tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-124700992011-08-03T15:46:32.647+10:00The vertical lifeRod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comBlogger381100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-90896552981264831822011-06-08T11:30:00.002+10:002011-06-08T11:33:51.218+10:00

After a delightful BJ (Barrenjoey) session with JB (John Shaw) I wanted to warn you all about the potential death block on Super Exciting Xylophone (S.E.X.). A grade 21 wall that soon gives way to an absorbing grade 15 trad line up a pinnacle, the route is a little-climbed BJ gem. The transition between the 21 crimpy wall bit and the 15 trad bit is eased by a huge horn of rock on a jutting

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-48725693279475236982010-06-23T09:49:00.005+10:002010-06-23T11:49:28.420+10:00

By ROD SMITHThe last time that I stood at the base of Bluff Mountain in the Warrumbungles, my feet were frozen and wooden, the wind was howling and I was packing up after climbing just half of the first pitch of Flight of the Phoenix.It was a very different story last month as Dr Carl Schulze and I gazed up at the route, trying to pick out the belays amid the reptile skin-like texture of the

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-47867192598840954952010-05-19T14:48:00.002+10:002010-05-19T15:08:22.525+10:00

After years of falling up stuff it seems to me that 90 per cent of climbers that I run into are IT nerds, while most of the others are desk jockeys or some other species of white-collar criminal.Aside from the remaining handful of lifestyle climbers – those who choose penury and total climbing immersion over wage making and weekend rock warriordom – that means that the majority of all climbers

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-80409667578800090672010-03-26T11:46:00.003+11:002010-05-19T15:12:16.603+10:00

Some mornings you rise before the dawn and it feels as if your blood has solidified in its veins and arteries and you'll shatter if you bend.On these mornings the fluidity needed to climb seems more remote than the possibility that your blood has itself turned to stone.But you know in the monkey part of your brain that if you simply get ready by rote and get to the bottom of the crag, the

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-77335273334823761752009-11-30T12:32:00.007+11:002009-11-30T21:52:40.578+11:00

By ROD SMITHDr C and I had so much fun the first time that we climbed together in the Wolgan Valley – the highlight being the four-pitch jamfest of Cactus (18) – that we decided to do it again.So on Saturday morning I lobbed into the Capertee campsite at 7.30am after six hours’ sleep at the Shady Acres Norman Bates Memorial Hotel in Lithgow. Dr Carl was already there, finishing off his breakfast,

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-74737165761553458212009-11-30T12:31:00.002+11:002009-11-30T22:03:31.305+11:00

By ROD SMITHFollowing Claw’s decision to entirely re-bolt Bunny Bucket Buttress and replace all the carrots with U-bolts, Jimbo and I decided it was time to climb this consumer classic.Despite reports of horror runouts and recommendations that we carry a trad rack to supplement the bolts, we decided that we were too old and lazy to carry so much gear. Mike’s post re-bolting recommendation was 16

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-63918501451648329492009-04-13T13:19:00.003+10:002009-04-13T20:23:50.261+10:00

DVD REVIEWBy ROD SMITHThe British revel in eccentricity and nowhere has this been allowed full rein than in the sport that to outsiders appears completely dotty, namely climbing.For evidence of this think of everyone from George Mallory and Andrew Irvine plodding up Mount Everest in their tweeds, to Don Whillans smoking cigars at high altitude, to stubbornly refusing to allow gritstone and bolts

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-86606861551908786882009-04-13T12:13:00.000+10:002009-04-13T12:14:09.731+10:00

By Rod SmithThe scariest lead that I can remember was about five years ago and it was my first trad lead after eight years away from climbing.The pair of us rocked up to Secret Swinger (16) at the Wolgan and I was given the first pitch which, after an awkward start, is cruisy and well protected. I wobbled my way up and with great relief downed the rack in the sandy apocalyptic cave that is the

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-36496497564158539012009-03-06T11:13:00.007+11:002009-03-06T11:40:34.279+11:00

By Rod SmithIt seems a funny thing to go all the way to Tassie – home of the brutal crack and bastion of trad climbing – to clip bolts.Rick Fielding and I hadn’t intended it to be that way. But after a day at Ben Lomond, and on the way to more trad climbing at Freycinet, en route to the East Coast via the Lake Leake Highway the sign to Lost Falls beckoned us.After three summer trips to Tassie

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-58364806698630144502009-03-06T11:08:00.002+11:002009-03-06T11:13:23.439+11:00

