And remember I said Col and I were the only occupants of the hut?  Well, I lied.

We meet our roommate today, and check him out!!  My hands aren't tiny.

Warrambungles - 2005
page 2
Well, now we know how to find Bastion Buttress (Oz 13; US 5.6-5.7), so the next morning we go get it.

Runoff from last night's rain is pouring down at various points on the approach in gorgeous curtains.
The weather is fine, fortunately, and only the first pitch is damp.

Big pile of rock, though, no doubt.
Col leads off.
And I get the super fun, airy traverse on pitch 2.

It's already a long way down to those trees....
All the way up, the kookaburras laugh at us from the bush below, and the view from the cliff does not suck.
Now here's why we hiked down and back last night.  The beers have been down in the stream all day - not icy, but no complaints.

Col's a Melbourne man, so VB it is.
And remember I said Col and I were the only occupants of the hut?  Well, I lied.

We meet our roommate today, and check him out!!  My hands aren't tiny.

Early to bed with ambitions for a big day tomorrow.  A bit of rain and thunder in the night.  We're getting used to that.
Up at 6:30, and we'e headed back to Crater Bluff, this time for Lieben (Oz 17; US 5.8-5.9).

Lieben runs to the right of the huge, shadowed twin gullies with the trees at the top in the center right of the formation in this picture.  (Cornerstone Rib is just left of the gullies.)  Big air and big fun the whole way.
View from the base. 

Gulp.
We're still in morning shadow on this face. 

Col leads off the first pitch in the weird light resulting from shade, trees and the black rock at the base of the wall.
I get pitch 2, and here Col follows through the run out start and somewhat tricky route finding.
Whoooeeee!  Looks like fun!
Here he is again, leading out on thin gear (note the screamer) on pitch 3.....
...and I follow.
Pitch 4.  We're starting to get the sun now.  I try straight up, which the guide says should be possible, but find the going difficult and not very protectable.  Downclimb a little (hard and scary), then traverse left, around the corner and into the "chimney".

I'm not sure where to stop and just keep going and going, fighting brutal rope drag, until I hit a good belay.  Looks like I've managed to run pitches 4 and 5 together and poached the alleged crux, which was supposed to be Col's.

Here's he is, however, digging the moves. 

(It'd be nuts to actually chimney the chimney pitch, by the way - stems all the way, as Col is demonstrating.)
Col leads the steep upper chimney section and takes us on up to the huge ledge at two-thirds height known as "the green haven".





And here we are.  The sun is full on us now, and suddenly it's blazing hot.  Off come the long sleeves.
Sadly, Col seems a bit bored with our steady diet of Clif Bars for lunch.  Well, I brought 5 different kinds, but after a while they all taste the same.

Hey - suck it up, dude...
After dining, we get back on it.  I poached the chimney, so Col gets the incredible crack pitch - best pitch on the route, in my opinion.  Gorgeous, gorgeous climbing, and Col floats it, as usual.
I get another nice one, and then Col takes us the rest of the way.

Here are two very happy campers, on top.
Back down through green glacier - the trail through the ferns wet and slippery this time from all the rain.
Later on, we are well fed and well beered.  The evening is cool and, the rain has started.

A sip of Hennesy XO, perhaps?

Cheers, mate.
We plan to sleep late and take an easy day of short routes near the hut, but this time the overnight rains don't stop.  The hut water supply is a huge plastic tank, fed by rain runoff from the hut's metal roof.  By now, the tank is overflowing.

We read and pig out at lunch  (one extra freeze dried dinner each, thanks to our walk into town three nights ago).

In the early afternoon, the sky lightens up, but by the time we saddle up and get up to the nearby Butterknife formation, thunder cells are rolling in again.

Tomorrow is our last full day. The plan is to climb Flight of the Phoenix on Crater Mountain, but it seems uncertain if we'll be able to.

Eat again, cross our fingers and sleep.
It's cloudy when we wake, but not raining.  We saddle up, and climb the Butterknife ridge for a better look at the sky.

Col says:  "Let's go for it."

(You can see Cornerstone Rib on Crater Bluff behind Col in this pick.  Crater Mountain is out of view, way off to the right.)
We walk out to Crater Mountain, and by the time we get there, the sky is blue and perfect.

Flight of the Phoenix (Oz 18; US 5.9) is big and serious right from the ground, at least for the likes of me.  I get the first pitch, and some nice jamming lifts me nicely.

Col takes pitch two and leads us up difficult ground.  From where I'm belaying, it looks like a five meter traverse right will yield a more moderate line, but Col goes straight up, then back left, through moves that feel like 5.10b-c to me (Oz 20).  Hardest lead of the trip, no doubt. 


Back at the hut, we hear weird grunting, groaning noises coming from the bush.  Colin immediately identifies them:  "Koala, looking for a girlfriend."

No way!  This I have to see.

We follow the sounds and within a 100 meters uphill of the hut, there he is!

Awwwww, cute!

(Low light and distance equals bad pics.  Sorry.)
Yeah, up there.
WAY the heck up there!
And I follow.  Airy, huh?
I get a rising traverse right around a rib that kills me with rope drag, and then Col is up; here leading the lovely pitch 5.  (Some guides call the rappel a pitch and call this 6. Don't be fooled - the rap isn't a pitch, it's an annoyance.)

Moments later, heavy cloud starts rolling in from the back side of the mountain, out of our view until it it surges right over us.

We climb faster. 

I take a rising traverse back left.  Col follows, grabs the gear and guns it as the sky darkens.

I follow and find him on third class ground at the top, with the wind roaring and lightening flashing all across the plain beyond.  For a moment, we watch a brownish hawk surf the standing wave that the mountain is throwing up from the wind of the oncoming front.

Then we coil ropes, change shoes and bolt,  jogging down the first kilometer of trail, until we feel a bit less like lightning rods.

Where we rejoin the main trail, we meet two treckers with their tent pitched.  The guy asks, "Is a storm coming?"

All I can say is, "Man, it's chasing us."

Back to the hut in record time, I drop the gear and run down to the stream for our last two beers.  The first drop of rain hits my nose just as I reach the front door.

Col is out of site for most of his lead, but I have my own fan club, so I'm not bored.

Neat little guys.
I take us down a short rappel to the start of the famous wing traverse pitch.  Flight of the Phoenix gets its name from the vaguely bird-shaped rock feature that it climbs; in particular, a huge "wing" of red rock, out which the route traverses along the lower, trailing edge.

At left, Col leads off on the traverse.
It rains through the night and is still sprinkling a bit in the morning.  We have a motel reservation in Dubbo for that night and have imagined hiking out, and then catching a final roadside route somewhere in the park before the drive.  No dice with this weather.

We pack it up and head down. 

The 'roos turn out to say goodbye.

Including this one fellow, below, who seems practically ready to shake hands before bounding off into the bush.
The mother ship awaits.
What can I say?

'Bungles 2005 = Fantastic
Can't ask for much better than that.