Brooyar Easter Climbing and Camping Trip with Mum’s Gone Climbing

After a week of planning and preparation, I packed the daughter and what seemed like the whole house into the Mighty Golf and set off at 6.30am on Good Friday to beat the traffic up the coast. I’d been awake since 3.30am for no reason (but anxious excitement! would we make it?) so getting going on time was no problem.

The trip was pretty smooth, with one stop to pee and buy a newspaper. We made it to Gympie in time to have brunch at Tramcar Bakery, have a cruise around the very quiet town (everything was closed for the public holiday) and grab some firewood. 

We set off towards Glastonbury Creek camp ground, which I knew would pose challenges fo the Might Golf with its sporty low-profile tyres. I took a wrong turn and enjoyed sliding over a muddy and terrifying track with increasingly nasty threats of impending doom. “Are you stupid? Can’t you read…?” said one sign, as we reached a crest which led down to a causeway and the belly of hell itself, apparently. I reversed and chucked a tight 1000-point turn in deep grass. Made it to the camp ground with tyres and dignity intact. Winning. 

It was easy to find another Mums Gone Climbing family with a cute little baby who’d set up in a good spot. We put up our tent and, before I knew it, we were off to Black Stump Buttress in their car, a sedan a bit more sturdy than the Mighty Golf, but also not big enough to take on the biggest ruts in the dirt road. So we hiked some of the way, and down to the crag, where we climbed Sun Catcher (16) which was really nice!

When we arrived back at camp we found another family had arrived, and the kids were collaborating on getting a fire started. They launched straight into telling scary stories, taking turns to make up the next bit. That was fun. 

Daughter and I ate some ready-made Chicken Briyani for dinner, heated in the Jetboil. Went to bed pretty early and had a bit of rain and a rumbly storm in the night, but then the sky cleared and the bright moonlight shone on the part of our tent which wasn’t covered by our little gazebo.

Saturday

It was a cool morning. For brekky we had boiled eggs and muesli. 

We set out for Black Stump Buttress again, going the long way round so we could drive all the way to the crag. At times we had to get out to take the weight out of the car so the muffler didn’t bottom out. Mick, who was driving, said at one point a kangaroo nearly collided with us while we were walking and chatting. Didn’t even notice…

This time I put the draws on French Bandit (15) and also climbed My Brother’s Crack Whore Girlfriend (15) (very Southpark), the Enticer (17) – a nice sideways trending rock feature with a sparse finish – and  Via the Rainbow (16) – the top of which I did not like. Up until then all my climbs had been clean but I was shitting myself on the arrette with the quickdraw around the corner, so I downclimbed, dogged, and bailed left to finish using the Sun Catcher route which is much nicer (shared anchor). 

We went home and checked out the creek, which was beautiful. And cold. Some kids were playing in there so we swam around with them. It was lots of fun! I love a creek. 

That night we had a proper fire and Chef Daughter cooked a lovely camp oven meal with garlic, sweet potato, mushrooms, onion, carrots, canned tomatoes, celery, and stock. We ate it with a packet of instant rice. Delicious. Dessert was a can of peaches.

Saturday night was really chilly with the cloud cover gone, but we were cosy in jackets, blankets and sleeping bags.

Sunday

On Sunday I headed to Black Stump Buttress again with Bea and Mick, but I was tired and sore from the day before, so wanted to take it easy.

I liked the look of Dreamcatcher (20) and top roped it with much enjoyment, but said, “I would have been terrified on lead,” on the way back down. The top was sweet, with beautiful curved rails, delightful to climb.

Next we climbed Spike, which had a bouldery start. We thought it was an 18 but it turned out it was also a 20, which made better sense, as it seemed pretty hard. I top roped this too.

For dinner, Chef Daughter cooked garlic mushrooms in butter, and pasta Alfredo. It was very yummy! I was rather spoiled and very happy. 

We sat and chatted around the fire and it was great to get to know the other families better. 

I made a sort of damper in the camp oven, but also added eggs, sugar, butter. It came out a bit harder than ideal but was hot and delicious. We served it blueberry jam. 

Monday

Made it to Point Pure, and Daughter came to climb, too! Point Pure is so pretty, oh my golly gosh. What a view. Issy set up Mechanical Disadvantage (14) and I seconded up, and then a few of the kids had a go, including Daughter. She did great on it and got to the top. It was tricky in parts and, at 25 metres tall, it’s a long climb. 

The highlight of the trip was climbing Great Barrier Reef, though. This AMAZING 13 requires a rappel down to a hanging belay. Really hanging, no ledge to stand on. I always wondered how I’d feel hanging in the air to belay. The answer is, pretty good!

It’s an exhilarating descent down to a belay that you can’t yet see. When you arrive, you hook in your safety and hang about 12 metres off the ground, waiting for your buddy. Sam was very experienced and showed me how to manage the rope. I had a pretty good idea of how to do it, but needed a recap. Sam was great.