Book Review By Rod SmithIn the 1970s and ‘80s Britain lost some of its best mountaineers at an alarming rate.This was no mass death caused by the sky collapsing, or too many people getting caught out in bad weather on overcrowded routes.To the contrary these men – and they were all men – were climbers who were pushing the boundaries of alpinism, using techniques developed in the European Alps to

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-69400009091789828412008-11-06T13:12:00.004+11:002008-11-19T12:49:50.753+11:00

As one of the true believers and a Tasmanian living in Sydney, I couldn’t part with my hard-earned cash fast enough when I heard that a definitive Ben Lomond guide was in the works.In December last year Gerry Narkowicz announced that he and Bob McMahon intended to produce the definitive guide to what is arguably Australia’s finest crack-climbing destination, the Ben Lomond plateau, near

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-24157158323550062772008-10-02T16:43:00.005+10:002008-10-02T17:01:45.703+10:00

IF you’re going to the Sydney Rockclimbing Club's Wolgan Valley Sheep Roast and Reunion on October 25 and 26 you’ll need something to climb. Here’s a Wolgan tick list for bumblies of modest abilities but with buckets of enthusiasm ... just like ROD SMITH .This tick list is based on numerous visits to the mighty Wolgan. All visits have started in a similar fashion – lofty plans to climb the

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-13134594898148636412008-05-13T17:36:00.001+10:002008-05-13T17:40:19.909+10:00

By Rod SmithIn 1973 Henry Barber amazed the climbing world when he free-soloed the 1000ft Steck-Salathe route on the towering granite of El Capitan. Late last year, 34 years later, Henry Barber placed three pieces of gear while leading the 15m-high sandstone route Crack of Dawn at Sydney’s modest suburban Barrenjoey crag.For a star-struck bumbly like myself, it was a jarring contrast between the

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-34916234319947310262008-04-04T16:56:00.017+11:002008-04-24T12:01:13.398+10:00

By Rod SmithIt was near midnight when we knocked on the door of Stephen Brown's house at the foot of Mt Roland, in North-West Tasmania.As buggered as we were from the long day, Rick Fielding and I were keen to share a celebratory drink with the bloke who'd put up the route we'd just been climbing for nine hours.Shaking off sleep as he answered the door, Stephen ushered us inside, proffering beer

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-17050466227822044162008-01-11T16:13:00.002+11:002008-04-24T12:16:45.856+10:00

In this first in an occasional series on suburban cragging around Sydney, ROD SMITH looks at a crag that is technically not even suburban…If you’re tired of dodging the Saturday morning sport-mums convoy of people-movers and Toorak tractors (flash 4WDs), on your stop-light-ridden way to Barrenjoey or Narrabeen Slabs, then the Southern Highlands crag of Mt Alexandra is for you.Instead of

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-13410895600126353652007-11-14T15:09:00.000+11:002007-11-14T15:21:46.699+11:00

"Hot" Henry Barber is visiting Australia at the moment, giving slide shows all over the country including Thursday, November 15, 2007, at the Bowler's Club in York St, Sydney. Tickets are $15. The show is presented by the Sydney Rockclimbing Club and Mountain Equipment. Tickets are available at the door on the night.Not sure who Henry is? Put it this way Rock and Ice magazine listed him among the

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-17092753090012027152007-10-30T16:44:00.000+11:002007-10-30T16:46:33.551+11:00

Hey, WAKE UP! Has everyone gone SOFT and taken up GOLF? What happened to the HEADY MIX of CLIMBING and GIBBERISH with which we used to block one another's emails.The STABBING fingers on MAPS and in GUIDEBOOKS in pubs on tables AWASH with BEER. Where are those PLANS for EPIC CLIMBS and days of BEER and BULLSHIT? All the BIG days that we PLANNED for, during those mean, little days of work and

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-7508011795494129542007-10-05T16:18:00.000+10:002007-10-05T16:23:51.282+10:00

DVD REVIEW: First Ascent (Sender Films)By ROD SMITHThe quality of US director Peter Mortimer’s last climbing film was such that it virtually was the travelling 2005 Banff Film Festival.Who could forget the beauty of Indian Creek as showcased in Parallelojams or the cuteness of the climbing Jack Russell dogs?As a result the expectations for Mortimer’s new film First Ascent (Sender Films) were high

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-80535188363728121372007-09-17T09:24:00.000+10:002007-09-17T09:26:19.698+10:00

