Sore finger tips, scratched knuckles, bumps and bruises all over my legs and knees, rope burn on my ankle, hair matted with dirt and an inability to distinguish tan from the layer of dust coating my skin, can only mean one thing: eight days of climbing in Kawakawa Bay on the shores of Lake Taupo.
I left Auckland again on the 7th of January, hoping to head into K Bay on Monday the 9th, but unfortunately the weather gods had other ideas and I was stuck in Rotorua for a whole week! By the following Saturday though, we were finally ready to go and the weather was on our side at last. After completing my first puncture repair (yes, I have managed to get to my 30th year without ever having to fix a puncture; I then had to ride the bike and the repairs lasted the 30 mins I was on the bike, so I’ll call that a success!) and hitch-hiking* for the first time (don’t have a heart attack, I was with a friend and it was all good), we hiked in hoping that some friends who were already there would have the fire roaring and some spare dinner. Unfortunately that was not the case and we instead found them half way up a rock face, but I wasn’t complaining.
I’m finding it hard, sitting here, to think of the highlights of the week. I guess one achievement would have to be lighting my first fire (yes, I did have a sheltered life, as well as never having mended a puncture I had also never lit a fire) and successfully cooking dinner on it. I rule!
Another highlight, perhaps not in an entirely positive way though, was leading a grade 17 (F5c-ish) on trad. It was a day that I was feeling particularly lame, with energy levels dwindling, I’d managed to fail every challenge the boys had set for me. I had decided to retire from climbing for the day (when asked by Gerard what I would be willing to do, I think I said, “I’m willing to give up on life for the day.”), but Dan said, “Why don’t you lead Outboard Crack ,it’s a nice crack climb and only a 17.” I felt like it was super lame to say no, so I took up the challenge. I decided it had been a bad idea after all when I got to a hard section about 6m up, with only one piece of gear 3m below me and I had to down climb to try to place more gear and all of the effort and stress led to calf pump and panic, so I ended up sitting on two very badly placed pieces of gear and having a little cry. Yes. I actually cried. I desperately wanted to just give up and get lowered to the ground – I could live with the shame – but for some reason I stayed up there, calmed myself down…and then finished the route! I think my companions think I was being an idiot, making a fuss over nothing and letting my head get the better of me, but I was proud of myself for finishing it. The next day I led a lovely 14 with very obvious gear and felt much better about the whole idea.
A list of stand out events would also have to include a six hour ground up** epic which involved me being on belay for well over three hours and climbing for possibly 30 minutes.. The first 45 minutes were in vain as Gerard tried to climb a very skinny crack on a slab, with not enough protection 3m off the ground to be comfortable doing slightly harder moves. A change of tack and use of a tree meant that another hour and a half later we were both off the ground…about 8m. Bits of the route were nice, but it needs a good clean of both the lichen and the cracks, plus a bolt on the slab before I think it’ll be worth repeating.
Otherwise, I was treated to typical Kawakawa climbing: a variety of sport and trad routes, mostly around 25m or longer (although there is the odd short route), including delightful multi-pitch sport climbs. I really enjoyed the simplicity of life out there and being fully immersed in nature. I didn’t even mind not washing my hair for eight days too much! There’s something freeing about being away from shops and computers and cars and constant phone signal. “If you liked it so much, why did you leave then?” I hear you ask; but I’m afraid the answer to that contains a little too much information for such a public forum!
* Hitch-hiking can be pretty amazing as it turns out. Our first ride took us about 15 minutes to get and was with a middle-aged lady in a BMW. The lady (whose name, I am ashamed to say, I have forgotten) went around 40km out of her way to drive us all the way to the turn off to Kinloch, rather than leave us in a place more convenient to her. The second lift seemed to be less forthcoming, until a French couple stopped in their camper van saying they didn’t know where Kinloch was but they could take us some of the way. However, they weren’t really sure where they were headed and Dan managed to convince them that Kinloch was definitely a better place to be, so score, Rotorua to Kinloch in around two hours!
** The term“ground up” refers to doing a route for the first time quite literally, from the ground, up! i.e. without first abseiling down the route to look at holds and gear placements or to clean them.
