So I’m currently absorbed by the MUMS puzzle hunt. Came in a day and a half late, so we cannot get enough points to win. But there are puzzles to solve, so I am solving them. And maybe there will be treasure at the end.

A warm sunny weekend was spent at Arapiles, as we took out a heap of beginners to play on the rock, and come multi-pitching.

Nothing quite like sleeping outside in the Pines campground, watching satellites before you fall asleep, listening to the guys in the campsite next door talk about their epics on past climbs, and having possums run all over the campsite, and over you in your sleeping bag, as they hunt around for food. And then getting woken up by the rising moon, before falling asleep again, and getting woken by the sun the second time around.

Clear blue skies, and noone fell to their deaths while rapelling. Not a bad weekend.

No, I’m not actually going back to Tasmania. Well, not at the moment anyway. But here are a few more photos from the trip, just to prove there really was some climbing, and I wasn’t just touring around notable Tasmanian climbing locations. Most of the places we climbed at, we were the only people there.

Boer heading up Cordon Bleu (15) at Freycinet

 
I second up after Boer on Cordon Blue – damning the stuck nut.

 
Bouldering on the beach at Honeymoon Bay. This rock was actually thoroughly manky, and swathes of sand and debris would come off any time you tried to do anything.

 
All throughout Tasmania, we kept seeing hoards of surfers. So many cars had surfboards on their rooves – it was ridiculous, I’d never realised Tassie was a prime surfing destination. Anyway, apparently this is one of the places the crazy people surf. And Cape Raoul, off in the background – I’d really like to climb there.

Hippies playing with fire on the weekend, we camped at the Cathedral Ranges, and climbed, and kayaked, and hiked, and mountainbiked, and all of that sort of thing. And at night there was fire, and human pyramids.

Today we bring you Part One in a series of photos of things in buckets. This is the lesser known Cat in a Bucket. His name is Klaus, he is afraid of everything, and is always hungry. (Also, he didn’t particularly enjoy spending time in the bucket)

Aha, finally I get to see some action! I just spent the last week touring around Tasmania. Some lovely peaks out in the South West, but we just didn’t get the time to go and bag them. But I did get to go to the summit on Ben Lomond. Tasmania really is a very agreeable place. Anyway, here is a photo of me at the summit cairn of Ben Lomond, one cold and windy morning.

I’ve been in Tasmania, where everything is scenic, the rock is plentiful and the climbers scarce. I saw a haybale version of stonehenge, I got a flat tyre in a national park (while camping at the end of 3km of 4WD track, and broke my nut wrench trying to get the wheel off), was offered copious amounts of delicious wines by a biker couple from Canberra who were touring around Tasmania visiting wineries, watched the sunrise most mornings, visited a cheese factory, and a chocolate factory, and even climbed some rocks.

 

The light of the setting sun over Ben Lomond
 

Early morning light at Bluestone Bay, Freycinet National Park
 

The view of the rising sun from Whitewater Wall campground, Freycinet National Park
 

High seas at the Tasman Peninsula