Club Med Lindeman Island, Blue Mts & Sydney (Part 4): Spiderman & Clumsy Gecko Rock Climbing

Flat ground never looked so good... D and I spent about 6 hours climbing today at some rock walls at the Blue Mountains. After all that upward motion, sore fingers and tired muscles, parched lips and shivers, we made it back to safety and in one piece. Both of us had kind of conquered our fear of heights, in a way at least, having climbed 50-metres sandstone walls and perched precariously on ledges and little caves some 30m above the ground. I tried to take in the sights of the Jamison Valley and the surrounding huge walls that make up the Blue Mountains metres above ground. It's a beautiful and majestic sight from where we were, with the temperate rainforest far below... I remembered thinking to myself that it's a long way to fall. Well, I suppose I did somewhat conquer my fear of heights (possibly same for D), but the fear of falling is ever present in our minds. I remember looking at D when we were both seated in this little cave, waiting for our guide, David (this cute and tall Aussie guy), to give us the go-ahead to climb, when the wind began to howl all around us. We were about 30 m above the ground, having done the first pitch and waiting to climb the next 20m. I was shivering in the wind chill and wondered if I could continue the climb, with my fingers numbed from holding onto the ledge just above me, afraid that I would be blown off by the wind. D couldn't say more than 10 words and I could see fear in his eyes as we just sat there. Yeah, on looking back, it's stuff that we are going to remember for a long time to come, but at that moment, it's just nerve-wrecking and frightening. Why, u may ask, do we put ourselves into this? I reckon it's just that I don't want to be so caught up with fear that I forget to live. It's a necessary evil. Some people do bungee, sky diving or are just contented to sit around and not leave their confort zone, but I can't. I must not forget to live. Life's too short and besides, I want to create these memories & stories that D and I can reminisce and tell our kids and grandchildren. We had originally planned to do a two-day climb, but decided to utilise our time in Blue Mountains by doing the touristy things for one day and climbing the next. We met our guide, David (sigh, the day started well, nice blue skies, warm sun in the middle of Aussie winter & cute guy to look at) who had climbed for about 13 years. After the initial introductions and getting our helmets and harness, we packed everything and left in a van. D & I gave David our climbing background: we only started climbing in Mar; mostly climbed indoors and the highest height I had climbed was 13m whilst D had climbed 18-metres wall. Upon hearing this, David gave us two choices: 1) Two 50-m climbs: Simple enough for us at Grades 10 (Sweet Irish) & 12 (Eyrie which has that small lil' cave I mentioned earlier) respectively 2) Adventure climbing on a 150m wall near the Three Sisters We took the first one, thinking that we will just take this slowly. We had to hike down a bushwalk track with lots of loose stones, where certain sections were quite steep. And being the most clumsy gecko on the planet now, I was basically using my bum to move down those steep slopes gingerly.

To get to those 50-metres walls, we had to abseil down a 7m wall and hike downhill. This was my first time abseiling, and frankly I was filled with dread. I don't know why, but i reckon this was something that needed to be done. So, Dave "volunteered" me to abseil first and went through all the safety aspects, reassuring me that I was also tied to a safety rope which would protect me should I let go of my abseiling rope.

The hardest and scariest part of abseiling is the first step over the edge of the cliff, and I remembered each step I took towards the edge to be excruciatingly slow and every part of me screamed "This is dangerous!" Dave reminded me to keep my legs apart and parallel, feet against the wall, lean backwards into my harness, and allow the abseil rope to slip through my left hand slowly while "walking" down the wall. I kept my eyes fixed on the wall in front of me, and took baby steps down the wall. I finally made it on the horizontal ground 7 metres below, on a small rocky platform that was to be the beginning of the next stage of the climb. We had to abseil down this wall a few times during the next few hours as we continue our little adventure.

Anyway, D & I stretched our climbing abilities a few notches up, climbing these huge rock walls and in the Blue Mountains no less. Also, I had a taste of "cleaning" the walls of David's natural wall gears like the cams and nuts. After those 2 50-metres climb, I decided I had enough climbing and scares; while Dave persuaded D to climb another 50-metre wall (Grade 15). I was hooked up to a safety line and stood as close to the edge of this wall, alternating between taking stills and video. D was lowered onto the foot of the wall and proceeded to climb it. For a long while, D looked miniscule and only his white helmet and orange tee could be seen. I was worried for him but trusted Dave's skills. The crux of this wall was the holds were small and far apart, and D nearly gave up. In the end, after lots of pushing and encouragement from Dave, D made it past the crux and finally threw his tired body over the top of the wall.

We were both proud of each other after this experience, and feel that we had done something that we never thought we could, albeit the fear and worries. We had crossed the threshold, moved out of our comfort zone into a larger world out there. The adrenaline of going over the edge; pushing myself mentally and not give up readily ... we made it and it's such a wonderful feeling.

To reach the top of the wall, on our own, even when we thought it to be impossible, is something that will be etched in our minds for a long time, and which we will use to remind ourselves when the going gets tough.