The epic of my first Mt Maroon experience

03/09/2005:0615

Blang blang bling dong dang.... I must have accidentally turned my alarm off in a hazy half awake state because that is my door bell and I was supposed to be up at 0530. A bell from hell with its ridiculously loud monochromatic melodies of songs from before my time. The other residence of my house should be awake after that screeching serenade coming from the kitchen. I quickly jump out of bed, rap a towel around me and race for the front door. It's Womby (not real name), my climbing partner for today. I unlock the fortress gate so he can rummage through my assortment of climbing gear which has been laid out on the lounge room floor since last night. I eagerly get changed and gather all my gear, ready for yet another weekend of climbing chaos. Once all the appropriate gear has been accounted for we jump in the car and head off on our long journey to the mighty Mt Maroon.

After two hours of driving we arrive at what looks to be the outskirts of a paddock. The next ten or so minutes are a big part of our excursion, as we are preparing for what will be a very long day. Womby opens the boot of his car and we take what gear we need. I have a quick smoke, put my harness on, clip all the gear I'll be needing to my gear loops and tie one of the ropes to my body like a backpack. We head off toward this grand behemoth knowing only to well that there is a long walk ahead. Approximately and hour or so of steep hiking we divert off the worn tourist track through moderately dense scrub and boulders. At present we are probably around six to seven hundred metres off the ground and we still have some way to go till we arrive at our destination. Womby guides us up through the bush to a cliff with no obvious way down to the base of our climb. We search the wall for a couple of anchors to rappel from. After half an hour of looking, calling friends for beta and snacking on fruit bars we decide to rappel from a large boulder just down from where we are standing.

The rappel from this boulder is surely one of the most interesting raps I have done. There are about 3 levels broken up by horizontal sections of ferns and other subtropical shrubbery. After reaching the first horizontal section I find myself plunging my boots through the wet greenery, trying to find footing on anything available. I reach the next ledge and carefully lower myself closer to the ground. Once at the bottom I call out to Womby "Off rope". "Okie dokie" he replies. Womby then starts his rappel following the my same line. He is overly cautious and doesn't look comfortable but after some struggle he makes it to the ground and we both coil up the ropes.

The climb we are about to attempt is called Jug City. It's a moderately easy grade at 16 but that is all I'm interested in climbing today as Mt Maroon has a long approach and the thought of getting trapped out here is definitely in the back of my mind. I lead the first pitch on what I would call less than bomber gear. None the less I complete my climb with some difficulty at the top due to a clump of irritating long grass filling my face as I try to top out onto a ledge. As I gain the top of the first pitch I search desperately for a tree worthy of belaying Womby up. There is nothing here, well nothing except for a couple of small cracks in the rock. So, as quickly as I can, I place four pieces of gear and equalise the anchor so Womby can second up the climb I just ascended, "On belay, climb when ready". "Okie dokie" replies Womby.

Once he reaches the ledge we realise that the day is getting the better of us. It is already around 1600 and we still have to get to the top of this epic 120m multi pitch climb - time sure does fly when you're having fun. Womby quickly grabs all the trad gear he can from me and heads off on the second pitch. We have to simply follow the line of least resistance but after about twenty minutes of climbing Womby realises that he may have headed to far left, and that we may very well be heading toward more difficult territory. He gains a tree belay about twenty or so metres from me and begins to rig up my anchor so I can second him up the climb. After a short while he hollers "On belay, climb when ready". So I quickly throw my shoes and helmet on and clean the rest of the gear from the rock. "Ok. Climbing".

I top out at Womby's anchor and realise that it is getting late - around 1700. We are faced with a predicament of being caught on the face with very little time before dark to get out off the rock and back to the safety of the car. Womby and I quickly rig up the lines for a rap and descend to the bottom of the climb. At present we are still at around six hundred metres of the ground with less than an hour of sun to light our path. We pack our gear and start to scramble down the scree slope until we reach a ledge with a forty metre drop ahead of us. This turns out to be one of my most rewarding abseils (never thought I would say that). There are two free hanging sections and lots of nice rock to admire.

The next hour is spent scrambling down loose bush to more ledges requiring more rappelling. The sun fades quickly and before soon we are finishing our last abseil with barely a glimmer of light to guide our way. Doh, I realise I left my head lamp at home so Womby switches on his head lamp and I have to resort to using my phones camera light which is surprisingly bright. We start to traverse along the edge of the mountain, searching for the tourist track we came in on. This is the first time I have had to bush bash in such a rugged environment and I must admit I am a little nervous. We stumble and struggle with urgent pace along the loose rock and plant life for an hour or so until finally we find the track. There were moments where I felt as though we were about to have a Blair witch moment but luckily we found the track. It's all smooth sailing from here.

We have a pleasant walk down the track in the dark and reach the car by 1930, relieved to be back in the relative safety of modern technology. I roll myself a well deserved cigarette and gobble down some lollies I had left in the car before our epic journey. Womby starts the car and we head off toward Brisbane. As we come into Boonah we feel its probably best if we stop at the local cafe for some serious black coffee and a muffin. Damn its hot but very good. We head off again and before I know it we have reached my house. Womby comes in with me so as we can sort through all of our gear and reappropriate each others respective equipment.

What a day. Fourteen hours from start to finish. I'm sure I'll feel it tomorrow but its all worth it.

One may ask why I subject myself to the rigors of this extreme sport. It is easy to answer. Climbing makes me feel alive.