tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-164970682024-03-13T21:03:49.672+10:00The living rock: the origins of climbing in AustraliaThis site is an archive of documents, images, interviews and other information relevant to the origins of climbing in Australia. Comments are welcome (meadowsmh@gmail.com). Text copyright 2023 M.Meadows. Copyright to photographs is held by named photographers. Please request permission to reproduce.Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.comBlogger178125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-31044620573890509612023-08-10T12:30:00.006+10:002023-08-10T16:38:43.265+10:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>About <i>The Living Rock...</i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><b> The Dugandan -- 1998</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span>(from left) Bryden Cais, Greg Sheard, Ian Thomas, Paula McCall (partly obscured), unknown, Celia and Chris Thompson, Wendy Steele (at end of table), Scott Stewart, </span>Trish Hindmarsh, Keith Harper, Carola Henley and Ted Cais. Photo: Michael Meadows</span></div>
<span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><span>THIS JOURNEY into Australian rockclimbing history began (above) on a warm Winter's afternoon in 1998 at the Dugandan Hotel, near Boonah. I was sitting around a table on the veranda of the pub with a group of friends, climbers, young and old. My school friends Greg Sheard and Ian Thomas were there as was Ted Cais with his son, Bryden. Ted and Bryden were visiting for another stint of climbing at nearby Frog Buttress from Ted's new home in the United States. Greg tossed a copy of Rick White's original climbing guide to the crag onto the table and the young climbers present pored over it as if it was the Holy Grail. It was clear that they valued this moment and the apparently insignificant, hand-stapled collection of words and images. It may have been at that moment that I realised that it was far more than a rockclimbing guide: it represented a historical moment in the origins of climbing in Queensland -- and beyond.</span></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span><br /></span><span>A defining feature of many of the crags that have become so attractive to climbers in Queensland and elsewhere in Australia is the presence of vegetation in multifarious forms — from the smallest algae and lichen to tenacious shrubs and even large trees. This ‘living rock’ is a central feature of Queensland climbing, particularly on the low-angled cliffs where Queensland climbing culture was invented. It is ‘living rock’ in another sense as well, defining the relationship between climbers and the vertical world we temporarily inhabit.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span> </span><br /><span>Mountaineer and former Italian Vice-Consul in Brisbane in the early postwar period, Felice Benuzzi, identified an element of this ‘Australian-ness’ in his vivid descriptions of climbing and the environment in the Glass House Mountains, north of the city. Felice had contacted the inimitable ‘spiritual father’ of Queensland climbing, Bert Salmon, who took the diplomat on several ascents in southeast Queensland in 1952. Following a climb up Caves Route on Tibrogargan, Felice and Bert were walking back to their car through a forest of Eucalypts. Oblivious to 60,000 years of Indigenous culture, the Italian diplomat mused on the Australian environment:</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><blockquote style="border: medium; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The huge smooth trunks of the trees don’t recall images of cathedrals or columns of ancient temples, even though the colour could perhaps evoke something like marble and travertine. The thought repudiates such comparisons. They just don’t hold up. They’re out of key in this world that seems lacking in history. Yet Bertie, who was born and who has lived here, doesn’t seem to feel this sense of vacuum, of emptiness; this lack of something that is so difficult to express. I don’t dare to confess to him my thoughts for fear of offending him. He loves this forest; he loves this Australia with a devotion of a son.</span></div></blockquote><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">This particularly Eurocentric attitude was commonplace in 1950s Australia and yet it lingers today. Every aspect of landscape was inscribed into Indigenous cultures eons before First Nations people ‘discovered’ Europeans. Some have suggested that it is this unique, rich cultural heritage that should influence how we ‘imagine’ our own idea of climbing in Australia. It is anything but the ‘sense of vacuum’ that Felice Benuzzi described albeit this parallel world remains largely invisible to most non-Indigenous Australians. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span>In the early 1990s, an influential figure in Australian rockclimbing history, John Ewbank, evoked the spiritual relationship between people and landscape by drawing on Indigenous concepts. He argued that the elements that make a particular location ‘sacred’ for Indigenous people — ritual, belief and tradition — should also be central to understanding Australian rockclimbing culture. While acknowledging the clear differences in interpretation and meaning between Indigenous and non-Indigenous cosmologies, he suggests an analogy: that the act of climbing can be seen as ‘turning a piece of rock into a sacred site’ and ‘it is then that we superimpose special values on it, even if these values are comprehensible only to other climbers’. He concludes:</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><blockquote style="border: medium; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I think it is becoming increasingly important for climbers to see cliffs and mountains within the context of a broader landscape and to realise that these outcrops, these ‘bones of the planet’ are already sacred, just as they are to many people other than climbers. </span></div></blockquote><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span><br /></span><span>Sadly, ignorance and/or denial of a history of Indigenous custodianship of places that include climbing destinations has skewed recent public debate around access to crags. The ‘loudest voices’ seem to ignore the undeniable Indigenous heritage that has resulted in these places being preserved for our enjoyment. For some, it seems, less a century of regular climbing activity can override 60,000 years of Indigenous history. </span><br /><span><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span>But apart from a lack of engagement with this philosophical question, a majority of climbers who have railed against restrictions on access to ‘their’ crags do not seem to understand that it is Australian law that they are now challenging. The 1992 High Court Mabo decision effectively destroyed the legal fiction that Australia was an empty land — </span><i>terra nullius</i><span> — at the time of European invasion in 1788. The High Court decision — ratified in 1993 by the Australian Parliament — set up a framework for Indigenous land to be </span><i>returned</i><span> to the original custodians — in effect, a cohort of an estimated 250 different ‘countries’ (with 500 separate languages) at the time of European invasion. Despite popular media misrepresentations of the </span><i>Native Title Act</i><span> as some sort of ‘land grab’, the legislation was designed primarily to protect </span><i>non-Indigenous</i><span> property rights. In fact, the ‘land grab’ occurred at the time of European invasion and settlement.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span><br /></span><span>Native Title claims are limited to vacant Crown land, waterways, and parks and reserves — and it is the latter that has created conflict with some members of the climbing community because it is where most climbing cliffs are found. It has taken decades, in some cases, for Indigenous people whose communities and economic structures were disrupted and destroyed by European invasion and settlement, to gather sufficient evidence to make a Native Title claim over a particular country — or what’s left of it. Once a claim is proven, under Australian law, the identified Traditional Owners have the right to maintain and protect sites, to use the land for hunting or ceremony, camp and live there, share in any proceeds generated by development of the land, and to have a say in land management and development.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><span>This historical and legal context seems largely absent from the online climbing community discussions in recent years. What most don’t seem to understand that it is not ‘our’ land — it is Aboriginal land and the 1993 </span><i>Native Title Act</i><span> has inscribed that into Australian law. We have been trespassing — albeit for many, unwittingly — on Aboriginal land from the time the first Europeans began seeking out the heights. But the world has changed and as climbers, we must change with it and respect the rights of the Traditional Owners — and Australian law. