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General Climbing Discussion

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What got you started? 4-Jul-2003 At 4:21:52 PM Mike

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Many years ago I was deep into hiking, and climbing was a concept I was more or less unaware of, unless you counted trickier scrambles. I drove a little Datsun 180B, which, remarkably managed to get me and my mates to the base of most Victorian mountains, though I do recall some scary incidents, like the time a tree branch speared up through the car floor beside the gear shift and gouged a mark out of the ceiling. Anyway, disappointed with my comrades, who weren't quite as enthusiastic for continuous hiking trips, I picked up a copy of the Bendigo Outdoor Group newsletter (creatively entitled "The BOG paper") in the quest for upcoming treks I might sneak onto, though I wasn't a paid up member. In amongst the ski trips and back country hikes, there was one trip in the year set aside for climbing at Araps. "Beginners Welcome", it read. Fatefully, that weekend happened to be the following one. Wanting to meet the members of this group, and not inclined to wait for their next hike, I decided to invite myself along. So for me, my first encounter with climbing, was also my first trip. I'd not read any books, and had not idea what to expect.

I remember doing a grade 3, TR'ed, on Dec Crag, in sneakers, and feeling pretty darn proud of myself, before heading up a 7 or something, and thinking that was the bee's knees. I also recall an abseil (read lower) off the Plaque with two backup ropes and so much friction I barely moved at all. I rushed home to develop the bum shots. I was hooked and wanted more. Problem was the BOG people weren't scheduled to climb again for another year. Time went by. I'd almost forgotten about it, when in idle conversation a friend of friend mentioned climbing, and chaffing at the bit to have my say, I proudly declared I'd been there and done that. Well one thing led to another and I was invited on their next outing.

Peter, for that was his name, became my mentor and Arapiles our regular destination. In fact it would be several months before I was made aware that other areas existed, and years before anyone mentioned a gym. On our first trip together I recall the exhilaration of muscling my way D-Minor (with zero technique), on second, only to stand, freezing at the top while the sun set and darkness befell us, waiting for the other team members to be belayed up. My first rap (apart from that Plaque experience), was the longer, free hanging descent off D-Minor, in darkness so total we couldn't see if the ropes at hit the ground. I was freaked. But I couldn't stop talking about the whole trip for days later.

Needless to say, I pestered Peter relentlessly for more trips, worse still when I fell in love with all the metal shinny things. Gear addiction ensured, and I soon had a rack that weighed a tonne before I'd learned how to lead with it. It still weighs more (see Chockstones main page), than anyone would sanely carry on any route. Anyway, fast forward a decade, and the rest, as they say, is history. ... Yipes, sorry for the essay!