New Religion

NEW RELIGION MAN SEARCHES FOR

ANSWERS, FINDS

BABYLON A RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE ONLY A STONE’S THROW FROM THE MILFORD ROAD.

BY JOHN PALMER

BRUCE DOWRICK ON JESUS BUILT MY HOT ROD (28), LITTLE BABYLON, CLEDDAU VALLEY. SIMON CARTER WWW.ONSIGHT-PHOTOGRAPHY.COM

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narrative was a brief but compelling characterisation of self.

In this respect, it reminded me of Mark Pickering’s wonderful book about tramping in New Zealand. I know what you’re thinking: isn’t that an oxymoron? Or maybe just moron? What could be less absorbing than a book about walking around with a pack on? Well, prepare to be pleasantly surprised, because Mark’s book is an absolute delight.

From his opening stanza (in which he recounts his first awkward bus trip with the infamous Wellington Tramping, Mountaineering & Prepubescent Antics Society), Mark bares his soul to the reader. He MY FIRST thought was to consider: just what makes a good takes you on a journey through his climbing story? thoughts, feelings and relationships; I had time to ponder this question while browsing through and tramping is but the catalyst for some well-thumbed back issues of this venerable publication his thought-provoking prose. at Homer Hut last summer. It was raining (news flash!) and You don’t need to be an actuthe conversation was lean. I started reading a mountaineerSEBASTIAN LOEWENSTEIJN ary to predict where this literature ing article by Paul Hersey entitled ‘The Darkness’. The title review is heading. Plainly, the censeemed apt. tral component in all good climbing stories is good characters. This To be fair, mountaineering is what separates the wheat from the chaff, the curd from the articles are not usually my cup whey and the sweetbreads from the tripe. of tea. I gave up mountaineerIf further proof of this statement is required, look no further than ing many years ago because Maurice Herzog’s account of his successful ascent of Annapurna.

I could no longer abide the The fact that a book about some blokes inching their way up a steady stream of urine that ran snow slope has sold 11 million copies tells you all you need to down the inside of my saloknow. pettes every time I left the hut.

KESTER BROWN All of which got me thinking. During the months of planning for Without wanting to generalise, this, my first Darrans trip, I had reflected on its literary potential but mountaineering writers do tend couldn’t cobble together a credible concept. Now, as I scanned the to take life a bit seriously; too much ‘Why do I do it?’, ‘Why do I have rabble assembled in Homer Hut, I could see enough material for an to be so complicated?’ and ‘Why don’t they like me?’ is definitely omnibus—well, certainly enough for a limited piece in the local climbunhealthy. On this occasion, however, I was strangely gripped. Paul’s

DEAR EDITOR, I RECENTLY HAD A RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE—CLIMBING RELATED OF COURSE—THAT I’D LIKE TO SHARE WITH YOUR READERS. HOWEVER, I’M NOT SURE HOW TO CONVEY IT AND THEREFORE SEEK YOUR GUIDANCE. I’VE ASSEMBLED SOME THOUGHTS AND IDEAS BELOW AND I’D WELCOME ANY (POSITIVE) FEEDBACK THAT YOU HAVE.

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DEREK THATCHER

SIMON CARTER WWW.ONSIGHT-PHOTOGRAPHY.COM

LEFT: DEREK THATCHER. PORTRAIT SHOTS: JOHN PALMER

JAMIE VINTON-BOOT SAVOURS THE PLEASURES OF SOLITUDE (24).

MONIQUE FORESTIER TACKLES TANTALUS (29).

MATT EVRARD ON HIS OWN ROUTE HERCULES (30).

