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Nowra/Perp/surf trip 5-Oct-2004 At 7:39:44 PM adamk

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Do Road trip kilometers create questions or answer them? Is a road trip a separate reality in which everything is a new beginning from the life that has been left behind? Or is it a dual existence to which we bring our current Narrative but have new experiences, create new metaphors that can become real symbols of hope and joy or even change when we return to our often mundane regular existence?
Certainly the screws of experience that bind relationships become tighter as laughter is shared, the cd player sings to our souls and we sing to ourselves and each other. Conversation dips it’s big toe into discussions of family and spirituality but decides more kilometer’s are needed before we can swim in those murky waters. As we progress eastwards an increasing lightness of the sky seems to correlate to our moods as we leave behind
- trying to install a CD player an hour before departure time, blowing it up, then getting someone who knows how, finding it’s not blown and finally we have music
- boyfriend meeting the family who he has meet before, but never as boyfirend. Dad and daughter/girlfriend smirk like cheeky mice as new boyfriend asks mother if she would like him to do the dishes. Then Daughter/girlfriend remarks ‘I’ve never seen you do a dish in your life!”
Australia is crisscrossed with roads in what seems to be a vain effort to try and create some sort of synergy between major city’s who’s cultural differences render this an exercise in futility. The joy of this mish mash is that directions and plans can be changed in a second. And so a night at Saltwater creek is abandoned as a random phone call to long uncontacted friends finds a morning sick wife who just want’s to go home. They have two nights left in their apartment overlooking mollymook beach and wonder if we would like to warm it for them…ah yes is our answer climbing will just have to wait.
Being from Jan Juc the water plays a big role in our lives. Even though weeks can go by without a surf it’s closeness seems to create patterns of comfort within the subconscious. Long discussions have been had about the dream location where u can surf and climb in one day. The melding of the randomness and spontaneity of waves with the unmoving timelessness of rock mixes a blend that demands us to drink it up. A morning surf at Bendalong amongst 1 foot peaks, frothing grommets and water clear enough to begin to count the grains of sand at the bottom sees us with head splitting smiles. An afternoon clipping bolts and pulling down at Thompsons point adds the ying to the surfings yang and it seems as though at this moment life is the sweetest box of chocolates. Oh yeah, and the stereo has broken!!!!!!! It sux! (Jano’s contribution)
Near Misses
Sometimes two seconds could make a large difference to the rest of the minutes and hours that occur in your life.
One second we were easily doing a hundred along the road to Bendalong, two cars, front one with a boat decides to pull to the left hand side of the road. Then Car with boat decides to u-turn right in front of us taking up three quarters of the road and leaving us nowhere to go but off…..the road. The sides of the road are lined with thick forest. Fortunately for us at this very point of the road has a fairly large gravel side and we are unharmed.
After doing a few warm up’s I decide to launch up Samurai pizza cats at Thompsons point. Having done mostly trad climbing I seem to find a sense of safety in the slowness and repetitive nature of racking up, placing gear, sussing the next moves placing more gear to protect those moves. Sport climbing feels a bit like wham bam thankyou maam, throw a few draws on move move clip, move move clip like some sort of train steaming up the crag (in my case quite a slow powerless train). After moving through the crux,
‘oh I’d love to have a set of longer arms!’ says Adam
‘I can put in an order for you if you would like’ replies Jano
I am moving through easier ground. I know it’s supposed to be easy ground because spacing between bolts has become much greater. Approaching the lower off’s I reach out for a hold that suddenly becomes part of my hand. No longer part of the cliff. In what seems considerably longer than reality I am plunging head first back down the climb. I am not overly fussed at being upside down however i am very pleased that my head maintains an equal distance form the hard potentially brain sucking rock. I come to a pleasantly smooth halt quite close to Jane who is above the ground at the first bolt and unfortunately her halt wasn’t so smooth with quite a nasty graze on her leg. She expresses later
‘I thought I was going to get sucked through that ring bolt’.
Other thoughts on what should have been horrific but was in reflection a nice experience
- the wind flowing through my hair was nice. Quite like going to a hairdresser and getting a head massage
- Whenever the Coyote used to fall to the ground in Roadrunner there was a whistling noise. Between my head and the cliff I could hear that noise.

Learnt stuff
While driving along a track at Point Perp the rear bumper fell off. We learnt it could very successfully be re-attached with four zip ties.
You cannot fix a car cd player with a bandaid, nor a piece of paper or even a massive bulldog clip.

Point perp
We were very blessed to meet some nice Sydney chaps who upon learning we were intending to climb at perp very generously leant us a guide book. Again the fusion of water and rocks appealed so we set out for a climbing area with a very large sea lagoon beside it. The intention being to climb and dip, climb and dip etc. Unfortunately our four wheel driving efforts proved fruitless and then we tried getting through the lighthouse way. After some pretty hefty interrogation (you cant handle the truth!) from the Navy guys at the gate we learnt that most of Perp is closed (they bomb the crap out of the joint) and so set out for bayside. By the time we walked the wrong way and warded off and evil demon possessed plover intent on feeding us to it’s hatchlings it was way to windy to climb but it looks so so good and a trip there is planned very shortly…

Records
In four days at Nowra we managed eight climbs…u would have to try very very hard to not climb that much in four days. The grade fourteen up the other end is crap, Sloth and everything but the wasp r bomb and ORCA though it felt quite soft (Samurai pizza cats and Orca are both the same grade but feel two grades? different) is worth everyone of it’s stars even in rain and a thunder storm. I love arete climbs my favs are ORCA, west face of mirror ball and some grade 19 at Gravel pitt Torr in the you yangs and of course the classic of classics Peroxide blond at the Buff. Please recommend others.
And so now I find myself stuck back in the grey unsweetened fudge of life. Re – living the adventures to all and sundry who mostly don’t care but at least pretend. Jokes and quotes are retold and near death experiences related with body language and actions that are ridiculous but feel somehow necessary. Cramming these stories in between normality somehow makes it easier to exist until the next trip away…