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span><br /></span><span>Interestingly, there have been several instances of climbing cliffs developed on private land around the country — at least two in Queensland alone — where the owners have subsequently closed them down, refusing all access, mainly because of bad behaviour (loud voices, swearing, gates left open etc). Strangely, there have been no public outcries by climbers about these imposed restrictions to ‘save our summits’. Why not? Because we acknowledge private land ownership laws. Similarly, restrictions on climbing to iconic summits like Uluru and Balls Pyramid have largely been accepted — so why don’t we afford the same degree of respect and acceptance to Native Title holders who now have the same legal rights under the </span><i>Native Title Act</i><span>? </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span><br /></span><span>On another level, sport climbing and its associated activities — placing bolts and the use of chalk — seems to have done a very good job of attracting unwanted attention by leaving permanent and semi-permanent markers on the landscape. To non-climbers — and the handful of those who have eschewed the use of these climbing ‘aids’ outdoors — it is evidence of disrespect, little different from defacing scenic areas with graffiti. Is this how climbers demonstrate ‘care’ for the environment? I have often wondered whether we would be even dealing with such issues now if the use of bolts and chalk -- and questions of access -- had been more discreetly managed. </span><br /><span><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">I am hopeful that wisdom, knowledge and good sense will prevail and that climbers and Traditional Owners will reach a compromise through genuine negotiation rather than confrontation or litigation to enable us all to share this amazing country by respecting these priceless resources. It is precisely this unique cultural heritage that sets Australian climbing culture apart from the rest of the world. So why not enlist Traditional Owners or their representatives to share creation stories of the places we visit; involve local Indigenous communities in existing (or new) climbing education and training activities and in the business structures that profit from access to these special areas; or incorporate local Indigenous cultures into climbing guides? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><p style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 5px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We can do do better than we have done thus far. A lot better.</span></p></div><div>
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<br /></div></div></div>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-283384770282722922023-03-21T09:19:00.000+10:002023-03-21T09:19:35.665+10:00<p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Two Tassie summits and a classic climb</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaK_HqdRTS8jodN50ku68KjBkXyi-u51IWS_7adRSUJeUmjoeKM4A1CpMSEQwnS_ZhdqaZ_-e1qwCP9-4TfUqEFqpS1XSBfjrtbgsoPZsWOxewn8rBTFHuEyo7kGDf4Hin0PL9UieO-CH1ZywrCBDdSBQ9FOQdVtI3bayBHzNiS3B66zNoSjM" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4467" data-original-width="2890" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaK_HqdRTS8jodN50ku68KjBkXyi-u51IWS_7adRSUJeUmjoeKM4A1CpMSEQwnS_ZhdqaZ_-e1qwCP9-4TfUqEFqpS1XSBfjrtbgsoPZsWOxewn8rBTFHuEyo7kGDf4Hin0PL9UieO-CH1ZywrCBDdSBQ9FOQdVtI3bayBHzNiS3B66zNoSjM=w413-h640" width="413" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />One for the surgeon: Ian 'Humzoo' Thomas testing out his recently-reconstructed knee <br />on the classic climbing route, <i>Apline</i> - Whitewater Wall, Freycinet, March 2023</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></p><p>There has been a run of obituaries on this blog over past few months so I think it's time to celebrate the living. I had the great pleasure to travel extensively around Tasmania in March, 2023, with good friend and legendary climber, Ian 'Humzoo' Thomas. Ian had a knee reconstruction six weeks earlier and was keen to test it out on a few challenging summits - and the fabulous Whitewater Wall climbing route, <i>Apline</i>. His knee passed with flying colours.</p><p>The video embedded below captures our two summit climbs - Mount Victoria in northeast Tassie and Mount King William I in the southwest. It was a truly memorable journey and a testament to Ian's incredible persistence in re-discovering the fine physical form of his younger days. Our shared euphoria at seeing a cloud-free Frenchman's Cap - several times - with the southwest's extraordinary mountain landscape spread out before us was unforgettable. </p><p>This is why we do it! </p><p>The wonders and beauty of Tasmania's wild places are self-evident - it's the camaraderie and inevitable humour that always takes this to a new level.</p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j17-lFjO99s">Two Tassie Summits video (18:32)</a></p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-63087054368798474622023-01-31T16:06:00.000+10:002023-01-31T16:06:19.676+10:00<p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Vale Will Steffen 1947-2023</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Climate scientist, climber and climbing historian</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQedV9-_7OFEvw__iJ1Y3a83qGEPQ891BQxuHUGdoI1wpAeufznNJoBW5QAc-LUpgu3-IEyVitLbDM82LUworADNlDHfme5FfJZge-iNohZUOhSYK2EQSSFFnBXOMeBujmqtQfbsaAWFEvEq_b7Bq_nyVTyzVZYFrQE_23mHoB80dw9G8klHY/s1200/Fns0AqgagAIX74v-copy-scaled.jpg.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="971" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQedV9-_7OFEvw__iJ1Y3a83qGEPQ891BQxuHUGdoI1wpAeufznNJoBW5QAc-LUpgu3-IEyVitLbDM82LUworADNlDHfme5FfJZge-iNohZUOhSYK2EQSSFFnBXOMeBujmqtQfbsaAWFEvEq_b7Bq_nyVTyzVZYFrQE_23mHoB80dw9G8klHY/w324-h400/Fns0AqgagAIX74v-copy-scaled.jpg.webp" width="324" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />Will Steffen (Photo courtesy Climate Council)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I didn't ever meet Will Steffen but I was aware of his extraordinary work in climate science and his perhaps lesser-known contributions to Australian climbing history. </span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He became a resident of Canberra in 1977 when he moved from the US to take up a postdoctoral research position with the Australian National University (ANU). He spent 35 years exploring mountain regions of the world, rockclimbing and mountaineering on every continent except Antarctica. He was a member of the 1988 Australian Baruntse (7129 metres) Expedition, forced to retreat 100 vertical metres below the summit by dangerous snow conditions on a knife-edge ridge. An account of the expedition is available in <i><a href="https://www.himalayanclub.org/hj/46/22/expeditions-and-notes-46/#point3">The Himalayan Journal</a></i>. </span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Will had an abiding interest in Australian mountaineering, penning two surveys of Australian Himalayan climbing, along with profiles of prominent local mountaineers. His 2017 book, <i><a href=" https://press.anu.edu.au/publications/himalayan-dreaming ">Himalayan Dreaming</a></i>, is the most complete and best-researched document of Australian mountaineering, particularly on the heights in Asia. The book is available as a free download from ANU Press. Highly recommended! </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Will Steffen was also an outstanding and outspoken climate scientist whose influence spread globally. Formerly Executive Director of the Climate Change Institute at the ANU, in more recent years he served as a Climate Commissioner on the not-for-profit Climate Council - an organisation started in 2013 when the conservative federal government under Prime Minister Tony Abbott disbanded the Climate Commission within days of being elected to power. He also worked with numerous international climate research bodies. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Will was a passionate advocate for recognition of the level of human intervention driving climate change globally. Described by his many supportive colleagues as a leading thinker, optimistic and kind, he once wrote in response to student demonstrations against the lack of action against climate change: </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span>The students are right. Their future is now being threatened by the greed of the wealthy fossil fuel elite, the lies of the Murdoch press, and the weakness of our political leaders. These people have no right to destroy my daughter's future and that of her generation.</span> </span></p></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(cited in <i>The Guardian</i>)</span></p></blockquote></blockquote><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Following a battle with pancreatic cancer, Will Steffen died peacefully in Canberra with his wife of 51 years, Carrie, and his daughter, Sonja, by his side. He was 75.</span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Other tributes and background</span></b></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><a href="https://reneweconomy.com.au/vale-will-steffen-australia-mourns-loss-of-a-true-climate-warrior/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Renew Economy: clean energy news and analysis</span></a></i></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2023/jan/31/will-steffen-courageous-climate-scientist-dies-in-canberra-aged-75?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Guardian</span></a></i></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Will_Steffen"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wikipedia</span></a></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://www.planetpolitics.org/steffen"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Planet Politics Institute</span></a></p><p style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://www.climatecouncil.org.au/author/will-steffen/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Climate Council</span></a></p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-207849676466080132022-12-25T10:51:00.000+10:002022-12-25T10:51:07.929+10:00Climbing Logan's Ridge with a legend...