About The living rock
This is a blog on the origins of climbing in Australia. And being a blog, if you're interested in chronological order, the story actually starts at the bottom of this longish page. I've published it to share some of my own experiences, along with information I've gathered with the help of many people over the past 10 years or so. It tells a story of the emergence of the idea of climbing in Australia before World War II and continues the story of the development of what is now known as 'adventure' or 'traditional' climbing in postwar Queensland, through my own and other former and current climbers' voices. The time period covered by this contribution stretches from the very beginnings of human interaction with the Australian landscape, switching to mostly Queensland activity after the second world war. Primarily, these observations do not focus on the period beyond the late 1970s when climbing'began to fragment into several, distinctly different elements: sport climbing, in particular, gradually pushed what became known as 'trad' or 'adventure' climbing to the periphery. The detailed story of climbing in Australia from the 1980s onwards is for others to write.
Like all histories, this is
a version of events. It does not pretend to be
the definitive account (if there is such a thing) and comes from an obvious Queensland perspective. It offers an alternative to the predominant view of Australian climbing history that has tended to assume that climbing as a mass sport started in New South Wales and Victoria. The somewhat episodic examples here provide some insight into the extraordinary range of mostly young men and women who have felt compelled to move beyond the usual pathways to explore the more elusive aspects of the Australian landscape. Although 'modern' Australian climbing began less than 100 years ago, a small number of individuals has been exploring high places here since the European invasion. Indigenous people had already inscribed every aspect of the landscape into their cosmology for millennia. But this is a story about climbing as a European 'invention'. Each climbing community around Australia and beyond has its own stories, its own histories and I hope this encourages others to tell them. Please pass on this web address to anyone you think may be interested or who has information to add (or correct) what I've presented here.
Reproducing images or text
This blog represents a small fraction of the material that I and others have accumulated during this ongoing project. It has relied on the goodwill and trust of many climbers, current and past, who agreed to be interviewed and who have offered access to their private photograph collections. Please respect the copyright on the photographs published here, asking permission from the original owners (through me, if you like) before reproducing any of the material. But share this with friends, by all means.
Picture: On Mount Barney. Michael Meadows collection.
Me, at the Renaissance Fair outside Castle Rock.
Listening to tunes at the Pirates Pub. They sang and were comedians! Good Times.
A couple times a day there is a parade of the the king and all his court. I almost got stepped on by an elephant.
Catapult anyone?
Who is hungry, sausage and eggs mm mm : )
Jane at the top of the pass. She was really happy at this point because we were at the highest point of the trail and it was basically all down hill from here. Beautiful scenery, the headwaters of streams, soft high alpine grasses and shrubs. What a place to camp and watch the sunset!
On day two, the trail crossed the base of this rotten cliff band. We saw a ton of mountain goats traversing the top of the wall above us and as Jane was crossing a section of washed out trail. The goats sent down boulders and luckily Jane was able to scamper out of the way back to me. Otherwise she was going to be crippled or dead from all the rockfall and the gully that she was barely standing in.
At the bottom of the mountain, we came to the river and could see how high the water rose from the flash flood, just two weeks before.
Jane cruising through the hillside with flowers as tall as her! It drizzled on and off that day, but it was still awesome.
Sound of Music anyone. Ahhh yeah.
Jane at the top of the pass. After being beaten down for 4 miles and 4000ft of vertical gain we did it! There was a little rain and some breaks for food but we made it!!
Jane feeling the love of a heavy pack and a long and steep hill (or should I say mountain)!! You can do it love. : )
Ah just after a little rain shower. Something has to keep the grass green!!!
Jane getting the first nice views of the hike.
Bridge to Heaven trail was where we began this adventure!
Fighting Irish cloud...nah I don't think so.
One of the upper pitches of the final 1200ft. This route was already established and is a wonderful 6 pitch (each pitch being 200+ ft long) route that goes at about 5.11. The route has a first and last slab pitch with great vertical crack climbing in between! Here is a sporty endevour with very few bolts being placed on the slab.
Ari nearing the top of our route on the last techy 5.11 crux. Notice that he is always ready to party with that shirt on!!
Ari coming up the monster 4th pitch of 5.11 big hands. Straight up and straight down perfect splitter and not a loose part of the wall in sight. What was amazing about this wall is that we hardly had to do any cleaning. The wall had no flakey rock or crumbley stone. It is really a choice line on a choice piece of stone. Compared to El Cap it certainly is a rival in rock quality.
Triple roofs, pitch 4.