‘AS I SCANNED THE RABBLE ASSEMBLED IN HOMER HUT, I COULD SEE ENOUGH MATERIAL FOR AN OMNIBUS.’ ing rag. Some examples: now is a topic to tie the whole thing together, a few breathtaking phoNick Cradock, the—love him or hate him—president, treasurer and tos and a bit of drama or conflict to spice things up. sole paid up member of the ‘I’m Nick “Pencil Dick” Cradock And If You The obvious choice for topic is Little Babylon. It is (after all) the Don’t Like Me Then F*ck Off’ Club (Wanaka reason why most of my would-be protagonists had branch). congregated at Homer Hut in the first place. Most of Murray ‘Ball Bag’ Ball—fortunately I never your readers will have heard of Babylon and its satellite got to the bottom of this pseudonym. Ball crag, the cleverly named Little Babylon, by now. The Bag is a human lightning conductor, if his discovery and rapid development of these wonder-crags hairstyle is anything to go by, and a non-paid has been well documented in The Climber. Clearly, my up member of Nick’s club. article needs an edge, an angle to hold the reader’s Tom ‘Gomez’ Hoyle, the Mexican from interest. I’ve come up with a few ideas and invite your Southern Faces, who mistakenly believed comments.

BRUCE DOWRICK that his mother’s car was amphibious.

My first idea is pure cheese: ‘I want you to close your Seb Loewensteijn, the straight-talking, eyes (not literally, you’ll need fast-driving giant of New Zealand rock climbing (last seen mooning to keep them open so you can tourists on the Milford road). finish reading this article) and Frog (not his real name), the ‘one alpine start too many’ mounthink back to Bruce Dowrick’s taineer who kept forgetting which bunkroom he was sleeping in. excellent exposé on Babylon, Kester Brown, Prada model and prolific (new?) router. the huge immaculate wall in Bruce ‘John Rambo’ Dowrick, a man who knows the difference the Cleddau Valley. Imagine between a hangdog and a downwards dog. the atmosphere, verticality and Matt ‘ever hard’ Evrard, New Zealand’s most unassuming climbtechnicality. You are getting very MATT EVRARD ing legend and officially the world’s slowest driver. sleepy. Now let your mind drift And last but not least, Brian Alder. I don’t know what Brian’s nickup the hill above Babylon (say name is so I’ll just make one up—like Brian ‘If you bring your lunch to 10–15 minute’s walk), through the rainforest to a smaller but nonethethe Cave, don’t blame me if my dog eats it’ Alder. less impressive bulkhead of granite. Witness the flatness of the crag With a cast like this, my article could almost write itself. All I need base, with plenty of room for lounging around between redpoint burns;

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DEREK THATCHER ON THE SECOND ASCENT OF HERCULES (30).

GARY PHILIPS UNLOCKS THE DEVIOUS HELLBOY (28).

‘… NICK OFFERED TO RELOCATE THE PEBBLE BOULDER (WHICH SITS IN THE RIVERBED OUTSIDE HOMER HUT) TO WELLINGTON IN ORDER TO DOUBLE THE AMOUNT OF GOOD CLIMBING.’ witness the dryness of the crag, even in the most pernicious precipitation; witness the chip-less-ness, with perfect holds created by Mother Nature; witness the steepness, so steep that you need a flip top head just to scope the lines; and witness the fitness required to climb the best hard sport routes in New Zealand.’ I love that last bit.

My second idea is to rattle off a series of one-liners, like ‘More fun than an NZSF regional competition’, ‘Better value than Valentines’ or ‘Sexier than Helen Clark in a leotard’. But somehow the first two don’t seem to do the crag justice and nobody will believe the last one.

Another way to get people’s attention might be to compare the very best qualities of New Zealand’s most popular crags with Little Babylon, to see how it shapes up. I could do this is in some sort of table format (a device rarely seen in climbing literature): Popular crag The Quarry Froggatt Edge Wharepapa South Whanganui Bay Baring Head Paynes Ford Charleston Castle Hill Port Hills Hanging Rock Dunedin Wanaka

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Key attribute/quality Aucklanders Grid bolting Commercial interests Soft rock Eliminates Hippies Trad lines American teenagers Alpine climbers Chipping Only one hard route Nick Cradock

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Available at Little Babylon?

No No No No No No No No No No No If you get lucky

I could just bang on about the sheer volume of hard routes at the crag, and the potential for more. Derek ‘so where’s the hard climbing?’

Thatcher’s Colossus (33) is the hardest climb at Little Babylon so far, but Derek thinks there’s more where that came from. If you’re not climbing 33, don’t worry—there are a bunch of 32s, 31s and a smattering of 30s dotted about the place.