<p style="text-align: center;"><b> Mount Barney: 21 December 2022</b></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahLl6SbDo4PpQ-niXuS_IULaOcjHcvn7uK5sdbXV8_lv_20NsCvNW0A9tjVt4svZGubv8QPKFJ9Io_mIkytcXYPv9c2vPAtrq_aDHD1KSFW0tnjjOIcqH1NLyH-hxGCzwIgVgRujRA2y31MdrI4pkXKf-OLa9af8RZ-kj9aX-7hbQtKkpLFg/s5502/GOPR0593.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4126" data-original-width="5502" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahLl6SbDo4PpQ-niXuS_IULaOcjHcvn7uK5sdbXV8_lv_20NsCvNW0A9tjVt4svZGubv8QPKFJ9Io_mIkytcXYPv9c2vPAtrq_aDHD1KSFW0tnjjOIcqH1NLyH-hxGCzwIgVgRujRA2y31MdrI4pkXKf-OLa9af8RZ-kj9aX-7hbQtKkpLFg/w400-h300/GOPR0593.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I had the great privilege of visiting Mt Barney with pioneering climber and adventurer Alan Frost. I doubt that anyone else has made the ascent of Logan's Ridge, aged 87 years and 9 months...and he's not done yet! </p><p><br /></p><p>VIDEO: <a href="https://youtu.be/VV_jV3xgM40" target="_blank">Alan Frost climbing Logan's Ridge on Mt Barney -- the best mountain in Australia!</a></p><p><br /></p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-5240412326695044162022-08-16T21:12:00.003+10:002022-08-16T21:14:27.116+10:00Vale Rod Bolton: adventurer, photographer, climber<p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Rodney Frank Bolton </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">22 July 1943 - 20 July 2022</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt3oZVBkMYEdjkJ7xwLBTEwz7EyDOyTsyrk14ELNlgvCwxCy9rvOhseZnjkfmFHQjEMMWTs8akmXb3R43M5OGVq0wTB473frLuXlya75Y8i5m0bM40v2icmrn9EYYsZRGEfGL6F5hEJb91HWQUP2GfCAcHW0TwOwkiLr-fKI4rwrzIkotMbRg/s4288/018%203%202010_1122copies-15-16-17-0140.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4288" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt3oZVBkMYEdjkJ7xwLBTEwz7EyDOyTsyrk14ELNlgvCwxCy9rvOhseZnjkfmFHQjEMMWTs8akmXb3R43M5OGVq0wTB473frLuXlya75Y8i5m0bM40v2icmrn9EYYsZRGEfGL6F5hEJb91HWQUP2GfCAcHW0TwOwkiLr-fKI4rwrzIkotMbRg/w640-h426/018%203%202010_1122copies-15-16-17-0140.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p>Early in 1970, Rod Bolton accepted a commission from noted Queensland climber Rick White to produce a short silent Super 8mm movie of Rick and his then climbing partner, Ross 'Cecil' Allen, making the 2nd ascent of the climbing route, 'Odin', at Frog Buttress. 'Odin' was at the time one of the hardest routes in Australia and certainly amongst the most strenuous, requiring superlative jamB-climbing skills and a high level of energy. Rick White had both and it was these elements that Rod captured in the historic four-minute movie he created. It is a rare glimpse of the climbing style that defined that particular clean-climbing era in Australian rockclimbing history. Hanging on abseil lines beside the climbers and with a second camera unit in action on the day, the skilfully-edited short film was affectionately dubbed <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYqm_qZ1e6Y" target="_blank">Deep Purple on Rock</a></i> by Rick, a longtime fan of the British rockers, <i>Deep Purple</i> (and of the colour purple), and screened to disbelieving climbers in the southern states in the early 1970s accompanied by <i>Deep Purple's </i>booming anthem, <i>Smoke on the Water</i>. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY6gdFnrT8heCrVJZSlDTergDUPWdnCL4hKtDR87RsESa9DVF89C6wPJ2CvWaJb3bGV_Ouc_8kS9ApYlxfwOpowVdjVry3tNEJ98slMwOLuf9MXx4LKtHRMtJ3mtsJKroXmWF5XBffLZs120muwqqHS-shLY7tft_Gf75mjIOHz4IfHXM9Frw/s2330/04.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2330" data-original-width="1575" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY6gdFnrT8heCrVJZSlDTergDUPWdnCL4hKtDR87RsESa9DVF89C6wPJ2CvWaJb3bGV_Ouc_8kS9ApYlxfwOpowVdjVry3tNEJ98slMwOLuf9MXx4LKtHRMtJ3mtsJKroXmWF5XBffLZs120muwqqHS-shLY7tft_Gf75mjIOHz4IfHXM9Frw/w432-h640/04.jpg" width="432" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rick White starts the 2nd ascent of 'Odin' in 1970 (Rod Bolton collection)</span><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi170xe5uD3T9ekM3_XxKqs9LJp8DMA3cdn9DUKTc3-2MksNYiuUuKMyYTA_Qqdd_m94-z062r27ucu4Hx4kFYOGSn-qt7ikewENgR4P5bTraNmr-Sl-CWEFO3nFySROxChO7X63OI4MGWFAE20cCjSEZxCUrnxbRNpSUD9ypRlLjXkMc70YUs/s4288/16.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4288" data-original-width="2848" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi170xe5uD3T9ekM3_XxKqs9LJp8DMA3cdn9DUKTc3-2MksNYiuUuKMyYTA_Qqdd_m94-z062r27ucu4Hx4kFYOGSn-qt7ikewENgR4P5bTraNmr-Sl-CWEFO3nFySROxChO7X63OI4MGWFAE20cCjSEZxCUrnxbRNpSUD9ypRlLjXkMc70YUs/w426-h640/16.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rod Bolton (left) hangs on an abseil line filming Rick White's 2nd ascent of 'Odin' at Frog Buttress in 1970 <br />(Rod Bolton collection)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>Rod was something of a polymath with climbing included in his set of diverse outdoor interests. His name appears on several new routes in southeast Queensland in 1969: on the now banned Glass House Mountains pinnacle of Crookneck ('Stairs', climbed with Rick and Alan Brown) and a memorable Frog Buttress contribution, 'Chocolate Watchband', again climbing with Rick. </p><p>Born in London in 1943, Rod soon discovered his interest and skill in building and repairing, starting with model aircraft, some with tiny diesel engines and even one with a pellet fuel-powered jet engine. By the time he was 13, through Scouts, he discovered a great love of the outdoors. He started work at British Railways as an apprentice electrician, repairing vacuum cleaners on the side often using materials salvaged from the scrap bins at the train yards. Like his climbing contemporary in Australia - Ted Cais - albeit years earlier, Rod successfully directed a small electrical current through a doorknob to 'shock' the lowly apprentices when they grabbed the handle. This sense of humour was a theme that ran through his life.</p><p>Like many previous climbers, Rod was into motorbikes as a teenager and frequented local haunts on his beloved Norton Dominator. He was definitely a 'Rocker' in the age of 'Mods' and 'Rockers' - the Swinging Sixties - modelling his hair style on a youthful Marlon Brando who came to fame in the cult movie, <i>The Wild One</i>. One of Rod's challenges was to put on a three minute-long vinyl record and race his bike to an appointed place in town, trying to make it back before the song finished. And again, like earlier daring climbers in Queensland (Bob Waring in particular), he was fascinated by the Isle of Man TT motorcycle races, once completing a lap with one of his mates as pillion in 46 minutes! His earlier contemporary, Bob Waring actually entered the race one year in the early 1950s and was in third place when he had to withdraw with engine trouble!</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicj6QSulJoaITcU5qVF0UOMKPKVH5c4B8xgemb-CMA5yyGSz37aW5-ij18lgf-8ND5TYw0JqP3neyotpDzy3iA_ocrI51TBVatMNDGLtvRZGpiRd_EJnSf2XZ_ibk897sV6O46yDZQrPUygK6vITWZOqgAhk0iTO3K-soPxOh7qDzQLPdkBjw/s4200/0006.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4200" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicj6QSulJoaITcU5qVF0UOMKPKVH5c4B8xgemb-CMA5yyGSz37aW5-ij18lgf-8ND5TYw0JqP3neyotpDzy3iA_ocrI51TBVatMNDGLtvRZGpiRd_EJnSf2XZ_ibk897sV6O46yDZQrPUygK6vITWZOqgAhk0iTO3K-soPxOh7qDzQLPdkBjw/w640-h434/0006.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rod on the summit of Beerwah, Glass House Mountains, in the late 1960s (Rod Bolton collection)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>In 1964, Rod emigrated to Australia, along with several of his friends as '10 pound Poms', ending up in a share flat at Kangaroo Point in Brisbane after driving north from cold, miserable Melbourne in a Khombi van. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfaEh5A3wg-4Ao2tc7zJXCprz4_4981VHuGUNO0UbSdpFATCC_lPors0GcRe5ySFKF-YHtaJL5yYb5-U1i1bplFB88bbo6HLSlnYILFl6i-GUQjgOAN-qj7OrQPV5dypjfJE_YbZEUcwSCzZFu-aDJFOAuUdG3J1tDXF0n2uTEjdKijE9QPr8/s4288/20%20Tibro,%20Alan%20Milband%20&%20Adventures%20club%20novices.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4288" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfaEh5A3wg-4Ao2tc7zJXCprz4_4981VHuGUNO0UbSdpFATCC_lPors0GcRe5ySFKF-YHtaJL5yYb5-U1i1bplFB88bbo6HLSlnYILFl6i-GUQjgOAN-qj7OrQPV5dypjfJE_YbZEUcwSCzZFu-aDJFOAuUdG3J1tDXF0n2uTEjdKijE9QPr8/w640-h426/20%20Tibro,%20Alan%20Milband%20&%20Adventures%20club%20novices.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">An Adventurers' Club outing on Tibrogargan in 1969 - Alan Milband (with the rope) instructs beginners <br />on an ascent of Caves Route (Rod Bolton collection</span>)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXF1uxmD4kHXnH2daERomaGgC_pJFxt4F_2ppwpeKlTSSgnxkG8dvze1qb9-LhPlSh0BUEyzWbAJhl4ypC7-NAhiERjUHE4pxCfKNv46ptqcEgzshQrUZ-eI7718i721fUM0ZHUOnhfP40bC0VitsMkvpEualIPl8gcfHtGQIhuToSIILvInk/s4288/27%20Rod%20Bolton%20abseil%20practice.%20Mt%20Beerwah.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4288" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXF1uxmD4kHXnH2daERomaGgC_pJFxt4F_2ppwpeKlTSSgnxkG8dvze1qb9-LhPlSh0BUEyzWbAJhl4ypC7-NAhiERjUHE4pxCfKNv46ptqcEgzshQrUZ-eI7718i721fUM0ZHUOnhfP40bC0VitsMkvpEualIPl8gcfHtGQIhuToSIILvInk/w640-h426/27%20Rod%20Bolton%20abseil%20practice.%20Mt%20Beerwah.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rod abseiling on the lower slopes of Mt Beerwah in the Glass House Mountains on an Adventurers' Club excursion in 1969 <br />(Rod Bolton collection)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicL-ZoHVqIMnJRiKuMbFTMUa6EKSt4ugAtWEGSk6j8yeuQpp4pb9PXzqcdU1cZnbARNKjJ3WOPT9DuxEcBI8dY0lHa18VQzFMTXeTfzoxZ6EF2vA7dZ9VhIVnpPA3EXd-0bWUfJm6NiTeq3wU1acybGgfz2IQ8exIsZm4O0n1mzX6RpACskl8/s4288/22%20Tibro,%20Alan%20Milband.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4288" data-original-width="2848" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicL-ZoHVqIMnJRiKuMbFTMUa6EKSt4ugAtWEGSk6j8yeuQpp4pb9PXzqcdU1cZnbARNKjJ3WOPT9DuxEcBI8dY0lHa18VQzFMTXeTfzoxZ6EF2vA7dZ9VhIVnpPA3EXd-0bWUfJm6NiTeq3wU1acybGgfz2IQ8exIsZm4O0n1mzX6RpACskl8/w426-h640/22%20Tibro,%20Alan%20Milband.