West Cape Howe. Southern Ocean with nothing much between it and either Antarctica or South Africa. One of my favourite places – both to be and to climb. Just Rob and I made the 6 hour drive from home for a weekend with a less than wonderful weather forecast.
All the camping shelter to be had.
Rain was distinguished from the wave spray by taste. Brooding skies and atmosphere weren’t in short supply
How far down a climb to start is a judgement call. We didn’t get to the bottom of most of the routes we climbed this weekend
All that’s seen from the top – a tight rope held with finger tips to judge when it’s been vacated and time for the next person. Wind and waves make shouted signalling impossible.
Rob on the way back up the first route of the day, and yet to shed his down layer
The day brightens for periods only. Getting here is a sandy slog with a climbing rack-laden pack, or an adventurous 4WD.
The plants are hardy, but not without beauty in miniature
While it’s barely possible to stand on the cliff-top, the climbs are mostly calmer – and beautiful.
Evening gold, and retrieving the abseil rope.
We’ll be back