Above: Pulling on Porcelain (23/5.11b)
|
When it comes to Australian rock climbing, we’ve all heard of Arapiles, you know of the Blue Mountains, and if you’re right into the scene, you’ve probably heard about the sea stacks in Tasmania. All of these places are incredible, though they aren’t the crags I’m proud to call home.
Growing up on the South Coast of New South Wales (NSW), I did what most kids my age were doing - breeding lizards and spending my weekends at the beach dreading the idea of girls seeing me wearing the rash vest my mum made me pack. Okay, not that many kids were into reptiles, but we all know what it's like to have your mum tell you she’s “not angry, just disappointed” your shoulders are so sunburnt. I also tried lots of sports, though after having the wind knocked out of me on the footy field (rugby for the Americans), being runner up for an entire season of BMX, and suffering from severe chaffing after my first day of rowing, I figured sports just aren’t for me. That is until I found climbing. My first climbing experience is like many, spending day after day at my local climbing gym. Instantly, I’m hooked! Since then, I’ve spent the last five years climbing outside including a trip to Thailand and many trips to both the North and South islands of New Zealand. Though I always have itchy feet for the next far away adventure, I’m never more excited than when I get to return to my favourite place on Earth - Nowra. |
Jesse on Bromance (20/5.10c). Photo Credit: Max Gordon
|
Mungo on Speed Boat (23/5.11b). Photo Credit: Max Gordon
Nestled in amongst these coastal suburbs of Sydney are a plethora of amazing bullet-hard sandstone crags that are sure to satisfy even the thirstiest of frothers. There’s thin technical face climbing at the Grotto, powerful steep overhangs at South Central, open-hand slopers at Hospital Rocks, and all of the above at Thompson's Point. Whether you like minging down hard on credit card holds or contortionist type gymnastics, Nowra has something to test you.
It’s been a long road of mishaps since I started my Nowra climbing apprenticeship. The first time I ever climbed there I brought a laundry basket with all my “necessary” things. A speaker, a change of clothes, and one of those huge bags of Metolius chalk. I guess I didn’t really know what to expect, I didn’t even bring my own rope or draws. I just felt lucky to be going at all. It took quite a lot of convincing to get my only experienced friend to take me out with a forecast for a full day of rain.
Kezza on Truck Stop Party Girl (22/5.11a) Photo Credit: Max Gordon
Standing at the base of the Pocketed Wall, I had no idea of the names or grades of the routes. By recommendation, the only route I tried that day was a 17 (5.9) called Je Baise Ma Fraigne.
After throwing myself at the climb for hours, only to fall off at the crux every time, I concluded that outdoor climbing is “waaaaaaay harder than indoor climbing.” I mean c’mon, I can’t even get to the top of this 17. Again and again I tried harder and harder but it just didn’t happen. Feeling pretty deflated my friend told me, “Don’t worry mate, it’s actually a 21 (5.10d). I just didn’t think you’d try as hard if I told you.”
My first day at Nowra left me totally obsessed and full of psyche. I wanted to climb every day, and I almost did, for the entire summer, with my best mate Pat. We did the only logical thing two new climbers could do. We bought six quick-draws and a rope and scoured the guide for routes with six or less bolts.
After throwing myself at the climb for hours, only to fall off at the crux every time, I concluded that outdoor climbing is “waaaaaaay harder than indoor climbing.” I mean c’mon, I can’t even get to the top of this 17. Again and again I tried harder and harder but it just didn’t happen. Feeling pretty deflated my friend told me, “Don’t worry mate, it’s actually a 21 (5.10d). I just didn’t think you’d try as hard if I told you.”
My first day at Nowra left me totally obsessed and full of psyche. I wanted to climb every day, and I almost did, for the entire summer, with my best mate Pat. We did the only logical thing two new climbers could do. We bought six quick-draws and a rope and scoured the guide for routes with six or less bolts.
Cosi on Cowby Junkies (25/5.12b) Photo Credit: Max Gordon
On one particularly memorable occasion, a local guide offered us some advice. He said, “No one’s ever died because of a figure 8.” Looking down at my single bowline with no stopper, I knew what he was trying to say. A quick lesson on how to tie in, plus a few extra draws, and we were more confident than ever.
A few months passed and we had endured the hottest summer I can remember. With palms dripping in sweat, it’s no wonder we also experienced our first lead falls.
One time I yelled down to Pat “victory whipper!” as I hung from the clipping jug with my hand reaching to clip the anchor on what would be my first ever 22 (5.11a) send. With an extra arms length of slack out at the ground, I slipped and fell to the second bolt with my life flashing before my eyes. Pat was hanging on the rope not far below me. We laughed hysterically at the stupidity of my cockiness and I learnt a very valuable lesson. Don’t celebrate too early.
Feeling like we’d gained some mileage, Pat and I set our eyes on a route called Mosquito Slap.
Dylan Tubaro on Beat Up and Thrown Out (25/5.12a). Photo Credit: Max Gordon
|
At grade 21 (5.10d), this climb is mostly known for its position and exposure. We soloed a small chossy wall to gain a ledge that lead us to the edge of a cave sitting about ten meters off the deck. From here, Pat took the lead and slowly lowered himself onto the overhanging arête that winds its way another 20-meters sky bound. Belaying from the cave is nerve racking - you can’t actually see your partner, you can just hear them panting with the occasional whimper of “clipping” whilst holding their breathe. Ten minutes had passed and Pat yells out “TAKE!” He’s made it, and to be quite honest, I was stoked because I was terrified at the idea of trying to catch a fall in this position. Although I was happy for Pat, I was also nervous for my turn. I double checked my knot, leaned out of the cave, and looked straight down at a tree that’s grafted onto the cliff below me. I start to breathe heavy. A few easy moves upward and now I’m completely committed. A fall from here would leave me hanging in space without the know how of getting back onto the wall. The climbing is mostly jugs on the arête but I could see chalk on a smaller, lonely face hold - though I wanted any other way than to hold it. There was no other option. I grabbed it with my right hand and instantly started to panic - at this angle, I didn’t know if I could hold it. I was shaking like a leaf. Pat yelled out from the cave when he heard my shallow breath, “C’mon man, you got this!” I threw for a good edge with my left hand and it stuck. An awkward wrestle to mantle onto the ledge and I was flooded with a huge wave of relief. I sat on the ledge and looked out over the trees at the river. I was ecstatic. Time slowed down again and I could hear the squawk of Cockatoos. After the scariest experience of my life, I was the happiest I’d ever been. |
Kezza on Mosquito Slap (21/5.11a). Photo Credit: Max Gordon
|
It’s been just shy of six years since then and I’m no less enthusiastic about climbing in Nowra every other day. I’ve met so many incredibly talented climbers and made more friends than I could have hoped for. I have learnt so much in this time. You’ve got to try your absolute hardest. The ones you work hard for feel the best. Don’t always expect a jug, sometimes you’re going to be let down. Not all the grades are accurate, so don’t worry about it too much. And, if you’re not having fun, you’re missing the point.
Steve on Worm on a Razor (19/5.10b) Photo Credit: Max Gordon
|
Tom on Very Nice Cake (25/5.12a) Photo Credit: Max Gordon
|
INSTAGRAM: @southcoastclimber
Some additional Common Climber information about Nowra