The seed to climb the adventurous route had been planted a long time ago, but as my good friend and climbing partner was sadly due to leave Australian shores at the end of the year we decided it was now or never to try and tick this route.
Chris and I have had some fantastic hiking and camping adventures and I was his climbing partner on some scary, bitterly cold, and classic routes along the east coast of Australia. Attempting the Governor would be a fitting (temporary) end to our partnership.
The weekend finally arrived, and with a small amount of nerves I returned to Brisbane and prepared for the assault. I picked up Chris on Saturday afternoon and began our journey.
We arrived around 9 PM at Yellowpinch picnic area near the base of Mt Barney, threw a tarp on the ground and attempted to get some sleep. We bivvied below two great trees filled with squealing bats, but under the clear skies shining with the light of a thousand of stars we somehow managed to get some sleep.
Our alarms went off at 3 AM, we threw our sleeping gear in the car and off we went. The half-moon didn't cast too much light, with head torches on we started along an old fire trail. Neither Chris or I had been to Mt Barney before, and we were aware that any difficulties route finding could waste precious hours of climbing. So of course the first track we took was not the beginning of the south east ridge, but a short but steep trail to a small lookout adjacent.
We could see the huge black bulk of Mt Barney looming above us, the outline of the impressive ridges blotting out the stars behind. An impressive sight even in the dark, we had no choice but to head back down to the road and continue further along. A little while later we were on the right path, and we steadily gained altitude as the sun rose.
We could already tell it was going to be a hot day, there was not a cloud in the sky and the early morning mist laying in the valley was quickly burnt off. We made good time on the trail but the hike was steep and hard going.
A few hours later we arrived at the landing below the final steep hike to the summit, here we dropped our large rucksacks, geared up, and set off to find the beginning of the climb.
We lost a bit more time trying to find the start, having to bush bash through rocky scree slopes and around impassible boulders, not entirely sure where we were going. After a few false starts, four and a half hours after we set off, (sixty minutes longer than expected) we spotted some bolts in the rock and started the climb.
I volunteered to do the first pitch, then alternate every other section with Chris. We would both get a chance to lead a decent amount of pitches at all grades and experience the best the route had to offer.
Within a minute of roping up I was already hanging on the first bolt, having a large piece of rock having come away in my hand. The rock quality down low was dire, and as I was trying to find something decent to hold on to I managed to disrupt a gigantic nest of ants, and was quickly covered by the furious little insects. We were already behind schedule, and first impressions were not great. But I quickly got my head in the game and was soon belaying Chris to the start of pitch two.
We quickly became accustomed to the slabby climbing required, and made up a bit of time on the next couple of pitches. The higher we went the better the rock became, and we started really enjoying the route.
The sun was unrelenting, and with a finite amount of water and a long day ahead my main goal was to get through the pitches as quickly as I could. Before what seemed like too long we were on top of pitch five, a third of the way there. We were in the zone, belay transitions were quick, aided by climbing with a very short rope (35m), and we continued to climb each pitch in under 30 minutes.
We both knew the hardest section of climbing was still to come, but we were feeling pretty confident in making good time to the top. There were still some sections with potentially deadly rock falls, and a couple of times I grabbed quickdraws instead of the rock where I felt it was better not to take the risk. Rescue in such a remote and treacherous area would be very difficult, I was happy to forgo climbing the route in the purest spirit of rock climbing if it meant both of us getting back safely.
A few easier sections past the half way point took us to the top of the tenth pitch, we were tantalizingly close to the top. By this stage I was out of water, but we were starting to get a decent breeze and occasional shade as the sun rose ever higher. A mouthful of apple was heaven, at this stage I would have emptied my bank account for a chilled watermelon to gorge on.
More pitches went, and before long we were standing under the final overhanging pitches, forty metres (broken into two pitches) of sustained grade 22 climbing, then a thirty-five metre glory pitch of grade 14 to the summit.
I was up first, I made slow progress, my climbing hampered by shredded fingers and aching feet, but eventually I dogged my way to the belay anchors, with Chris soon following with more style.
It was his chance to lead the final hard pitch, and he managed to onsight (no falls, no rests, climbing cleanly) the intricate, delicate and technical final hard pitch. A superhuman effort after 280m of demanding climbing by Chris, I slowly seconded the pitch and we found ourselves at the end of the fourteenth pitch.
It was a simple matter of scrambling the last thirty-five metres of the easiest climbing of the day, Chris basically ran up the final pitch in just over two minutes to take our total time to 6 hours and 58 minutes. We had done it, almost twelve hours after waking up we were on the summit! It was a sight to behold, a stunning view as far as the eyes could see. We were elated.
We allowed ourselves a short rest before hiking back down the very steep trail, an hour later we were back at our rucksacks where much needed water and snacks were waiting.
Another short break to pack our gear, then it was time to return to the car. The hike down was eternal, steep and unrelenting, hours went by as we following the trail ever lower.
We finally hit the fire trail late in the afternoon and were glad to have some flat ground to cover, but cruelly it seemed much longer on the way out. There was no choice but to go on, and with minutes of daylight to spare, fifteen and a half hours after we set off, we arrived back to the car.
Shoes came off, beers were cracked, and we toasted our achievement. An unforgettable experience, worth every minute.
What next???
More photos here
