a literal horizontal leap, the rest of the pitch was relatively calm.
At the end of the pitch, without her shoes, Vicky made the decision to leave Abi and I to climb as a pair, while she remained behind to take photos of the event. All that remained between us and the base of the Pole Dancer pillar was a final abseil and a short scramble, which proceeded without incident. Following this was an extremely runout chimney pitch, led again by Abi (thanks mate), to access the grade 22 sport pitch which led to the top of the pillar. This pitch absolutely delivered on its promises, providing wild and exciting climbing in a ridiculous position. Both Abi and I led the pitch, and in our exhausted state both Abi and I fell off of the pitch many times - but were ultimately successful.
Retreating from the top in a largely broken manner, I was finally able to say to my partner, “Abi, we’re going home!”. This journey home involved the reversal of everything which has been described above - abseiling down climbs and climbing up abseils. Suffice it to say that we made our exhausted way along this long return path, with only one (admittedly significant) incident. This took the form of getting our ropes stuck on Steg (again), which required me to effectively freesolo the pitch to the point at which they could be unstuck, close to the far end of the climb. This consisted of some moderately okay chimney-style climbing, followed by a couple hardish moves after which I was scared and tired of it all. I grabbed a piece of pro, safetied in to it, then rigged an abseil which would take through most of the remainder of the pitch (it was a ridge traverse, and the rest was more or less downhill). Following the abseil, I reached a point which allowed me to unstick the ropes, so I completed the pitch on belay and collapsed down gratefully next to Abi.
The remainder of the journey home saw us (in particular myself) descend a slow downward spiral through progressive stages of exhaustion and delirium. Nevertheless, we reunited with Mac, returned to the base of the first abseil, ascended the rope we had left there and collapsed back at the tent site, victorious.
All in all the adventure took us 16 hours (tent to tent), and cost only a small part of my sanity.
(Mira) After the Peninsula, we collected Mac and James in Glenn’s small two door Getz, leaving Abi and Vicky to their preferred steeper terrain and headed out to Frenchmans Cap. We camped the first night at the base of the hike before heading straight to the second hut in one day, learning the lesson that one always needs to take tampons in a first aid kit. The hike is absolutely stunning. Varying between mossy forests, grassy swamplands and stark rocky alpine environments. The hut at Lake Tahune has been recently revamped and now has lighting and heating and no bed bugs! We met some cool people including climbers, base jumpers, packrafters, highliners and many hikers, all drawn to the mountain. As it was still a holiday and the hike is becoming increasingly popular, it was very busy at both huts. We were lucky to have places to sleep. We timed summiting Frenchmans perfectly for a break in the clouds revealing breathtaking views. That afternoon we hiked back to Lake Vera hut, made a tent fort, drank whisky and played cards. We had a hot slog back to the car the following morning only made better by a cool swim in the river. For me Frenchmans was by far the most beautiful and scenic few days of the trip made even better by such a stellar company.
We made our way back to Hobart where we met up with Abi and Vicky and spent a couple more days at the Pipes. Another Pipes highlight was Fiddlesticks, with some beautiful twin cracks. And finally Glenn, James and I spent a day at Glenn's childhood runaround, Cataract Gorge. Where we climbed a couple of hot but stella cracks before diving into the water to cool off and become reasonable to the other people on the ferry the following day.
Overall Tasmania was a beautiful, adventurous place and it was so wonderful to share it with such enthusiastic people. It was a fantastic taster trip and I would like to go back when I can climb harder as it would open up so much more climbing and make the rugged rock seem less intimidating.