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Remembrance of climbs past – Wafer Thin Fin 22-Mar-2016 At 9:21:53 PM f_ladou

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I was preparing dinner before the climb while reminiscing about the visit Dominik and I paid to the Wafer Thin Fin four years ago: how we got lost on the way and couldn’t complete the climb. Classic untold tale.

Reminiscing of course brings nostalgia, a known fact. That’s perhaps why Jacques Brel was playing on my stereo (is stereo the right word these days for streaming music over bluetooth from a phone to a wireless speaker?). Massaging that organic grain-fed chicken with cold pressed olive oil, the sound of that harrowing accordion on Jaurès had never been so powerful.

So, yes, reminiscence. Four years ago after too many hours of bushbashing, Dominik and I – already exhausted – were standing at the top of Dalpura Wall looking down at the Fin. By the time we completed the two required abseils to get to the bottom, I was convinced we didn’t have enough time to complete the climb. So, we reverently touched theFin, bade it farewell (aufwiedersehen I heard Dominik mumbled), and climbed back out following Welsh Dragon. Naturally, we got lost on the way back to the car too and – while Brel was singing Les ramparts de Varsovie – I had to admit to myself that I had seldom been so tired in my life.

Next to the bowl of macerated strawberries I intended to serve with whipped cream to recreate my mother’s memorable strawberry shortcake recipe, was a printout of Dalpura Wall topo: plan you dive and dive your plan is as good an advice to rock climber as it is to ocean divers. Jos and Liam had guaranteed that they could take me and Dominik to Dalpura Wall in less than one hour from the car park. Now, if we could read that topo competently and start early enough on the next day, things should be hunky-dory (who says hunky-dory anymore? Gee, get with the program).

For those who have no idea about the Fin here’s a picture of it from the top of Dalpura Wall.

View of Wafer Thin Fin pinnacle from the top of Dalpura Wall.

On a geological timescale that thing is f---ed. It's a giant middle finger from mother nature to gravity. It’s an insult to geology and a big FU to the second law of thermodynamics. In fact, I strongly suspect that a strategically placed ants nest would collapse that incongruous pile of half-rotten, half-baked friable rock. How the various flakes tenuously hold together is beyond material science and if the multiverse theory is valid, then that construct exists in only one of the infinity of universes: ours. And surely only temporarily at that.

That being said, it is as majestic as it is improbable.

Abseiling between the Fin and the main wall is rediscovering the thrill of abseil. It’s filling up with childlike pleasure as you run your fingers against the Fin while descending into the narrow gap. On that early Sunday morning, the four of us experience the perfect conditions: a warm windless, sunny day in the shade. It was mid-morning and we were ready to climb.

Liam and Jos volunteered for the first pitch and Liam took the lead. A sandy traverse leads to the actual arête. Here’s Liam just starting to climb up the arête:

Liam just after traversing to the real beginning of pitch one. The pump starts here.

Overall this pitch is rather pumpy and by far the longest (35m, 21). Two sections are noteworthy. First, about half way up, a rather technical section where the climbing moves from the arête itself to the face: you’ll need some reach for that one. Then, five meters from the top, a scary assembly of flakes that flex as you pull on them. Go and do the Fin now 'cos those flakes won’t last long.

The second pitch was my favourite for many reasons but probably the fact that I on-sighted it has something to do with it. It’s short (16m, 22) and although graded a notch harder than the first pitch, it felt much easier. At that point, the Fin become really thin. How thin? well, this thin:

Yes, there’s a guy on the other side. That’d be Liam.

Jos was leading that second pitch and was able to take this picture of both myself on pitch one and of his belayer Liam.

Myself down below starting pitch one.

The third pitch starts with a suicidal first bolt. I’m not sure how Liam and Jos negotiated the start but Dominik and I used a sling as an étrier, stepped in it to reach a slopy sandy hold to clip the first bolt. Falling at this point is real bad news. Don’t do it. The next short section is great and gave that pitch its grade of 23. It eases as you reach the top. Jos and Liam were definitely enjoying their time at the top:

Liam waiting for Dominik and I to top out. Life has been harsher.

I love the Grose valley. I have so many good memories of that place but somehow this last visit made me pensive. Given all the loose rock around, not only on the Fin itself but on Dalpura Wall as well, something could easily go wrong. And what if something went wrong? A few meters before toping out of Welsh Dragon, I reached a salient hold with my right hand and remember thinking “I hope this one doesn’t break”. Sure enough it didn’t but then my left hand pulled out piece the size of a melon. “Rock, rock!” I shouted while looking at it passing by Dominik and exploding upon hitting the rock face 100 meters below. Liam told me afterwards, that he felt the impact while standing on top of the wall…

Later on that night, when everyone but Dominik had gone home, I fell asleep with Brel’s voice covering the delicate piano work of Voir un ami pleurer. Truly, Les marquises was and remains a stupendous album. And what a great day it was.

Ciao, François

The facts: Car to car 12 hours; 1 hour walk in; 170 meters; 7 pitches; max grade 23; a single team would comfortably shave off 2 hours; a strong team could probably do the whole thing in 6 hours.