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Alan Milband leading boldly in Volley OCs on Tibrogargan - Adventurers' Club outing 1969 (Rod Bolton collection)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>A few years later he joined the Adventurers' Club, a group of outdoors' enthusiasts who met regularly at a refurbished boathouse on the banks of the Brisbane River at Kangaroo Point. It was through this active organisation that he met Rick White who had been engaged by the club as a climbing instructor. He also met up with ex-pat Welsh climber Alan Milband and local Ian Cameron, both featuring in bold early ascents in southeast Queensland - Alan on the 3rd ascent of the East Face of Mt Barney (with Greg Sheard) and Ian on many of the early 1st ascents at Frog Buttress (with Rick White). Rod was a highly skilled photographer and worked for some years as a camera repair technician, drawing on his extraordinary engineering skills. In more recent years, both Rod and Ian joined a growing number of backyard native bee keepers with several hives of the curious little stingless insects between them.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3V86AfiqAMdkOciouNizAVoJWBR3c8fChF0eJQB7jf_FL83f9-qPzqOzbagby1Gfj7WrrNn58Gp9Xw-IPHuencwN3gZPKWQNyYDUkQ8rFS5wB-XOZ4TqqE3j5Gt1CWMVKBPYlcT4uY_mn12EawLYFJSMv4g3W8_CkFoyb4zztQcHNQEwAAU/s4236/0005.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4236" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3V86AfiqAMdkOciouNizAVoJWBR3c8fChF0eJQB7jf_FL83f9-qPzqOzbagby1Gfj7WrrNn58Gp9Xw-IPHuencwN3gZPKWQNyYDUkQ8rFS5wB-XOZ4TqqE3j5Gt1CWMVKBPYlcT4uY_mn12EawLYFJSMv4g3W8_CkFoyb4zztQcHNQEwAAU/w640-h429/0005.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rod with Alan Milband on the summit of Tibrogargan in the Glass House Mountains in 1969 (Rod Bolton collection)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I reconnected with both Rod and Ian through my research for climbing history book, <i>The living rock,</i> and my own interest in native bees. Rod and Ian had planned a visit to my place to split one of my hives when COVID struck in 2019, grounding us all temporarily. Although I never climbed with Rod, his infectious good humour and his extraordinary attention to detail will forever stay with me. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtXOahrFK137PcXUDDMzD7Zrc1ApXAMDVcEqBWgkaEtex2AIvkpuXfLFVgRi0y2Ev6A7HotdS4HbPXyNfAF1Y0NNwchn2WjhxgwXr7iuMyPm8dNfiqbHD5GDKcu6fluks7pb2VQO9QGJGJYbQxYgUQi38y9Vz8ZKRsDsvnuBc3asd0O_FaI6A/s4052/0004.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4052" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtXOahrFK137PcXUDDMzD7Zrc1ApXAMDVcEqBWgkaEtex2AIvkpuXfLFVgRi0y2Ev6A7HotdS4HbPXyNfAF1Y0NNwchn2WjhxgwXr7iuMyPm8dNfiqbHD5GDKcu6fluks7pb2VQO9QGJGJYbQxYgUQi38y9Vz8ZKRsDsvnuBc3asd0O_FaI6A/w640-h450/0004.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />(from left) Alan Brown, Rick White and Rod on the summit of Coonowrin, Glass House Mountains,<br />probably after their 1st ascent of the climb, 'Stairs', in July 1969.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>When Rod was diagnosed with aggressive pancreatic cancer a few months ago, his typically throwaway response was simply: 'Shit happens.' His experiences are emblematic of so many of us who comprise the climbing-outdoors community. All of us have lives, families and friends beyond the crags and for me, his story underlines the broad spectrum of 'ordinary' people who comprise the Australian climbing/outdoors community. The vast majority of us will never find our names aligned with terms like 'the longest', 'the hardest', or 'the best', but it explains one of the great appeals of exploring the outdoors in whatever form we choose: each of us is able to have our own unique, intensely personal experiences that can - and usually do - enrich our lives. Crossing paths with Rod has enhanced this process for many of us. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTlJIncucmGvsM2JL058vVg_T6fPJzyC3iWVkPHV5XXhyIzcztHN5Zplcuttfd3-igKRWmjAs6q0ayamZloB-s_9rueOj9J72jtw3JjaxbUnpPAzAhxsOYlB1YcTlEK5F0dZkdLHckNGtJQlkve6NmUiy_XeOuMFFEgpjLBOa-zeXQeGBBdBg/s4188/0021.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4188" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTlJIncucmGvsM2JL058vVg_T6fPJzyC3iWVkPHV5XXhyIzcztHN5Zplcuttfd3-igKRWmjAs6q0ayamZloB-s_9rueOj9J72jtw3JjaxbUnpPAzAhxsOYlB1YcTlEK5F0dZkdLHckNGtJQlkve6NmUiy_XeOuMFFEgpjLBOa-zeXQeGBBdBg/w640-h436/0021.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rod on an early ascent at Frog Buttress in 1969<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpIrWnz0hmR4RDH8SH-F_KUrPndGmWOJpxtsBRW-VAbdF8bjZIrN0ucz55nEVGXXzNe_iPnkwzMdgud7k_kpHwUylpAqWd-Vp4z8xfEmZlUzcywUmdbS0CMVFZRKhUq9OR8osv8je98BVdHWp3oET7Ng81EzeYI7OuOIAq1_HKcTu4IFrD250/s1880/05%20Tibro,%20carborundum.%20Ian%20Cameron.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1880" data-original-width="1264" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpIrWnz0hmR4RDH8SH-F_KUrPndGmWOJpxtsBRW-VAbdF8bjZIrN0ucz55nEVGXXzNe_iPnkwzMdgud7k_kpHwUylpAqWd-Vp4z8xfEmZlUzcywUmdbS0CMVFZRKhUq9OR8osv8je98BVdHWp3oET7Ng81EzeYI7OuOIAq1_HKcTu4IFrD250/w430-h640/05%20Tibro,%20carborundum.%20Ian%20Cameron.jpg" width="430" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ian Cameron (belayed by Rod) searching for a suitable 'cracker' placement on the 1st pitch of Carborundum<br />Tibrogargan, 1969 (Rod Bolton collection)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwxNlNYdROI7j7wiFEY4ZtnzRsrAJiSy1omkFIq6Ln0Ymov6lklmVT0sUNq-a7Bz6VY9JWKIWPuZG-zxYTvz7QwgWbHoPipcXhmGZ-CCSe9aHqetDfzfzA4e9IlPjucto44H8jsZUWJy1iIDd06u86qayGYBsXOC0G4gIIDbChzA6-2PEG-q4/s4629/Alans%20fall_0001.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4629" data-original-width="3397" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwxNlNYdROI7j7wiFEY4ZtnzRsrAJiSy1omkFIq6Ln0Ymov6lklmVT0sUNq-a7Bz6VY9JWKIWPuZG-zxYTvz7QwgWbHoPipcXhmGZ-CCSe9aHqetDfzfzA4e9IlPjucto44H8jsZUWJy1iIDd06u86qayGYBsXOC0G4gIIDbChzA6-2PEG-q4/w470-h640/Alans%20fall_0001.jpg" width="470" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">A smiling Rod Bolton (centre rear with beanie) oversees a stretcher party carrying his friend, Alan Milband, seriously injured in a fall on Mt Barney's West Peak in 1969. <br />Greg Sheard (front left) leads the rescue team to glory (<i>The Courier-Mail</i>, Rod Bolton collection)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-14401244628493023552022-05-14T12:05:00.007+10:002022-05-15T22:31:23.505+10:00TWO TRIBUTES TO WOMEN ON THE HEIGHTS<p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Vale Cecily Fearnley 1925-2022</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; text-align: justify;">The photograph (below) of local pioneering climber-bushwalker, Cecily Fearnley, was recently sent to me by a family friend and with permission, I'm posting it here. A passionate and award-winning environmentalist and museum artist, Cecily was founding vice-president of the Brisbane Bush Walkers in 1949. She passed away in January, 2022, just before her 97th birthday. I had the good fortune of meeting Cecily -- known as 'Noosa's natural living treasure' -- in 2016 at the Noosa Library when she attended a presentation I gave on local climbing history, based on my research for </span><i style="font-family: helvetica; text-align: justify;">The living rock</i><span style="font-family: helvetica; text-align: justify;">. I recall that she was the first to arrive and the last to leave that day and we spent time talking about her various ascents in the Glass House Mountains in the 1950s and 1960s. While it is sad that another of our pioneering women has moved on, the environmental legacy she has helped to create will remain.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0C0VNYIa8ECuwwloccauuhHNe4bkBnaS3QGK9h54uYNuxvmk5e0ZumCuL9vM4C3F3rvcoFUNYMOsf5XR73FV_NQs2YccQ_-vzeQnf4ngaPJf8djxTMKK7M4_XWBbMYjMqJcASM7p-5qsHTaf9DpQ5KFgp9S-HjxQi0m2yf4TY4JbeFrpXcU/s1518/Cecily%20climbs%20Mt%20Tibrogagin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1518" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0C0VNYIa8ECuwwloccauuhHNe4bkBnaS3QGK9h54uYNuxvmk5e0ZumCuL9vM4C3F3rvcoFUNYMOsf5XR73FV_NQs2YccQ_-vzeQnf4ngaPJf8djxTMKK7M4_XWBbMYjMqJcASM7p-5qsHTaf9DpQ5KFgp9S-HjxQi0m2yf4TY4JbeFrpXcU/w506-h640/Cecily%20climbs%20Mt%20Tibrogagin.jpg" title="Cecily Fearnley 1925-2022" width="506" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Cecily Fearnley climbing in the Glass House Mountains ca. 1950 (Photo: Fearnley family)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><b style="font-family: helvetica;">Online acknowledgements and tributes to Cecily Fearnley</b><span style="font-family: helvetica;">:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><a href="https://www.eoas.info/biogs/P004771b.htm" target="_blank">Australian <i>Encyclopedia for Science and Innovation</i></a> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><a href="https://noosatoday.com.au/news/21-01-2022/noosa-loses-an-environmental-icon/" target="_blank">Noosa Today</a> </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/noosaparks/posts/vale-cecily-fearnley-noosa-parks-association-sadly-reports-the-loss-of-one-of-it/4775095345915466/" target="_blank">Noosa Parks Association</a> </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>*****</b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">History's forgotten female mountaineers...</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbk2a0RwIGT4FCyMgRqqMzJMSmMetAZCGayP0BZwZo39I5yn_ePEPK8pew2USiUvSEEyLPxEruD7cyKSbwvAsydZSFFguF2flt5UvcJH5cPW60tQyVFxP8skXjUCg-gFzCp5gpeRJ8pCH4rsjz2cmRNoUo8Z2KbYrIQkpu16MzF6kDkAcOM7k/s3233/Title%20page.