We were out of Melbourne by 7pm on Friday night. The gear was already packed from the previous night and the weather report was sounding promising. After several hours of tedious driving we arrived in the mist cloaked gorge carpark of Mt Buffalo. The original plan was to sleep until 6am then walk down and begin our weekend ascent of Lord Gumtree. Things changed however when we met two other guys whom were also planning on doing Lord Gumtree on the weekend. We quickly made up our mind to begin the climb that night. Marcel took the metal climbing gear and the portaledge, whilst I shouldered 'Beastor the Haul Bag'. The descent down the south side of the gorge went surprisingly well, and within an hour we arrived at the fog-shrouded creek.Although it wasn't raining, we were soaked and the crossing of the creek wet us further. The water bottles were filled and we started up the scree slope to try and locate the start of the climb. The mist was so heavy that visibility was only about ten metres in front of us. It also didn't help that when you breathed out a huge cloud of steam blocked any vision at all. I had been at the base of this wall numerous times before, but I was very lost this time. After stumbling up a rocky scree slope with a towering top heavy haul bag, I finally managed to fall over and smash my face against a wet, slimy rock. I lay there for a awhile, letting the blood trickle down my already wet face and pondered why I had decided it was a good idea to start climbing at 2am on Friday night. Marcel eventually got me out of my stupor and I continued hunting for the start of the route in the whiteout. After about an hour we found it and started racking up in a small flowing creek at the base of the wall.
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Lord Gumtree photo topo |
Marcel on the portaledge on friday night The first pitch went easily and soon both Marcel and I were preparing the portaledge for our nights sleep. It took Marcel a little while to get used to the logistics of standing on a 'ledge. On his first attempt it spat him off and he ended up wedged between the sideways ledge and the rock, hanging off a clipped etrier. I would have laughed if I wasn't so cold, wet and tired. It was 3am when we finally got tucked into our sleeping bags.
Marcel belaying pitch 3 After two hours sleep, the coldness and wetness of living inside a cloud finally woke me. Our sleeping bags were soaked and the mist surrounding us was heavier than ever. I sat in this wetness for another hour watching and waiting for the first sign of dawn. A red tinge signalled the start of a new day and our moment to re-pack and move upwards. As Marcel packed, I led off into the greenery of the next three pitches. The route runs parallel to Ozymandias for most of its length, and on the first couple of pitches is only about three metres from Ozy's corner system. The climbing, however was not as good as Ozy, and in some parts very dirty and vegetated. It didn't help that any dirt was now running mud. On several moments throughout the climb the grass ledge I was standing on would suddenly detach it self from the wall and I would be left hanging off my last piece of gear. By 11am I was at Big Grassy ledge and it was Marcel's turn to lead.The pitch was very thin and disappeared into the mist above. Marcel led off, testing some cam hook s and small cams. About twenty-five metres up the pitch Marcel began placing some cams in vertical pin scars. He aided up a few more moves and got in a good RP. High stepping this piece to get another in above, the RP ripped from its 'secure' placement and down Marcel tumbled. Upside down he fell, as some of the gear he fell on ripped out of the wall. An eight-metre fall was finally stopped by a good cam placement. Not hurt but quite scared Marcel lowered back down to my ledge. I tentivily agreed to finish the pitch and Marcel passed me the cam that had pulled, resulting in the big fall. We both looked agape at the broken piece of wire that had once been a cam. The flexible cam had snapped clean in two at the join between the wire and the cams themselves. When I regained Marcel's high point I found the four cams still in the rock. It was a good lesson in why falling onto a cam in a 90 degree placement is not ideal. I finished the pitch on small wires and cams hooks to arrive at the thin headwall seam pitch.
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Marcel cleans pitch 4
Marcel starts up pitch 5
What was left of the cam!
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Neil in freezing conditions |
Neil on pitch 6 |
The nights sleep was fairly broken, with the incredible constant noise of the waterfall, the squashed restricted position of a double portaledge and the lack of food in our stomachs. When dawn finally arrived we were greeted with about an hour of clear weather from which we could see the ground about 200m below. The clouds soon returned as Marcel started up the next pitch. The start was a hideous overhung v-chimney that had Marcel cursing and thrashing his way up. I stretched out on the portaledge and got s good quantity of reading done whilst Marcel battled on ahead. Marcel took a few more falls onto his daisy chains when gear popped out of the slippery upper crack. The view of the two other guys on Ozy was excellent and they made speedy progress up the pitches to the roof. After a brief conversation with them I packed up the ledge and jugged up the fixed line Marcel had laid. Time was getting on, Marcel had taken quite a few hours to lead his pitch so I immediately racked up and blasted up the next two pitches. By the time I got to the top of the worst pitch on the route, the second last chimney pitch, I was feeling positively ill. Within minutes I was curled up on the ledge, with nausea sweeping through my body. Perhaps it was bad water or maybe just a lack of food but it floored me for at least fifteen minutes. I eventually got some ropes fixed and started the horrible task of hauling the bag up a muddy ramp and chimney. I eventually rigged a fixed rope directly to the lower belay and got the bag up outside the chimney whilst Marcel got down and dirty inside the squeeze. Darkness began to creep into the picture so we kept on. Marcel aided up the final offwidth pitch, fixed the rope and I followed. By the time I emerged at the top Marcel was also curled up groaning and sick. Our friends helped us pack the gear, drag the haul bag up and stumble back to the car. The pizza in Mrtyleford never tasted so good!
The end of the route.
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Neil in red midway through pitch 6 The other guys on Ozy
Neil on portaledge.
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