My feet went numb as I belayed, propped up but still hanging, but that was fine. It was windy and the rope spent some time caught in a tree, but all good. 

Sam fearlessly led the way back up to the top and set up a top belay. I followed her, climbing absolutely gorgeous rock which makes you feel like you’re climbing up bubbles and coral on the Great Barrier Reef, and through layers of time and history. I enjoyed the features and feel of the rock, and took the time to look back at the breathtaking view: rolling hills and trees as far as the eye can see. A superb experience of nature’s best. It was bliss. 

We climbed a bit later that day, and there wasn’t much sun when we went for a rather cold (quick) swim. The kids started a fire, did cartwheels and played.   

That night Chef Daughter performed camp oven magic again, with vegetables, dried wild mushrooms and a can of tomato soup.

A nearby group were playing guitar and didgeridoo, and that sounded amazing. 

As we tried to sleep that night, right next to our heads a noisy cricket trilled for all it was worth. As annoying as it was when we were trying to sleep, I was also a little bit proud of it. It was very determined to get its message out there.  

Tuesday

We were skipping breakfast to make an early exit and eat in town. We’d mostly packed when I decided to check that the car would start. 

It wouldn’t. 

The key was missing! Gah. My car helpfully tells me when it can’t detect the key. If only it could tell me where the key was. 

I’d consistently been careful to place it on the table or in a pocket. We were sure it had been on the table, and the table was now packed away, but the key was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t in the car, or the car would have started. We unpacked the car and looked through everything, and couldn’t find it anywhere. 

After borrowing a phone to call the RACQ, I looked inside the near-empty cardboard carton of water, and there it was! Yay. We repacked the car and got on the road at the exact time daughter had predicted: 10.30am.

We stopped by Tramcar Bakery for brunch again and then set out on a hunt for Gympie Goats Cheese. No luck! But we did buy some Kennilworth Cheese, some marzipan, and poked around in op shops. 

It was wonderful to share this time with Daughter. Her camping skills are rather impressive. Just the two of us and other wonderful families, the mamas being: Bea, Sam, Issy, Steph, Karlina and Cat. It was great getting to know them better.  

…

Home again. Much unpacking, airing and washing to do. 

It’s hard to settle back into reality. Being out in the wild was the best! Climbing, swimming, campfires, food and friends. Although it’s cold and a bit uncomfortable, and the toilet is way up a hill and stinky, and my hair had turned into an unruly dry steel wool, it was so much fun. 

Next weekend I’m heading to Gold Coast Supanova, for a different kind of fun, to talk about Killer Creatures Down Under, the new anthology that includes my story, Boyfriend Material. If you’re coming to Supanova come and say ‘Hi’ – I’ll be at the IFWG Publishing table. 

…

I want to also say something about recent negative representations of climbers in the media, which really trouble me. This is my personal opinion, not a view of MGC or ACAQ.

Climbers are not devils. We love and respect nature so much. Enough to carry 15kg packs up hills to experience it.

We learn to move carefully through nature, because if we don’t, it will kill us. Contrary to media representation, we certainly don’t bolt everything we see. There are both physical and cultural restrictions (within the climbing community) to what we would climb, and how. Most rock isn’t suitable for climbing, and the community restrictions about what should be bolted are complicated, strict, and brutally enforced. With bolt cutters.

The media mixes up climbers and hikers. Climbers are careful and committed, if we want to stay alive. We’re very careful of rock, because we know the risks of damaging it.

Climbers love and want to protect and preserve nature. We are a tiny portion of the population, less than one percent, and we are dedicated to enjoying nature, maintaining trails and cleaning up after others—I’m not demonising hikers, but I’ve cleaned up hundreds of pieces of their litter.

New people experiencing nature is great. It means they’ll value nature and support the environment, and petition governments to protect our planet. But they need to learn to experience nature with minimal impact. Taking rubbish with them, leaving their dogs at home when they go to national parks, walking carefully in a way which doesn’t damage trails. 

Recent articles in the Guardian and ABC are sensationalist and demonise climbers and hikers, as news is wont to be. The majority of climbers seek to respectfully collaborate with stakeholders to share our common love: mountains. Our core value is common—we love the mountains—but how we express that love is different. Climbers are hands on.

I respect Australia’s first people, and the commonality of our core values gives me hope. The act of climbing isn’t desecration. I don’t climb to conquer nature but to be close to it, to be on rock and up in fresh air. It connects me to a feeling that’s older than my ancestors’ learning to walk. We climbed before we could walk, and my body knows that.

It suits governments just fine to close mountains. Their risk and liability disappear. They no longer have to pay to maintain them. We can sit at home and plug in to their messaging, fear everything they tell us to, and do what we’re told.

But it’s a terrible loss to humanity to sever our connection to our natural world, and ourselves.

I’m not a spiritual person, but if there’s one thing that’s sacred to me, it is life and nature. Nature, Earth and life are miraculous. 

I’d like to work with others for mutually respectful, shared, sustainable enjoyment of natural places. 

Thanks for reading. Wishing you a happy day!