April 15, 2009

I spent the Easter long weekend rock climbing with friends at Mt Arapiles/Djurite in western Victoria. It is one my favourite places in the entire world.

When you drive to Arapiles it’s hard to believe that it can be there in such an unlikely spot. We drove from Canberra, through Gundagai with its dog on the tucker box and Holbrook with its submarine, past Violet Town and St Arnaud and on to the Wimmera Plains, which are yellow with wheat stubble, dusty and flecked with gum trees around the occasional dry river bed. During the last 30km from Horsham you can see the mount on the horizon, from this distance looking like a low lump surrounded by the wide flat Wimmera. The sky is massive. It’s only when you drive into the famous Pines campground that the scale of the place becomes evident – the orange rock of Bard Buttress towers over you; the cliffs of Central Gully cover 180 degrees of your view. And it’s all great rock.

Arapiles is Australia’s most famous trad climbing area. For easy but still exciting climbs it is unbeatable. It is known for solid rock, unbelievable gear placements, and great weather. It is, by far, my favourite place to go climbing. I’m certainly not alone in this view – hordes of climbers make the pilgrimage every year, and some dedicated climbing bums hang out in The Pines for six months or more. Although I’ve been down for shorter trips a bunch of times, my longest stint at Araps was one month in November/December 04; I look back on that experience now with fond nostalgia for not having a job, sitting in the dirt, and climbing every so often when it wasn’t too hot. When I go back now everything is so wonderfully familiar.

The exposure on many of the routes at Arapiles – even easy ones – is just wild. I love being up so high and moving over the void, feeling the moves, floating up the cliff, and the thrill of being terrified yet moving on anyway and making it safely to the belay point. Just as great is hanging your feet over the edge of a ledge 70m above the ground while sitting in the sun and watching the Peregrine Falcons play in the eddies.

The magic of Arapiles is not just about its incredible climbing. It’s a very special place, the most direct evidence I have for there being ‘good energy’. Whether it’s negative ions, magnetics or just the nice weather and surroundings I don’t know, but Arapiles always leaves me feeling great. The whole place has a sense of history and at night The Pines whispers with campfire stories of great climbing feats, tales from past trips, and beer-fueled plans for amazing ascents that may or may not be possible.

Climbers are a good bunch and look out for each other, and juiced up with the excitement of climbing such amazing rock and simultaneously blissed out by the feel of the place everyone at Arapiles is friendly and happy. From early morning until late at night the gentle jangling of climbing gear can be heard as climbers set off for the day, return triumphant or defeated, and sort the rack for the next day. As the sun fades, people head to the valley of Central Gully for some bouldering, or cook up, or crack open a drink. Inevitably some people will misjudge their climbing time and end up high on the rock as night falls, and their calls to each other and the flashes from their headtorches can be observed from the camp site.

On this last trip, three of us happened to end up in exactly this situation, and we topped out on our climb right as darkness fell. We were high on the ledge called Flinder’s Lane, just underneath the towering Bluffs that form the highest rock of Arapiles, and we chose to abseil to the ground instead of risking a solo downclimb – the usual route down – in the dark. I was last to rappel, and while waiting for my turn on the rope I turned off my headtorch and took in the scene. In the far distance the Easter moon was rising over the Grampians, and a farmer was burning off the last of their wheat stubble. The massive amphitheater of Central Gully seemed to lean in around the camp site. The Pines, far below, was full of headtorches moving slowly like fireflys, and the hubbub of dinner conversation floated up towards us. Overhead, the heavens turned slowly, and everything was great in the world.

[NB: There's another long exposure photo of Arapiles at night in my mountains collection].