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3233" data-original-width="1949" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbk2a0RwIGT4FCyMgRqqMzJMSmMetAZCGayP0BZwZo39I5yn_ePEPK8pew2USiUvSEEyLPxEruD7cyKSbwvAsydZSFFguF2flt5UvcJH5cPW60tQyVFxP8skXjUCg-gFzCp5gpeRJ8pCH4rsjz2cmRNoUo8Z2KbYrIQkpu16MzF6kDkAcOM7k/w386-h640/Title%20page.jpg" width="386" /></a></div><br />And while on the topic of women on the heights, I've just finished reading a wonderfully illuminating study by British researcher <a href="https://birkbeck.academia.edu/ClareRoche" target="_blank">Clare Roche</a> on the hidden and largely ignored history of female climbers in the Alps at the end of the 19th century. As I discovered myself in researching the history of rockclimbing in Australia, women played a far more central role here -- particularly in southeast Queensland -- than had previously been acknowledged. It underlines the general sidelining or ignorance of women's achievements across a broad spectrum of society, a process that largely continues today despite the best efforts of some to challenge male dominance. The evidence for this is overwhelming for anyone who cares to look beyond the status quo (largely controlled by men) and this well-written and accessible account of women exploring the Alps is another excellent example. It takes us beyond the endless array of mountaineering publications that largely replicate each other in terms of a lack of acknowledgement of the role played by women in the development of European mountaineering. <div><br />Who knew about the number of first ascents in the Alps by women, on occasion in advance of men? Who has heard of the pioneering female mountaineers who explored the heights at a time when Victorian era women were defined as -- and assumed to be -- 'the weaker sex'? For those with an academic and/or theoretical bent, there is much in this thesis in relation to women's agency and how middle-class Victorian women redefined perceptions of the female body through their engagement with the mountains. The overall historical narrative is uplifting and I highly recommend it to anyone who is interested in this fascinating and under-acknowledged aspect of mountaineering history. <br /><br />Link to a PDF of <a href="https://eprints.bbk.ac.uk/id/eprint/40169/" target="_blank">Dr Clare Roche's thesis </a><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><br /></div>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-14609735314517913512022-03-09T13:57:00.002+10:002022-03-09T13:57:49.067+10:00Vale Bryden Allen<p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Bryden Allen </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>28 February 1940 - 9 February 2022</b></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEioYO7gGvDzyjCjOJascrBssdxvqMNOzHkXYUafDCQN6ewL8mDbW6c4yRahsMHE2vF98K-j4AIMGHhWOpb-38S52nUy61aygH96tqZbT_TEcTbeUUxGVkRHXSE2LAYrCQXxENadYVa5hv_1BteXl8TFnB6eqKEkHMLao0IJmgcJqZGOMOfhZkU=s806" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="526" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEioYO7gGvDzyjCjOJascrBssdxvqMNOzHkXYUafDCQN6ewL8mDbW6c4yRahsMHE2vF98K-j4AIMGHhWOpb-38S52nUy61aygH96tqZbT_TEcTbeUUxGVkRHXSE2LAYrCQXxENadYVa5hv_1BteXl8TFnB6eqKEkHMLao0IJmgcJqZGOMOfhZkU=w418-h640" width="418" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />Bryden Allen climbing Toyland (25) in the Blue Mountains in 1998 at age 58 <br />Photograph: Simon Carter</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Bryden Allen was arguably the foremost figure in postwar Australian rockclimbing, pushing the boundaries on bold new routes throughout the 1960s and 70s that today still demand the highest respect. Despite becoming paraplegic following a fall when approaching a climb at Mt Arapiles in 2000, Bryden maintained his close connection with the Sydney climbing community, often belaying from his wheelchair. One of his regular climbing partners from the early years, Keith Bell, reflects on this giant of Australian rockclimbing culture and on the extraordinary persistence and drive that Bryden refused to let interfere with his life following his accident. Read Keith's tribute to a truly eccentric and inspirational person...<a href="https://www.commonclimber.com/bryden-allen.html" target="_blank">Bryden Allen obituary</a></p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-19626832746885117722022-01-18T17:37:00.004+10:002023-07-28T17:05:06.163+10:00<p style="text-align: center;"><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><span style="font-size: large;">IAN RODERICK MCLEOD MBE</span></b></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">26 July 1931— 12 September 2020 </span></b><span style="font-size: 11px;"><b></b></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">QUIET ACHIEVER - GEOLOGIST AND PIONEER LEADER</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></b></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rkQTpTlNA8dUZhTQzx_3DuPcuKnygOWBKWv8nRbXUsaKC8dFA_msNs3dI-uT33LbeLyNcuIzpCRc_L-hU0PcL_Ncnh6rEWVrWTMHAjIF-Nc6WFLjoTHC93Cu5FzZr9JuIOK6-YwUM87liAg1L6bBVSvc5yFcJkDBYgXDgeip1dOUx9twobE/s1198/image0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="1161" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rkQTpTlNA8dUZhTQzx_3DuPcuKnygOWBKWv8nRbXUsaKC8dFA_msNs3dI-uT33LbeLyNcuIzpCRc_L-hU0PcL_Ncnh6rEWVrWTMHAjIF-Nc6WFLjoTHC93Cu5FzZr9JuIOK6-YwUM87liAg1L6bBVSvc5yFcJkDBYgXDgeip1dOUx9twobE/w194-h200/image0.jpeg" width="194" /></a></div><br /><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Ian McLeod’s first exposure to geology was in 1945 through his spur-of-the-moment decision to choose it as his matriculation elective, rather than geography. Inspired by his geology teacher, and fascinated by the subject, he majored in geology at university and so embarked on a lifelong career in the earth sciences.</p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Ian was born in Rockhampton, Queensland (Qld), in July 1931, and did his primary schooling there and in Brisbane to where his parents moved in 1940. He did his secondary education at Brisbane Grammar (1945—1948), completed his BSc at the University of Queensland (UQ) in 1951 (with distinctions in geology in all three years), his BSc Hons in 1953 (on the geology of the Monsildale district, Qld, with First Class Honours), and his MSc in 1955 (on the geology of the Somerset Dam Igneous Complex, Qld), while working part-time in the Geology Department as a demonstrator and research assistant throughout the years 1953-–1955.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Most significantly, Ian’s experience at UQ was not solely an academic adventure in the exploration of science but was also a time of outdoor adventure exploring the wild mountainous landscapes of southeast and north Qld in company with similarly intrepid members of the University of Queensland Bushwalking Club (UQBWC), including, notably, his geology classmate Jon Stephenson (who had co-founded the Club in April 1950, and of which Ian was President in 1955). Their first major, and truly epic adventure together, with four other Club members, was to the huge granite massif of Mt. Bowen on Hinchinbrook Island in north Qld in early January 1953 (i.e., at precisely the wrong time of the year, being in the middle of the monsoon, but the only time available to them). They were dropped off by boat on the east coast of the island below Mt. Bowen, and in two separate groups of three, with McLeod in one group and Stephenson in the other, they made consecutive (probably the third and fourth) ascents of Mt. Bowen (1,121 m), by very different routes; and, variously, ascents of several of Bowen’s satellite summits, including the first ascents of three of these, one of which was the formidable tower-like pinnacle known as the Thumb (climbed by Stephenson’s group). Amongst the numerous difficulties they encountered during their 11-days on the island were “36 inches” (more than 0.9 m) of rainfall during the last nine days, flooded creeks, and (enabled by a spring tide) “surf [enlivened by floating logs washed down by the Herbert River] rolling a hundred yards into the jungle”, forcing them inland from the coast through “pack-deep mangrove swamps” (wary of crocodiles) and “dense Jungle” in order to reach their arranged contingency pick-up destination (i.e., in the event of bad weather and rough seas) at the south end of the island. These and other wilderness- and contingency-survival experiences and climbing skills gained during their time at UQ stood both Ian and Stephenson in good stead for the even greater adventures and challenges of their subsequent individual fieldwork careers, notably in Antarctica (and in Stephenson’s case, also in the Karakoram and the Sub-Antarctic). </p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 9px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 11px;"><b><br /></b></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 9px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 11px;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6SdU_bKJdiY/ZIF8X_x0f1I/AAAAAAAAB8w/nls50Bw8k045Qs9_wJmMg-LEzLZ4wCP1ACNcBGAsYHQ/s1581/IMG_3856.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1026" data-original-width="1581" height="416" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6SdU_bKJdiY/ZIF8X_x0f1I/AAAAAAAAB8w/nls50Bw8k045Qs9_wJmMg-LEzLZ4wCP1ACNcBGAsYHQ/w640-h416/IMG_3856.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 9px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 11px;">The January 1953 UQBWC Hinchinbrook Island team. From left to right: Geoff Goadby, John Comino, Ian McLeod, Jon Stephenson, David Stewart, and Geoff Broadbent. Photo: John Comino collection, courtesy of Rankin Publishers.