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Buffalo Aidfest November 2013 5-Mar-2014 At 11:35:48 PM phillipivan

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Sorry this has taken so long, I'm calling it done because I've had enough of writing.

This is not an epic

First of all, yes, we took 24 hours to complete Ozi Direct. 24 hours 23 minutes by the time Huw jugged to the anchor. Longer than expected, or it ought to have. Yes, we were physically wasted from dehydration and fatigue by the end of the route; in the first case much earlier than that. Mentally we both cracked at some point during the route; fortunately not at the same time. We did not epic though. We knew we would finish under our own steam, that things had not gotten beyond our control; when nine pm rolled around (our scheduled check in time) and we were behind schedule the decision to relay 'At Gledhill Bivy, All's Well' was unanimous. I don't believe that climbing slowly and dehydration constitute an epic.

An Unfamiliar Ceiling

I awoke in a strange room to unfamiliar voices circling the windows and entering via the back door. Dressed in a flash, despite the groggy haze, I am liaising with tradies about the work to be done on the bathroom. I've spent the night at the house I will be moving into next week, after Buffalo, because my climbing kit had already been moved, stashed with other valuables away from view in the ceiling.

Over the next few hours I split my time between packing Udo (a '96 Townace, worse the wear for my shitty driving and inability to clean it), and negotiating the details on the works on our house. f---ing everything up. The skylight ends up in the wrong place, I forget to pack sunglasses, a fork, a lighter, and probably some other shit I've already forgotten.

By 11 or 12, I'm leaving Woodend. Driving to ABC classic until they play jazz, then I put on something that doesn't sound like shit being sucked through a straw.

A brief stop in the afternoon at Myrtlefood, for lunch, groceries, and a fork, then I'm on my way up the mountain.

Booty Time

Encouraged by Huw and the good late afternoon light, I turned off to the gorge for a quick solo-tr ascent of The Cream Machine on cam hooks. A shiny DMM locker and dyneema sling are already there for an anchor. Climbing the line on cam hooks is exceptionally quick and easy, and offers absolutely no protection in case of a fall. With the security of a TR, it takes ten minutes, probably less. Then Im back in the car and on to Catani.

Later on, I found out the booty is probably Huw's from when he did the same thing a week or two earlier.

Huw is driving up after work, so after dinner and a dram at Catani with the early arrivals, I roll back to the Gorge carpark to meet up around 10pm. Sorting the rack, packing the bag, and generally discussing the route and tactics sees us bedding down around midnight for a four am rise.

The plan was this: climb Ozimandias Direct in a day. We would short fix with Huw's silent partner to keep the leader moving, and do away with a haul bag altogether. Instead a light day pack with food, water, and any excess rack, would be worn by the second who would jug with it. There were some unknowns. Huw has climbed the route before, but I have never aided anything longer than a single pitch, or short fixed. I don't think this is a big deal.

After hitting the snooze button once, we are up at four oh five, still dark. A quick brew up, a bit to each, sleeping bags in the car, dash to the toilet, and we are walking down by twenty to. Darkess and drowsiness confuse me at Mushroom rock, despite having done the walk several times, at least as far as Angels. We waste a few minutes before I recall that you trend right and drop down before swinging back left. The rest of the walk down is uneventful. The river is healthy and flowing well. At the second crossing, near the bivvy site, we fill up and have a drink.

Gearing up by the river

By six thirty I've tied in and am climbing up an aider on the first carrot. I will lead to big grassy then Huw will lead up to Gledhill bivvy. By six thirty two Im hanging from the rope, from the second bolt, my first, and our only fall on the climb. Pulling back on and over the slabby bit is no big deal.

I've never rope soloed before with a silent partner, or anything else, so once Im at the first anchor, it takes a little while to get sorted before starting up the next pitch. I'm probably only four metres up when Huw gets to the anchor. This wasn't much, but in retrospect was still a very good thing. It kept the belay changeovers very prompt, and the anchors were never crowded. At the start of the third pitch I was only two placements off the anchor when Huw arrived.

Leading P2

Mostly the climbing went fairly smoothly and efficiently; though in a long sleeve ice breaker shirt I was over dressed for the full sun I was climbing in. Even on the first pitch. There are a couple of rusty pins that flex ominously, but the rest of the gear was fine, lots of cam hooks and small cam placements. Still the work and sweating was getting to me; at eleven thirty when I fixed the rope to the big grassy anchors I had to use my right hand to extend my left thumb. Fortunately, that was the only cramp I had then, and I had a good long rest ahead of me. Plenty of time to eat, drink, and recover.

As Huw approached the ledge, I could hear a stream of muttered expletives wafting up. Was my gear that hard to remove? I became a little self conscious. No, Huw was struggling to jug the route with our pack. In retrospect Huw found his jugging setup was all wrong and wasting a lot of energy. But thats in retrospect, now, and for the rest of the route that he followed, he paid for it in miserable, exhausting work.

We slowed down after big grassy, incrementally first, exponentially later. It was around six when I arrived at the anchor below the impressive roof. Huw had not begun to short fix at all. The silent partner was not used again. Due to fatigue and lack of experience I elected to cease short fixing for my next leading block.
Do you want the next lead? I'm cramping pretty bad.
Nah man, this was the one pitch you really wanted; have a drink, have a gu and get on it.
Well, there is a bit of a technique to leading roofs. Huw didn't have it, and later on, it turned out neither did I. I watch him flail for forty minutes or so on a green totem cam plugged in the middle of the roof. Stay low, fifi from a chest harness Rod later tells us; for now I unhelpfully sandbag him with encouragement to fifi in as high as possible and stretch out horizontally. Oh yes, it can be done, but it's hardly a good way to conserve energy.

Belaying brought new challenges. Extended periods of inactivity made me increasingly aware of time - of our slowing pace - fostering a rising anxiety as nightfall approached. I tried a variety of mental games to suppress and control this, hoping Huw wouldn't notice, or feel responsible. There is nothing to be gained by spreading anxieties to the other end of the rope. Ultimately once it got dark there was nothing left to worry about. Turn on the headlamp and keep going.

Its around nine when Huw calls fixed, and I turn my head lamp on for the first time since the walk in. This is the only part of the route we had planned to haul the pack, just through the roof, so I put in on our tag line and lower it out. Hanging in space with just a small circle of rock lit up by the lamp is some wicked exposure.

At the lip of the roof a number eight Wild Country nut is set very solidly, after a few minutes effort I take the draw and leave it behind.

By the time I reach the Gledhill Bivvy its after 9pm. Our check in time with Rod. Huw sends an All's well message, and I take the lead again.

Handing over the rack at the Gledhill Bivvy