By Rod SmithAS a new climber I want to know if I have to sell my car so that I can be like all the other climbers that I hang around with.None of them have transport which I put down to their heightened sense of environmental awareness, especially when we go to wilderness crags like Earlwood, Berowra and the Sydney Harbour Bridge pylons.Having six climbers hanging out of my Datsun 200B is not

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-61515978225579981342007-08-02T16:28:00.001+10:002007-08-09T16:46:40.019+10:00

Are you a god Christopher? I am. I feel it every hour that I’m out here. When we’re so far from the soup, doing this, caught up in it, I imagine it’s how God feels.It takes me two days to get over this. Every Monday I am in a black hole. I feel the ordinariness of it all. The quotidian shitfight that I’m supposed to live for the next 40 years.The tie and collar existence, the dinner on a lap, too

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-67103252530735841272007-05-04T13:04:00.003+10:002008-04-24T11:44:55.472+10:00

By Rod SmithIt was the most twisted of nightmares.It began with my shouted name. Ripped into wakefulness, I felt the tent floor moving, like some sort of beast, beneath my sleeping bag.I couldn’t focus my eyes and a rushing sound filled my ears. A light came on and a stern face appeared.I tried to put on my eyeglasses but they crumbled, broken in my hand. I found my contact lenses and they went

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-35863451530393231832007-02-15T08:56:00.000+11:002007-02-26T20:00:36.661+11:00

By Rod SmithFive metres above my last bolt, frying in the sun, working out how not to peel off what appears to be the crux moves and all the while feeling electrified rather than terrified by the situation: Welcome to Tarana.A small band of us decided to head to Tarana (aka Evan’s Crown Nature Reserve) to beat the expected National Parks and Wildlife Service ban on climbing that the Sydney

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1164002438013154022006-11-20T16:49:00.000+11:002006-11-20T17:00:38.030+11:00

By Rod SmithOur first attempt to climb The Emu ended at a red backpack at the top of the cliff.After frustrating hours spent getting lost and scrub-bashing along the indistinct trail to Kedumba Walls, the presence of another party on the 10-pitch adventure route spelled the end of our quest.Annoyed, scratched and sleep-deprived we bowed to good judgement and decided that the four of us would end

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1161240579125365332006-10-19T17:48:00.000+11:002006-10-19T17:49:39.140+11:00

By Rod SmithVoices in the dark: Many garbled voices from over the UHF radio, and a single one coming from somewhere up on Lower Baldy.The radio voices were the excited, massed gabblings of those back at the campsite where day two of the SRC Wolgan Valley sheep roast weekend was in full, boozy swing.The lone voice belonged to Mike Patterson who with his second had decided to spend the night on the

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1155880895720365892006-08-18T15:56:00.000+10:002006-08-31T14:16:18.083+10:00

By Rod SmithIt’s at Narrow Neck, it’s a three-star classic, old-school, must-do.It sounds like a sales pitch.In this case I was selling pitches, three of ’em, the ones that make up Fuddy Duddy. The buyer, as is usually the case, was Gus. And, as is usually the case, he said yes. Trad-training for our big end-of-year trip we decided that it would be a valuable way to spend a few hours on a

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1153373622632540282006-07-20T15:24:00.001+10:002008-12-17T14:27:05.447+11:00

Article from The Sun-Herald's Explore magazine.By Rod Smith LIKE a signpost, the sun-bleached King Billy pine stump marked the top of Barron Pass and the end of our struggle up the steep, rainforested slopes.For the past two hours life had been reduced to a slow trudge up to the mountain pass which marks the psychological, if not lineal, half-way point of the 50km return trip to Frenchmans Cap in

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1139981820273247352006-02-15T16:35:00.000+11:002006-05-29T16:26:37.363+10:00

By Rod Smith Beneath the massive half-dome of Frenchman’s Cap my courage shattered and fell like a shard of quartzite rock kicked from the summit. As the 7am summer sun warmed the white rock of the distinctive 1446m peak in South-West Tasmania, all that I could think of were reasons not to climb. “I’m not doing it, I’m coming down,’’ I announced to my climbing partner Gus Davidson and Simon

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1137561470291891402006-01-18T16:14:00.000+11:002006-02-15T16:39:15.123+11:00

By Rod SmithAfter months of traditional climbing training we are now on the cusp of the long-awaited trip to Frenchman’s Cap.(Picture, right: The South-East Face. The Sydney Route is the second route from the left). On Friday Gus, Nigel, Mike and I will fly to Tasmania to prepare for our Sunday walk into the Cap.Simon and his dad will complete our party, although they’ll be doing the walk

