Ascents in Flake Crack Area

Pitches 1 and 2 linked. Easier than eternity, and fantastic climbing

Bring a 4 to bump

Committed, didn't think I had a chance but kept pulling and kept moving up

direct finish sure but not direct start! does everyone start in the corner? surely cuz those first few moves before the bolt are NOT 13

another piddo mega proj unlocked. this feels doable. well until that second carrot before the ledge. still don't have that sorted but maybe it will all come together next time? doubtful but here's to hoping. honestly minimal crack climbing on this which i guess checks out being the bluies and all. stoked to touch mr barber's finest (?) NSW offering. personal gear notes: save big dmm booty nut for base of pocket.

Bailed at the top crux.

Bit hard.

Bolts only of course. This should just be labelled a sport route, and a fine one at that!

As good as it gets

Shimmying down to help Sarah with first move off ledge.

Two stars for pitch one. Pitch two is peculiar and delicate and becomes choss. Start of pitch three after the cave is fun. There's a carrot after the move onto arete. The overgrown crack above looked gross, so I stepped right onto the face and was delighted to spot a few carrots. Single #.4 to #4 felt ample. Harder than Tom Thumb (13).

Following Haily's swift and effective lead.

One can see why the punters don't line up for this. Choose your own adventure, but mine was 4m of concerted tips laybacking before the obvious rest. No time to whip in a smalll cam sight unseen. Easy street after that to the ledge.

Always a pleasure, albeit brief.

Worked it all out, and i think it'll go just fine, then the sun hit. I'll be back.

Super fun sandbag!

Nice to lead it properly without cheating out to the side.

Yeah beaut warmup, good climbing. So good to be back yewwww

The morning crowds had left and we had the whole of Piddo to ourselves: golden afternoon sunshine bathed the cliff, and down in the valley someone was driving the ride-on around and around the house paddock.

I could see the mower's battered hat, craggy face, and sunnies beneath, and an honest dog, konked out on the verandah, wondering why anyone would make any effort at all, in the sun, all afternoon, when there were far more comfortable places to rest. As the rope slowly ran out I could to see more clearly. I knew exactly what the mower was thinking.

It was that moment when the work was done, the mower back in the shed, and in the old armchair on the verandah, to the smell of fresh grass and the sight of the neatly mowed lawn would come that crisp, percussive, irresistible, crack! as the first icy beer was opened.

5:30. The mower stopped, we packed up and walked out.

And as we did I recalled, looking down at my feet at the time, traversing out to that same arete 45 years ago.