South Western Road Trip
DAY 3
BALLS. And big ones too. That's what you need if you want to do what we did that morning.
We'ed all seen pictures of the Bi-centennial tree and heard the stories of how only 1 in 4 people who go there, climb it. At 75 meters (246ft), its the highest fire look out in the world. (For a sense of scale, Mercury House (12 Floors) in Romford is only 57 meters (187ft) tall.)
As we pulled into the unmanned pay station to put our money in the box, I started to wonder if the person who worked there to supervise everyone's safety was just at the tree at that moment. At which point it started raining. Not hard, but just enough to make everything wet. We got to the tree and there was still no one around, only a warning sign telling any would be climbers, they do so at their own risk, 'This is an un-supervised activity.' Luckily the rain had stopped.
When I saw the wet metal poles hammered into the tree curling all the way up, I decided to be one of the 3 out of 4 people who bottle it.
I figured I wouldn't totally wuss out though and thought I'd try and climb to the first platform. Before I even reached the platform, as I climbed across the big wide gaps, I realised theres no way I wanted to be any higher than this. I got to the platform and there was a sign saying 'And that was the Easy bit'
Looking down from the first platform.
BALLS though. Didn't I used to have some? Surely i'd done scarier stuff than this?
Gareth, Joe and Tony had already started their ascent and I looked up and down the tree. I'm so stupid.
I went round the tree another 2 times before my bottle totally went. I could hear Joe above me, his voice cracking from the fear, saying how slippery it was further up. I shouted to everyone I was coming down and Jason (who still hadn't managed to get to the first platform) took great delight in getting a photo of me at the point I 'cracked'. I climbed down 4 rungs then bravado hit me and I climbed back up 1..2...3.....4.....5........ rungs. AARGGHH! Bottle gone again. Back down 4 rungs.
As I clung on in sheer terror to the wet poles something inside me said - 'If you don't do this now. You're never coming back here, You'll always regret it, It'll always be something that beat you...'
It must have been the trigger my brain needed. I suppose some people would call it Transcendental Meditation. Putting your brain in a different place. I haven't a clue what it was, but suddenly, I wasn't climbing a 75m tree from which a fall would mean a terrifying death. I was climbing 1 rung at a time, in a nice steady flowing rhythm. Calm. All the way until just before the top where Tony was scratching his initials into the tree... DOH! My flow interuppted, my brain came back and I realised how high I was. I don't remember exactly what I said to Tony but I remember him finishing them a lot quicker.
I look really happy here because we staged this on the way back down. First time I climbed onto the platform I was totally bricking it.
This was real joy though, it was taken just as I got to the top! (If you look closely, Im not quite sure whether to laugh or cry)
The Victorious 4. Me, Gareth, Tony and Joe.
Proving the adage you can take the boy out of Romford, but you can't take Romford out of the boy. I gobbed over the side to see how long it'd take to reach the floor. I shouted 'Incoming' then, 'still incoming' 'yep, still incoming' then 'hey I just hocked a lugie and its coming your way, you might wanna move!' 'Mark, that means you, I'd watch out...' Damn, I was high.
On the way down, my brain went back to that other place. I was looking down but had no concept of the ground. All I could see was the next rung below me. Then it was all just about finding a climbing rhythm.
By the time we got back down to the first platform, we found out everyone had at least managed to get to there which was good.
We had lunch by an old bridge that was falling apart. Afterwards, we had a 'bitch-throwing' competition. We picked up stones and tried to hit the bridge using our left arms. Throwing with your left arm makes you throw like a girl.
We saw few other things that day (an old bridge made from a huge tree, the '4 Aces' trees, a lighthouse) but it was all a bit of an anti-climax after the tree. About 3pm we stopped off for a snooze at a little beach off of an unsealed road called 'Conte Beach.'
The one down side to driving over here has been the music. Once you get outside the major towns, theres no radio for miles! We only have 1 tape from a truckstop and fine as Crowded House are on the first listen, after 3 days they're really beginning to grate. The other option of course is the yokal radio stations. 'All the best Country Music from the 70's, 80's, 90's and Today' Mixed in with talk of how Bruce from Murrayfield has revolutionised the options for cropspraying loans... Where's that Crowded House tape?
That evening, we got to Margaret River and had some dinner and a few drinks (except for anti-biotic me) in both the bars in town. Margaret River used to be just a little surf town, but as its only 3 hours from Perth, its now popular with city people who want to 'get away from it all'. It still feels a bit like a surf town, but below the surface its plainly just a money trap for rich city folk.
DAY 4
We had brekkie in town, then visited 'Canal Rocks,' two rows of rocks that channel and calm the sea. As we were climbing on the rocks we saw loads of purple tarantula-looking crabs. We used our Townie hunting skills to try and catch one using one of Tony's crutches and a flip-flop. Suprisingly, we failed. We also saw a HUGE manta-ray swim by us. No bull, It was easily 6ft across.
Apart from that and a stop in a service station, we drove back to Perth.
Back in Northbridge I was getting increasingly frustrated with everyone talking about going out. It was Saturday night and everyone was really up for it. I figured I'd go out and just have a couple because of the anti-biotics. I may have started off on the wrong foot by joining a 20 strong group of people playing 'Kings' (drinking game) by the pool.
A bottle of wine, a club, a bar, a strip club, a lapdance, another club and a game of paper-scissors-stone (Joe lost and had to get up to take the car back in the morning) later I told Tom that for the first time in a couple of weeks, I actually felt like 'me' again.