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1131331240105736912005-11-17T13:40:00.000+11:002006-03-14T11:03:27.033+11:00

By Rod SmithThis is about three blokes who climbed two classics in one day.There’s a little bit about the lure of coffee and the death of the day, but mostly it's about Sweet Dreams and Tom Thumb.One is an old-school classic, the other is a new classic. Both can be found in the Blue Mountains, near Leura.Sweet Dreams (14) is 40-plus years old, about 177m in length and was created by that

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1121927431052136252005-08-04T16:10:00.000+10:002005-08-05T13:04:02.400+10:00

By Rod SmithDeep within the sport-climbing cosmos, somewhere in the cool orbit of the Nowra galaxy, there exists a little-explored world.Sandwiched between the rings of Butt head (17) and the nubbins of Beavis (20), lies the richly contoured world of the Barbie Twins (16).It is to this lost trad world that men and women who delight in gear that clanks rather than ticks can take refuge when the

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1121658414140079882005-07-18T13:44:00.000+10:002005-07-18T15:50:03.916+10:00

When next you need to replace your walking boots/approach shoes don't worry about shelling out for Scarpas or Salomons.If you're heading to the mountains toss away your Koflachs and crampons.Instead, visit your local butcher or abattoir and grab some liver and pig brains and lash them to your feet.Read on ...From The Sydney Morning HeraldBy Allan HallJuly 18, 2005SHOES worn by a 5300-year-old

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1116917334532602202005-05-24T16:47:00.000+10:002005-08-05T12:37:56.000+10:00

By Rod SmithI can see the woman in red stretching for a crimp on the slabby surface of the speckled granite.She is metres above her last piece of protection and her belayer has that happy-and-clueless look that is typical of leaders and the led.There is no sound and no wind. Despite this silence, I can’t hear the woman breathing, as I know she must be on this steep and demanding line.Nor can I

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1115785899975191232005-05-11T14:24:00.000+10:002005-08-05T12:47:36.650+10:00

By Rod SmithIt’s an eons-old jagged scar in the Earth’s exposed bones.It’s a compact and beautiful, in a mathematical way. Its reptilian rock skin contrasts sharply with the postcard surrounds of the hammerhead peninsula on which it stands, just a few traffic-jam terse words north of Sydney city’s madness.Like many climbing routes it bears a name that is dripping with machismo, but like them its

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1115781450291711372005-05-11T13:15:00.000+10:002005-05-11T13:17:30.296+10:00

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The Winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves." John Muir."The Law Of Gravity Is Strictly Enforced." Mt Keira Guide Book introduction. (Mt Keira, Wollongong, Australia)

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1115014613701730642005-05-02T16:09:00.000+10:002005-05-03T16:38:15.170+10:00

Rockclimbing.comMy favourite climbing website. It features lots and lots of great images taken by climbers. US-based, it contains some hilarious misspellings and hubris in many of its online forums. http://www.rockclimbing.com/TheCrag.comThis is an Australian-based database of climbers and their achievements. You need to sign up for free to use it. For a small additional annual fee you can become

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1114728856282065742005-04-29T08:45:00.000+10:002005-08-05T12:48:31.940+10:00

HumourBy Rod SmithDear Bigness, Can I just say that your account of bad times on the slopes of South Africa’s Table Mountain sounds pretty much exactly what I experience every time that my merry band of 48 non-gear owning, non-leading friends accompany me simultaneously onto the soaring lines of the 10m-high, crenellated sandstone of Sydney’s Bangor West.I mean, it's uncanny that what you

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1114659717200399362005-04-28T13:41:00.000+10:002005-11-21T11:03:03.183+11:00

By Rod SmithCalmness should have come easily. The ingredients for it were all there: The pleasant alpine flowers, the drowsy afternoon sun and the sweeping views into the heat-shimmer of the Grose Valley.Instead, I felt edgy sitting atop the storey-high rock tower which marks the start of The Original Route up Mt Banks.Chilled by drying sweat and with my back to the view, I stared wide-eyed

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12470099.post-1114657858494596922005-04-27T13:08:00.000+10:002005-08-05T12:56:23.900+10:00

By Rod SmithFrom below the block looked loose, really loose. The type of loose where you’re convinced that your soft head and a hard chunk of Wolgan Valley cliff are about to collide.Now that I’m hugging it doesn’t mean that I’m convinced that this block is any more secure. It’s simply the fact that once above it I’ll be in the sheltered cave that marks the end of the first pitch of Secret

Rod Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690882684928447156noreply@blogger.com