</p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 9px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 9px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">In January and February of 1955, during the UQ summer recess, Ian and several other students with geological training from the UQ were employed by the Tasmanian Hydro-Electric Commission (HEC) to map the geology of the Mt. Fincham area (Map Square 3780) of the western Tasmanian wilderness, supported by fortnightly airdrops. This is a rugged and thickly vegetated region centred on the Engineer Range and taking in the Franklin River on the east and the King River and Andrew River valleys on the west. Many years later Ian realised that that work was of relevance to the HEC’s long-term plans to build a dam on the King River, the King—Andrew catchments divide, and possibly the Lower Gordon River.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">In early 1956 Ian joined Reg Sprigg’s company Geosurveys of Australia which (probably through a subsidiary company), jointly with the International Nickel Company of Canada (INCO), was exploring for nickel in the far northwest of South Australia and adjoining region of Western Australia (10 years prior to the subsequent nickel boom). Ian was deployed on this project, focused primarily on locating nickel-bearing layers in the layered mafic—ultramafic Giles Complex, whose impressive but previously little-known rocks, and extensive high-quality exposures, he described as “breathtaking”. This work in Central Australia was undertaken at a time when there were effectively no roads there (except for some rough tracks developed in the 1950s for the Woomera Rocket Range and atomic bomb test-sites at Maralinga), no fences, no topographic maps, and when small groups of indigenous people, still virtually untouched by contact with Europeans, were sporadically encountered pursuing their traditional nomadic lifestyle. The fieldwork was facilitated by specially flown air-photos and almost all travel throughout the region was cross-country. The exploration included the first use of airborne electromagnetics (EM) in Australia (using technology that at that time was still being developed by INCO), with follow-up ground EM and diamond drilling. An extension of this work to the south beyond the Giles Complex to check out some unusual patterns on the air-photos discovered the yet-to-be-identified Officer Basin.</p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><br /></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdOqpWLE1_WaXaTs6gay-65SOSRbSmi4ji8ZQxQ_OLofjdeK1KeGDVWs9daKUP0EvoEsPTDQxP25lze6ru-5amqeePjgKTdWtdRtDvcNrPUFnyPSS8-VhH1a0HcbATHx5dl5sHyYNjwJmr9uuOnotCYb98zdy5HGUIhz3y1rpwPFGhEF__PY/s1500/IMG_4654.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdOqpWLE1_WaXaTs6gay-65SOSRbSmi4ji8ZQxQ_OLofjdeK1KeGDVWs9daKUP0EvoEsPTDQxP25lze6ru-5amqeePjgKTdWtdRtDvcNrPUFnyPSS8-VhH1a0HcbATHx5dl5sHyYNjwJmr9uuOnotCYb98zdy5HGUIhz3y1rpwPFGhEF__PY/w640-h480/IMG_4654.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 9px;">Ian McLeod (centre) on-board the ANARE supply ship </span><i style="font-size: 9px;">Magga Dan</i><span style="font-size: 9px;">, with the Honourable Richard Casey DSO, MC, CH (at right), Minister for External Affairs, farewelling the ship and Phillip Law, Director of the Antarctic Division and Leader of ANARE. Port Melbourne, 5 January 1960. Photo: Australian Antarctic Division archives.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">In late 1957 Ian joined the Bureau of Mineral Resources in Canberra (BMR; now Geoscience Australia) and was initially deployed as a geologist and glaciologist in a cooperative program between the BMR and the Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions (ANARE; now the Australian Antarctic Division) to work in East Antarctica for a year, based at Mawson Station. He arrived at Mawson on the annual supply ship <i>Thala Dan</i> on 10<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> February 1958, having undertaken reconnaissance geology along the coast of East Antarctica en route at Lewis Island (Wilkes Coast) and in the Larsemann Hills near Davis Station (Ingrid Christensen Coast). But the ship spent little or no time at Mawson and took expedition leader Phillip Law, Ian, and fellow geologist (and 1957 over-winterer) Bruce Stinear on a reconnaissance trip for the rest of the month to Amundsen Bay ca. 565 km west of Mawson but had difficulties making landings. </p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Upon the ship’s return to Mawson Ian was involved with unloading operations and familiarising himself with the Base and its surrounds, and throughout March and April, together with four others, he undertook glaciological fieldwork inland from Mawson based in a sledge-mounted caravan. This involved conducting a seismic traverse across the ice-flow direction to determine ice thickness, measuring movement rates, and gathering other glaciological data. In the mid-1950s, such glaciological work on the Antarctic icesheet was still at its infancy but was also being conducted concurrently and in the prior year on the opposite side of the continent by the Commonwealth Trans-Antarctic Expedition (1957—1958) in which Ian’s former UQ geologist class-mate, Jon Stephenson played a major scientific role, </p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Wintering over at Mawson was a busy time for everyone, including Ian. In addition to compiling, plotting, and analysing field data and writing reports, and conducting daily measurements of snow ablation rates, sea-ice thickness, doing occasional penguin counts in the local rookery, etc., numerous other camp-duties had to be done on a regular basis, including hut ‘slushie’ duties (daily roster) and camp slushie duties (weekly roster). These duties were very numerous, and included janitorial work comprising general cleaning of the accommodation huts and communal facilities, replenishing the snow and coal supplies to the huts and kitchen, human waste disposal from the huts and communal toilets, and waste disposal from kitchen, mess room, and camp generally, plus nightwatchman duties. But in Ian’s and his surveyor colleague, Graham Knuckey’s, case, they also involved planning and preparation for a major dog-sledge expedition to be undertaken in the coming summer, involving two sledges and two dog teams to be driven by them, and the responsibility of looking after the sledge dogs who would make it possible. This demanded much time and effort throughout the winter and spring and involved finding and fetching the dogs’ food (i.e., sealing), feeding them, exercising and training them, cleaning their tether lines, and combing their coats to remove accumulated ice. </p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5tNdk3_8ZtRf77nMbBU4RDbV5ZqndEvlt9GdMY26EdKA7ZIU6jhoKzUPNaJjNnEfVtidNEMar9J9FNo0Qk3Je1af6T5uxRS_kvQca9N2BYUUwE7ffT3hLspd2fxMhVfzpVwKMCf5m0kveVtLYau_6_U6_ov1tIxd4haM1n5zRgtCgFj2cOjY/s936/Ian%20McLeod%20with%20sled%20dog%20Lewis%20in%201958.%20Picture%20Geoscience%20Australia.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="643" data-original-width="936" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5tNdk3_8ZtRf77nMbBU4RDbV5ZqndEvlt9GdMY26EdKA7ZIU6jhoKzUPNaJjNnEfVtidNEMar9J9FNo0Qk3Je1af6T5uxRS_kvQca9N2BYUUwE7ffT3hLspd2fxMhVfzpVwKMCf5m0kveVtLYau_6_U6_ov1tIxd4haM1n5zRgtCgFj2cOjY/w640-h440/Ian%20McLeod%20with%20sled%20dog%20Lewis%20in%201958.%20Picture%20Geoscience%20Australia.png" width="640" /></a></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 9px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />Ian McLeod with sledge dog Lewis, Enderby Land, Antarctica, December 1958. Photo: Geoscience Australia archives.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"> </p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">On 27th September Ian flew to Beaver Lake in the Prince Charles Mountains to investigate establishing a base there from which air-supported reconnaissance mapping and glaciological fieldwork could be conducted, and spent time there again from mid October until early November establishing a camp and undertaking preliminary fieldwork.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The dog sledging journey commenced on 27<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th </sup></span>November when the last of the dogs were flown to its starting point. The two Beaver aircraft based at Mawson had been used during the previous days to lay two intermediate depots of supplies on areas of exposed rock along the planned route from Amundsen Bay back to Mawson, and to transport the men (including the third member of the expedition, radio operator Peter King), dogs, equipment, and food to Amundsen Bay, landing on the sea-ice offshore of and below the terminal escarpment of the continental icesheet, the ascent of which constituted the first obstacle of their journey.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The geology of the hinterland region south and west of Mawson (Mac.Robertson Land, Kemp Land, and Enderby Land) was almost unknown in 1958 (and much of it unknown geographically too). It includes the Prince Charles Mountains and isolated massifs and nunataks stretching from 300 to 800 km south of Mawson and has one of the highest proportions of exposed rock of any region of the continent. Consequently, the sledging expedition from Amundsen Bay back to Mawson constituted a pioneering reconnaissance mapping exercise through a region of virtually unknown topography and geology aided by very limited (oblique) air-photos. The expedition arrived back at Mawson on 21<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>st</sup></span> January 1959, 54 days after it started, and having covered 650 km. Ian departed Mawson for Australia on the annual supply ship a few weeks later but managed to collect water samples and sediment samples from the hypersaline lakes in the Vestfold Hills near Davis Base when the ship visited there on 17<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> February, the analyses of which, together with fieldwork he and others did in subsequent years, established the stranded (negative eustatic) origin of these lakes.