My last idea is to keep it simple and just describe (with customary hyperbole) the life-changing moment when I first laid eyes on Babylon and its mate. I think my exact words were: ‘You can waste your life climbing on shit, or you can come to Milford and live the dream’. Seriously, the scale, the scope, the scenery and the sport climbing is that good! I won’t climb anywhere else. Actually that last statement is a lie, but only because I live in Wellington and I’m desperate.

Moving on; plainly for some readers, good climbing stories are nothing without ‘eye candy’.

Aficionados of gentlemen’s magazines will have some sympathy for this view (my mate Dave insists that he buys such magazines for the articles). Fortunately, eye-popping images of climbing at Little Babylon abound. It seems that most of Babylon’s hard-cranking disciples are handy with a camera—Derek Thatcher, Jon Sedon, Seb Loewensteijn

SIMON CARTER WWW.ONSIGHT-PHOTOGRAPHY.COM

JOHN PALMER

LEFT AND ABOVE: DEREK THATCHER

SIMON CARTER WWW.ONSIGHT-PHOTOGRAPHY.COM

RACHEL MUSGRAVE TAKES A SHOT ON A BRUCE DOWRICK PROJECT.

KESTER BROWN LOOSE ON JESUS BUILT MY HOT ROD (28).

and James Morris, to name a few. I even took a few snaps. If you run my article, I’d expect a massive photo spread!

Last but not least: the conflict and drama. Usually this is where I just make something up. Pleasingly, however, my week in Fiordland produced a handful of episodes that could be usefully adapted for print.

First, there was the aforementioned amphibious vehicle debacle on the first day of our trip.

The key components of the story are: one 1996 Toyota Marino (as in the sheep), one very deep puddle and one confused TOM HOYLE driver. Poor Tom, all he did was misjudge the depth of the puddle outside Homer Hut. Next thing a bow wave is splashing across the windscreen, the car stalls in the middle of the puddle, water pours in through the doors and Kester ‘Changabang was a path’ Brown is refusing to help push because ‘the water is f*cking cold’. And the best bit? Undoubtedly, the American backpacker who rolled up moments later and, in true lemming style, joined us at the bottom of the puddle. Idiot.

Second, later in the week, there were fisticuffs in the Homer Tunnel carpark when Gomez returned to his water taxi to find a thoughtless tourist goading and photographing a kea as it demolished the rubber lining around one of the car windows. Johnny Tourist seemed to be under the misapprehension that Tom’s car was but a prop in his au

MATT EVRARD TAKES ON CYRUS THE GREAT (30).

natural photo shoot of Fiordland. Tom settled the matter by running down the budding ornithologist as he fled for the safety of his 200 foot campervan. In an ironic twist, his body was then eaten by the very same kea.

Third, there was the sleepless night in the bunkroom when a member of the NZAC Southland Section (who shall remain nameless) unleashed the most extraordinarily sustained sleep-farting concerto I have ever heard.

Fourth, there was Nick Cradock’s withering attack one evening on the NZAC’s decision to fund a climbing guidebook for Wellington in front of half a dozen Wellington climbers. He made some good points, although later admitted that he’d never actually climbed in Wellington (it wasn’t clear whether this was because he’d never been to Wellington or because there is nothing in Wellington below grade 18). At one point, Nick offered to relocate the Pebble boulder (which sits in the riverbed outside Homer Hut) to Wellington in order to double the amount of good climbing.

And last but not least, there was plenty of drama at the crag during the week. Like Kester’s wild pre-first ascent tumbles from the chains on his shortcut-to-exposure burl-fest Jesus Built My Hotrod (28) or Gomez’s almost-retrospective first ascent of BRIAN ALDER International Turkey Patrol (25), which ended with a plunge as he tried to climb around the photographer tethered to the anchor (he did it next try).

All told, there is plenty of material here for an article on Little Babylon, even for a hack like me. The difficulty is doing the crag, the people and the experience justice. Hopefully I’ll have something written before the next issue.

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