UNSW
Bushwalking & Mountaineering ClubUNSW
Bushwalking & Mountaineering ClubGreetings all,
As we draw closer and closer to the end of yet another fun semester, keep in mind that the trip leader’s comp still has a few weeks to run. So far I have had one entry. Remember, if you want to enter, you have to send me the details of your trips, I will not be chasing you. For details of how this all works see the relevant bit of this site.
In other news, many people have expressed interest in doing first aid courses. We will be running at least one of these early in session two. Details will be forthcoming, so keep an eye on the site and your email, and for those few of you who need to be told, don’t flood my account with enquiries as I will not be organising any of it.
Other than that, a bit of a wrap up of what has been going on over recent and relatively recent weeks.
Firstly from Marc, and the goings-on Climbing wise.
And then from Jason and an intrepid posse and their meanderings through the wonders of Ettrima gorge.
Till next time,
Mark.
Arapiles, the Mecca of Australian Rock Climbing and one of the best crags
in the world. The exceptionally hard and sometimes glassy sandstone offers
some amazing formations and bomb proof protection.
The Pines (the Mt Arapiles Campground) is a thriving community of
climbers, residing within 30 seconds walking distance of some world class
lines. The climbing is big and often scary, the longer routes being over
150m and sometimes taking a whole day (depending on how lost you get).
The UNSW Outdoors Club has made the Arapiles trip an annual event for over
four years now and every year people come back with a glint in their eyes.
It's the sheer inspiration we get from climbing every day; climbing long,
climbing hard, but mostly because while you're at Arapiles, there's never
enough time to do everything you want.
Marc
After our first day of navigation mishaps, we were determined not to get lost on our second day. In hindsight, there was never any cause for concern, as it is pretty hard to get lost following a gorge. We figured we would be fine, and that our only concern would be making the next campsite before dark. With this weighing on our minds, we had a pretty lazy start to the day. Bushwalkers seem to be divided in two groups: those who get up at 6am in the morning, and those who do not. Most of us fell into the latter category.
First up was a side trip up Jones Creek. Rumor had it that somewhere up the creek there were some nice waterfalls and caves full of old mining gear. Predictably, we didn’t make it that far. As the day moved on, fear of pitching a tent in the dark grew, and so we decided to turn around at a beautiful, deep pool filled with crystal clear water. An overcast sky and intermittent light rain didn’t stop us going for a swim. And the best way to get into a pool of water is from a long way up. The pool was incredibly deep – none of us touched the bottom. Most of us scaled the loose rock to the side of the pool and did a jump of about 6 meters. Not content with this, Shane and Adrian kept climbing, and dove from about 10 meters. Still not content, they scrambled to their previous jumping point, and eyed off another, about 5 meters further up and a fair way back from the edge of the water far below. Jase, our fearless leader, had a moment of genuine fear. Helicopter rescues/body removals aren’t much fun. Jase managed to talk them out of it: true army reserve officer material. Perhaps Shane, an army reserve grunt, couldn’t shake off his instinct to follow orders.
After retracing our steps to camp, we waited as Jase did his business halfway up the side of the gorge. Apparently there was quite a view from way up there. At this point, we only had about 12km to walk along the gorge, but the many loose rocks made for slow progress, and we averaged less than 2km/hr. Andrew’s attempt to complete the day with dry feet ended after several kilometers in a fit of apathy. Shane and Adrian were keen to move fast, and over lunch, they decided to try and break out of the gorge halfway along, bush bash back to the road, and drive back to Sydney that night. They claimed they were training. We claimed they were mad. Apparently their exit route was a bit sketchy, but they made it out okay. The remaining 6 of us pressed on. Some of the rocks were incredibly slippery, and there were a number of spills, but fortunately no bad injuries. The value of a pair of Dunlop Volleys was very clear down in that gorge.
We did make it to camp before dark. The half an hour or so of spare time was
spent gathering firewood, which can be hard when a recent bushfire has done
its best to deprive you of wood. The campfire was very welcome, and Gemma’s
idea to bring a book of short stories by Roald Dahl was great. One of us stuttered
out the story, while the others lazed around and listened in.