</p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcENvOGtPPJm8tkTcjT6ZyKCdBCAnCf_3EWQUw63me7RdCP7hTMIZkRWZYpWmkevv9y1zKhpzuABxWpVjJzoSpv0Q3ymVefJ9WGcIoCnLdDkbjoCsOqFtrYCqUO6JBVzOA0wW7Cr0-TlhRmUkYfeR-9ylr3xV4gvRVY3DNlBb_PfTnaWq41w/s1400/Geologist%20Ian%20McLeod%20in%20Antyarctica%20in%201958.%20Picture%20Graham%20Knuckey.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1202" data-original-width="1400" height="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcENvOGtPPJm8tkTcjT6ZyKCdBCAnCf_3EWQUw63me7RdCP7hTMIZkRWZYpWmkevv9y1zKhpzuABxWpVjJzoSpv0Q3ymVefJ9WGcIoCnLdDkbjoCsOqFtrYCqUO6JBVzOA0wW7Cr0-TlhRmUkYfeR-9ylr3xV4gvRVY3DNlBb_PfTnaWq41w/w640-h550/Geologist%20Ian%20McLeod%20in%20Antyarctica%20in%201958.%20Picture%20Graham%20Knuckey.png" width="640" /></a></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 9px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Ian McLeod in the field, Enderby Land, Antarctica, December 1958. Photo: Graham Knuckey collection.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Back in Australia at the BMR, chance again influenced the course of Ian’s career soon after completing reports on his Antarctic work because he was moved into the Mineral Resources Section to replace a recently vacated position, retaining however, until 1971, his major involvement with the Antarctic work, including responsibility for planning and executing ANARE’s annual geological mapping programs, and liaising and coordinating this work with that of other countries.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">A few years after Ian’s first 12-month sojourn in Antarctica in 1958–59, the BMR restricted the annual summer program to just three months duration including travel time. He returned to Antarctica five times for summer fieldwork, firstly in early 1960 when he was instrumental in personally rescuing under very difficult conditions the injured pilot and passenger of a crashed helicopter, perched precariously on the 25<span style="font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;">°</span>-sloping lip of the continental icesheet, just 30 m inboard of its 30-m-high cliff-edge on the coast west of Wilkes Base (now Casey Station). The summer of 1959–60 was the first field season helicopters were used by ANARE in Antarctica, and in both 1960 and 1961 they were used for ship-based exploration along the coast in conjunction with the annual station relief voyages. In early 1965 the relief ship was positioned 250 km west of Mawson and used as a base for survey work and geological mapping inland from the coast using helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft operating from the sea-ice. Ian participated in this work and again in early 1969, using a temporary field base at the head of Prydz Bay between Mawson and Davis. On his last trip to Antarctica in early 1970 he operated from a temporary base 250 km south of Mawson to work in the vast Prince Charles Mountains, a region in which he had first undertaken fieldwork during the spring of 1958 while based at Mawson. </p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Ian was awarded the Polar Medal by Queen Elizabeth in 1961. He was the Australian member of the Working Group on Geology of the Scientific Committee on Antarctic Research (SCAR) from 1964 to 1978 and served as its secretary in the period 1973–78. He was made a Member of the Order of the British Empire (MBE) in 1966 for his Antarctic work; and in 1970 he received a Bellingshausen Medal from the Soviet Academy of Science.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Ian’s initial work in the Mineral Resources Section of the BMR, together with other section members, was focused on producing a summary compilation of Australian mineral deposits, together with a second edition<span style="color: #fc2713;"> </span>of the <i>Mineral Deposits</i> map of the <i>Atlas of Australian Resources</i>, <i>Second Series, </i>(published in 1965, with subsequent impressions in 1967, 1969, and 1970). The summary compilation, <i>BMR Bulletin 72 </i>— <i>The Australian Mineral Industry: The Mineral Deposits</i>, was published in 1965, just prior of the late-1960s and early-1970s mineral-exploration boom and is one of the few BMR bulletins who’s demand justified a second printing. Ian then supervised the compilation of the <i>Metallogenic Map of Australia and Papua New Guinea (1972</i>), this being the Australian contribution to the International Union of Geological Sciences’ <i>Metallogenic Map of the World</i>.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The frenzy of the late-1960s<span style="font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;">–</span>early-1970s mineral-exploration boom escalated Industry demand for information on mineral resources (together with some free lunches for Ian and other BMR staff), prompting Ian to develop an interest in methodologies for storing and retrieving geological information. This interest resulted in him moving in 1970 to the BMR’s Information Section, responsible for the public provision of information about the Organisation’s activities and geoscience in general. His initial task there was to prepare a brief for a consultative study into the needs of a BMR-wide information storage-and-retrieval system. This was at a time when computing technology involved only mainframe systems, punch-card input and continuous-feed line-printers. However, given the way that computing technology evolved in the subsequent decades, and with the benefit of hindsight, it is fortunate that this project did not proceed.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Ian’s greatest contribution to Australia’s growth as a nation came when he was appointed Head of the BMR’s Mineral Economics Section in 1974. This Section was responsible for the compilation, analysis, and publication of information on Australia’s mineral assets, and for the provision of expert advice to both government and Industry. Its work was critical to the development of Australia’s mineral resources and to the policy and regulatory framework that the mining industry operates within today. As well as leading the Section, Ian was the commodity specialist for tin.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Ian’s role in the BMR continued to evolve, and by 1985 he was responsible for the coordination and broad supervision of the groups within the wider Mineral Resources Branch which undertook special studies of the industry and gave high-level technical assistance to senior BMR management. These specialist studies included the compilation and analysis of mineral commodities and resources, the development of related databases, and the publication and provision of information to Industry and the public.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Although Ian retired at the end of 1990, his extensive knowledge of Australia’s mineral resources continued to be in demand and for a time he worked as a consultant to the BMR and to the German Federal Institute for Geosciences and Natural Resources before finally devoting himself to various other new and life-long interests. The life-long interests including bushwalking, cross-country skiing, and the enduring conservation of the Canberra Alpine Club’s (CAC) heritage-listed Mt. Franklin Ski Lodge in the Brindabella Range. Ian and his wife Beverley had been members of the club since first moving to Canberra, and Ian was elected an honorary life-member in 1997 for his service and dedication to the club and its management. (The ski lodge was subsequently destroyed in the 2003 bushfires and was replaced by a large corrugated-iron interpretative shelter with a locked room accessible to ACT Parkes and Conservation, SES, Fire Service and the CAC, to serve as a base for future emergencies. In his capacity of “Franklin Officer” of the CAC, Ian was responsible for organising assistance by Club members in the building of the new shelter.)<span style="color: #cf3b05;"> </span>Ian’s role as an Officer of the Club brought him in close contact with ACT Parkes and Conservation, and his knowledge of the Brindabella Mountains was legendary, combining his love for geology, the bush, and the solace of the wilderness.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">One of Ian’s new activities in retirement was that of ‘volunteer explainer’ at Questacon in the National Science Centre in Canberra, where he always delighted in helping classes of students visiting from all parts of Australia solve and understand its puzzling exhibits and demonstrations. He continued this work for many years and earned the status of Emeritus Volunteer. A later interest that started in 2016 was his participation in a collaborative project between the Geoscience Australia Library and the Antarctic Geoscience team to scan and transcribe the library’s legacy collection of Antarctic geological field-notebooks in order to make them discoverable and accessible for open online access. This exercise involved 57 citizen-scientist volunteers over five-and-a-half months, followed by validation of the transcriptions by retired geologist Ian Barwell. A series of short films featuring interviews with the original geologists who bring the content of the notebooks to life through reminiscences of their work in Antarctica accompany the transcribed notebooks (see: <a href="https://ecat.ga.gov.au/geonetwork/srv/eng/search">https://ecat.ga.gov.au/geonetwork/srv/eng/search</a>).