Climbing at Night
Just in time for next weekend’s Silverstone World SBK round, #155 checks in from the road with an Australian climbing adventure
By Ben Bostrom (www.benbostrom.com)

Tuesday after Phillip Island, Nikki and I decided to celebrate the team's first points of ‘05 with a big adventure in the Grampians Mountains, two hours outside of Melbourne, Australia. In typical Bostrom fashion, we got a late start and parked the car in the middle of nowhere. We were just getting started, and it was already starting to seem similar to the time when Fluffy (formerly known as MX-track-builder Marc Peters) and I spent the night on a cliff in 2001.

We put on our hiking shoes, threw the climbing gear in a rump-sack, and cruised the 45-minute hike to the base of the cliff. Up pitch one with (what seemed like) plenty of friends (gear), left on the rack and a long, 70-meter rope, I continued to link pitch two, only to run out of gear near the second belay. The last 30 feet were way too run out (equipment placed too far apart) for me, so I climbed slowly and precisely.

Realizing how long that had taken (nearly two hours), I gave a yell down to Nik to leave the pack, which meant no food, water, or hiking shoes, and to grab the headlamps; luckily, she was thinking ahead and had the lights ready to go. We were in for a mini epic. She was way ahead of me; the low sun and memories of our epic hike out of suicide rock last year must have tingled her senses. Also, the speed of her climbing had fear written all over it. Let’s just say I took a little flack for not leading in quick enough.

Since we had left everything behind for speed and efficiency, a quick assent and descent were a must, but in the meantime, I enjoyed a peaceful sunset, as I sat on the belay for Nik. The world really looks old in those mountains, and there was no sign of a concrete jungle except for the far lights of Hall Gap, which was where our car was parked and was therefore our homing beacon. The last two pitches were climbed in the dark, a first for both of us, but our fear seemed to disappear at night (no more depth beyond our hands, which were illuminated by the LED headlamps). At 8 p.m., we stood on top of the mountain, enjoying the stars and the Milky Way.

Two hours of bushwhacking and scrambling over nasty terrain in uncomfortable climbing shoes quickly turned the smiles to worried frowns. Somewhere in the next hour, we came across a hiking path with a sign reading, "6.5 km to car park"—a welcome sight, as our lights were now dimming. The rest was easy sailing, though the occasional sounds of huge kangaroos thumping near us had Nikki toting a large rock (which she later explained was to protect me with). Back at the car, just after 1 a.m., we headed to the hotel for a much-needed rest.

Muggs’ "bucks' night" (bachelor party) was the following evening. After pulling an all-nighter with the boys, Muggs, Richard and I sat on the steps in Surfers' Paradise like three philosophers talking about life ‘til 7:30 a.m. A lot of knowledge was thrown down (or so we thought in our drunken state), and a few issues that would normally blow right by actually hit home. I actually changed my way of thinking and my approach on life in a couple ways. Thanks, boys.