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Hotel Weaselburger 23-Dec-2012 At 11:20:19 AM f_ladou

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This is a sort of Christmas tale that started with an email from Alex

Evil Plan
28 November 2012 17:49

OK, to make it short, here's the evil plan:
Monday December 17th, The three amigos, Hotel California.
What you say? Can I book Mama Sue for babysitting?
Cheers, Alex

Followed by a slight amendment:

Fwd: Evil Plan
29 November 2012 10:25

Alright, in consultation with Dr Mersch, the plan has changed. The evil plan is now: drive up to the mountains Tuesday 18/12 in the evening. 19/12: The three amigos, Hotel California. So, mark your calendar as a “no” won't be accepted anyway.
Cheers, Alex

I say Christmas tale on 2 counts. First, on the count of intention: I want this trip report to be my Christmas gift to our Chockstone community.

Second, I consider this day out as a gift from Alex and Dominik. Indeed, I received these emails in Montreal where I spent 5 weeks nursing my sick old mother. Sadly, I think I didn't even replied to Alex emails: you see, serious illness put things in perspective: no, climbing is not that high on the bucket list but caring for your ailing parents is. I was really touched nevertheless that the boys were including me in their plans despite the circumstances, despite my being a half-world away…

As it turns out that we didn't do Hotel California on that Wednesday. We did something unexpected due to my own denseness. You see, amongst ourselves, the tradition is that Alex is the one usually referred to as “the moron”. Not that he is a moron for we must of course distinguish between what people are and what people do. No, he’s not a moron, he's the moron. At least that was until Wednesday, 19 December 2012 when I inherited the title. That being said, if I'm guilty of less than exemplary behaviour on that day, Alex on the other hand didn't do much better and probably deserves a new nickname. I'll let you decide.

So, we did meet on Wednesday morning at the upper car park at Pierce's Pass. We strategically distributed the cars: one at the exit from Hotel California, the other one at the lower car park. That way, we planned on saving a good 40 minutes of dull trudging at the end of the day. Alex came all the way from Sydney on his motor bike (show-off) and I remember thinking that this would be a very long ride back to Sydney after an intense day of climbing. I haven't heard from him as I type this sentence.

The weather forecast remained “Chance of a storm”: we knew that from the day before but both Alex and Dominik where super-keen. I on the other hand was a little more apprehensive: I hadn't climbed in 6 weeks apart from one appalling gym session and my skin was now baby-bottom smooth. Not to mention my non-existing stamina. At least, given the cloudy weather, we wouldn't be frying in the sun. Famous last words.

Anyway, off we went, along the by now well known track, down the gully, to the half-way ledge and down the new-ish abseil point:

As indicated, abseil down 45 meters, move to the left, tie in an don’t forget your backpack.

By the time Alex and Dominik hit the ground, I was still perched on the wall 45 meters below the half-way ledge when I realised that I left our backpack behind. Yes, with our water and food supply... After many apologies on my part and gentlemanly display of understanding on theirs, we decided 2 things: (i) I would henceforth be referred to as the moron and (ii) we were to do Weaselburger instead. Why Weaselburger, well, with no guidebook it was the only climb I could identified right away, helped by the following hint:

I sort of vaguely remember doing this route with Shaz a while back. Hard stuff. Or was it Burgermeister? Hmm… Anyway, in both cases, that meant 3 hard pitches to the halfway ledge, back to our precious water. My problem was that included more than 65 meters of grade 23, 35 of which tagged as "pumpy". I hadn’t signed up for that.

Alex roped up for the first pitch (21) and dispatched it quite easily. For those interested, the crux is right at the beginning and the rock quality is very good. My turn came to lead the second pitch (23). I was very apprehensive given my lack of training over the past 2 months and considering my only gym session was a desaster, I was extremely pleased to reach the second belay without much fuss. In fact, that pitch is really excellent with an overhanging section that will keep you guessing for a while. A semi-dynamic lolotte is the key. Fun move.

For some reasons, I have little recollection of the third pitch (23). Dominik lead it, I followed and took this cool picture of Alex on the easy finish:

Alex looking relax and enjoying the moment on the third pitch of Weaselburger.

I was feeling great after lunch and offered to lead pitch 5 – a long committing traverse fairly graded at 21 (for those wondering if I missed a pitch, the 4th one is in fact a 15 meter horizontal stroll on the half-way ledge). The sun was now out and it was getting hot. So much for the “Chance of a storm”.

Pitch 5 done, I hooked up the belay, a hanging one this time. Alex made is way casually followed by Dominik. By the time the guys were hanging next to me, I was getting fried. It was Alex's turn to take the lead: "Woo, this looks hard. I don't like the spacing between the bolts.". I looked up: what is he on about? this pitch looks great, orange vertical rock face, crimpy-looking, bolts about 3 meters apart, graded at 22. "Come Alex, it'll be fine, you climb like a champion these days".

So up he went, hesitated and decided to come down: "Not doing this." Aargg… Those who have been on a hanging belay as a threesome know how much pfaffing around it is to swap leaders.

My mood was deteriorating rapidly. There is no way I was going to lead this if only to increase Alex’s shame factor. I think Dominik read my mind and offered to lead, which he did brilliantly while punctuating his progress with “I love it!”. Again for those interested, this pitch is stellar. The beginning is a crimp-fest up to a rooflet that is negotiated using a matched-hands undercling up to an arête. You go do that move and I’ll buy you a beer; we’ll drink it nodding at each other, wordless, with a grin on our faces.

Now that being said, although graded at 22, this pitch makes the preceding 23s look like kindergarden stuff. Hence my heartfelt request to the authorities to upgrade the grade to 24. Or then again, maybe I should harden up… In passing, Alex pulled out a hold that will not make that pitch any easier:

A strategically placed hold that is no longer: the perfect Christmas gift.

By the end of pitch 6, I was totally parched and worn out. The last pitch (21) to freedom, which should have been great fun – a steep roof-like inverted staircase leading to a chimney (“the tube”) – felt more like torture than anything else as everything I touched was painful and I barely had the oomph to pull myself up from bolt to bolt.

But of course, you all know that once on top, when all is said and done, when the soothing breeze brings with it the aroma of a pale ale, all of this doesn’t matter. We filled up on memories, the sun was shining over the Grose Valley, Alex and Dominik were folding the ropes, Christmas was coming and my mum was cured.

Merry Christmas to all,

François

Weaselburger, 200m, 23, M. Law, S. Moon, 1996.