Even with the knowledge that ropes are strong and that Shane our guide had a GCSE or Australian equivalent in rock climbing, there is still something more than mildly counter intuitive about standing at the top of a 30 metre rock face, shuffling back a bit,  shuffling back a bit more, then leaning backwards over that sheer rock edge. You check  the thickness of the rope in your hand. Look at the loop of metal holding it on to the rock and think to yourself, that could easy pop out. After receiving basic instruction in how to use the brakes (arm reaching forwards go down, arm backwards stop) I enquired as to what would happen if i let go of the rope… you’ll probably die was the simple but chilling answer. With that i let go of the brake and hopped backwards into the void and  down the rock face, rucksack gently swaying beneath my back.

It wasn’t supposed to start like this, though with hindsight it was probably no bad thing. Myself an Mr Jackson had ventured out of sydney to the incredible Blue Mountains. We watched on with mild anxiety as Shane our excellent guide from the Australian School of Mountaineering  in Katoomba set up top ropes for our first climb, his mate kylie (made that  name up) came and set up an abseil rope for another group. Shane suggested we make hay and use their ropes to abseil down to save us bush bashing… hmmm… Jacko went first, he wasn’t feeling to great at this point in his life about vertical rock edges. I was pretty chuffed not to hear any blood curdling screams and dull thuds as he disappeared over the edge. Jacko at the bottom alive i thought was a good test of equipment quality. Surely only human error on my part could kill me now. 

All three of us down alive it was time to go back up again, how futile you may think, but no. It was a beautiful, adrenalin fueled thrilling day of climbing up a rock, being lowered down a rock. Shane, with his perfect dry Australian manner regaled us with incidents of maiming or death he had witnessed in his short career . One woman dropped by her partner, not metaphorically, but literally. She was climbing he let go of the rope holding her on the rock, she died. Would not have surprised me if a march fly had just prior to the moment of him letting go chosen to take a bite out his elbow. Those beasts certainly pic their moments. The last thing you need when you are holding on to a bit of sandstone by your finger tips is a march fly chewing away on your neck i can tell you for nothing. 

So the idea that you are holding your climbing partners life in your hand helps to focus the mind. I sensed this fact was playing on Jacko’s mind somewhat as our final safety checks would uncover small yet crucial safety oversights on my part. Shane assured him that this was the point of the final safety check, Jacko would fix me with an incredulous glare, far it would seem from reassured. For me the worrying part was not climbing to the top of the rocks, it was at that moment when the ascent was over, and Jacko having  taken up the slack of the rope would inform me i was good to let go. The brain struggles with this illogical message. Many thoughts stop by the lively confused mind. Did i tie that knot correctly? Was it tight enough? Is Jacko being attacked by a march fly?

But we got through it with nothing more than a few scars and grazes….I’d head back there tomorrow were it not for the aches… of course the aches, aches of a kind that i haven’t experienced in some time, aches that make me wince everytime i move from the sofa, boy do i hurt, maybe i’ll leave it  a week or so before i return.

check out pics here

Tags:   blue mountains · rock climbingNo Comments