</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Ian’s career spanned an exciting period in the nation’s history and in the exploration of Antarctica. The exploration of Antarctica was still at an early stage in the 1950s and 1960s, and the minerals industry in Australia grew from being a minor player to becoming a major part of the economy during those and subsequent decades. He had the satisfaction of knowing his work met a need, and that he had opportunities to work in places that were little known both geologically and geographically. In addition to his membership of the Working Group on Geology of SCAR throughout the 1960s and 1970s (and its secretary from 1973 to 1978), Ian was also a member of several other committees concerned with Antarctica and the mineral industry, including the Australian National Committee on Antarctic Research, and the International Strategic Minerals Inventory Working Group. He was also a Foundation (and lifelong) Member of the Geological Society of Australia.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Following ANARE’s practice of recommending to the Antarctic Names Committee of Australia that geographic (and cryogenic) features in Antarctica be named after participants in its expeditions, four features bear Ian’s name there:</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">McLeod Massif: A large rock exposure in the Aramis Range, Prince Charles Mountains, Mac.Robertson Land. First identified and plotted from air photographs and first visited by ANARE surveys organised by geologist-in-charge of field operations, Ian McLeod, in 1969 and 1970<span style="color: #fc5308;">.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">McLeod Nunataks: Located in Enderby Land; identified in oblique aerial photographs taken by ANARE in 1956; first visited in December 1958 by dog-sled party (involving Ian).</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">McLeod Glacier: In Oates Land; Descends from the Wilson Hills into Davies Bay. Ian was the leader of the airborne field party who explored the area in 1961 from the supply ship <i>Magga Dan</i>.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">McLeod Island: A large island 2 km north of Stornes Peninsula in Prydz Bay. Ian was in the ANARE team who surveyed the region in February 1958.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Ian is remembered as an absolute gentleman and a quiet achiever, always ready to lend a hand, and someone who got things done. His welcoming smile left a lasting impression on everyone he met, and he will long be remembered by his former BMR colleagues at their monthly lunches at the Yowani Golf Club.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b>Patrick Conaghan and Malcolm Robertson</b></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">(May 2022; updated July 2023)</p>
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<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG4guvp3CASvPTMkyo4uAzAm3t4lKqKdYf9spkt0omczmVcqF93iZfGUB9ltzukZVEWIoVbX_xQMygFuv6KUBCDPZkQA2dF9GvFv1mosO8R4z_fW2FVA0iIgBfcb1AOxATQ9BhEDvA5ReEjwljKg213juk-v-OGOowBwYgZ0j9_t7Ujgu7Ubo/s934/image1.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="934" data-original-width="862" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG4guvp3CASvPTMkyo4uAzAm3t4lKqKdYf9spkt0omczmVcqF93iZfGUB9ltzukZVEWIoVbX_xQMygFuv6KUBCDPZkQA2dF9GvFv1mosO8R4z_fW2FVA0iIgBfcb1AOxATQ9BhEDvA5ReEjwljKg213juk-v-OGOowBwYgZ0j9_t7Ujgu7Ubo/s320/image1.jpeg" width="295" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Ian McLeod in retirement (<i>ca</i> 2013). Photo: Beverley McLeod.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b>Endnotes:</b></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">This tribute and profile is based primarily on source materials supplied to the authors by Beverley McLeod, including a short biography of his professional career written by Ian McLeod dated June 2007, entries from some of Ian’s Antarctic diaries and the two portrait photos of Ian herein. Additional materials and information were supplied by former ANARE scientist Grahame Budd, and Ian’s UQ contemporaries Kevin McDonnell, and Tom Brown. Details of the 1953 UQBWC expedition to Hinchinbrook Island (including some quotations from which are used herein) are sourced from primary accounts of the trip by John Comino (1959) and Geoff Broadbent (1964), and from Rankin, R. (2002): <i>Beyond the Horizon, </i>Rankin Publishers, Sumner Park, Qld, pp. 137—142, (which provides bibliographic details of all published primary accounts of the trip on p. 203). McLeod’s dog-sledging expedition in the austral summer of 1958—59 is described in: McLeod, I. (1965): Sledging Journey — Amundsen Bay to Mawson, Antarctica. <i>UQBWC</i> <i>Magazine</i>, vol. 7, p. 37– 43 (<a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1AkZ7lx23MXnv7mAToy25BH0Iw5uIOoi6/view?usp=sharing"><span style="color: blue;">https://drive.google.com/file/d/1AkZ7lx23MXnv7mAToy25BH0Iw5uIOoi6/view?usp=sharing</span></a>). Accounts of the 13th February 1960 helicopter crash in Antarctica and the rescue of its occupants by Ian are documented as follows: McLeod, I.R. (18/2/1960): Accident to VH-THC, Official report to ANARE (three pages, including the official Press Release to media by Phillip Law dated Saturday 13th [February], but date of accident mistakenly given as 16th February in McLeod’s report (<a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1aBYkcR9a5JKyExnM9xc5sMe2mlHpJVeX/view?usp=sharing"><span style="color: blue;">https://drive.google.com/file/d/1aBYkcR9a5JKyExnM9xc5sMe2mlHpJVeX/view?usp=sharing</span></a>); Hudson, R.T. (1983): Antarctic Helicopter Accident. <i>Aircraft</i>. December 1983, p. 40–42 (<a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1G-vmkFi3heMKE_hE_qP_xkEgN4rgvDie/view?usp=sharing"><span style="color: blue;">https://drive.google.com/file/d/1G-vmkFi3heMKE_hE_qP_xkEgN4rgvDie/view?usp=sharing</span></a>); Grahame Budd’s (30.05.2011) unpublished retelling of the accident</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">(<a href="http://climbinghistoryoz.blogspot.com/2022/01/a-bad-day-at-office-summed-up-by-four.html"><span style="color: blue;">http://climbinghistoryoz.blogspot.com/2022/01/a-bad-day-at-office-summed-up-by-four.html</span></a>) is a facsimile version (but with colour photos added) of David Cook’s 2009 article “A Bad Day at the Office”, (<i>Aurora</i>. June 2009, p. 21–22), but of a reformatted and slightly abridged (by David Cook, in December 1999) unpublished version of the 2009 <i>Aurora </i>article in which the last two paragraphs were omitted and a postscript added. Details of the Geoscience Australia Library project to transcribe the Antarctic geology field-notebooks are sourced from: Black, J., and Carson, C. (2018): Transcribing Antarctic geological History. <i>Australian Antarctic Magazine</i>, Issue 34. In a three-part interview with medical doctor and Antarctic expeditioner Ingrid McGaughey (recorded in Canberra in June 2011), Ian recounts many details of his geological career, and with a particular focus on his work in Antarctica, This interview can be accessed at:</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: blue; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a href="https://amplify.gov.au/transcripts/statelibrarynsw/antarctic_expeditions//Antarctic_IanM">https://amplify.gov.au/transcripts/statelibrarynsw/antarctic_expeditions//Antarctic_IanM<span style="color: blue;"></span></a></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The authors thank Michael Meadows of Living Rock Press, Qld, for posting the source articles mentioned above variously on the web and on his blog (Climbing History Oz) and for creating the hyperlinks thereto.</p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-36332206861236514612022-01-17T16:56:00.003+10:002022-04-25T16:02:41.159+10:00<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">A Bad Day at the Office </span></b></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Summed up by four memorable quotes</span></b></p><div><br /></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">By David Cook, December 1999</span></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEinOa9wX8hJCwwmvsl_HmTzy_WMSoXYx4a9gExblqQSm1wcvsV-1siIEA02vWl0w2j8FBiVfXNoTkfr2SUXPiXi6m5yQGKXswAS96Yowj6fLYgQ2EjNPhKrYAlxRmBHjHw61uLZQKtIElXIBsqbaSYj6Rixko7VKcLcXU5OaBCW_Mjs64UumCI=s1129" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="1129" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEinOa9wX8hJCwwmvsl_HmTzy_WMSoXYx4a9gExblqQSm1wcvsV-1siIEA02vWl0w2j8FBiVfXNoTkfr2SUXPiXi6m5yQGKXswAS96Yowj6fLYgQ2EjNPhKrYAlxRmBHjHw61uLZQKtIElXIBsqbaSYj6Rixko7VKcLcXU5OaBCW_Mjs64UumCI=w640-h422" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Pilot Peter Ivanoff inches his way up a steep ice slope above his crashed helicopter.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Antarctica, February 1960. </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> Picture: David Cook</span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Some fifty years ago my job was trying to map the coast of Antarctica, where the maps current at the time had long sections of blank paper, filled in perhaps with a cartographic draftsman’s best estimate of where the coastline might be, in an average season. The coast, that is the edge of the water, shifts of course, seaward 30 to 80 miles in winter, retreating to glacial ice cliffs or outcropping rocks in the summer. Therefore the object of the exercise was to fix the positions of rock outcrops, about the only identifiable features which remain stationary and can be used to control the air photography from which the maps are drawn. This was achieved using star observations in daylight, as required in the Antarctic summer, a rather drawn out exercise in those pre GPS, pre computer days; only about ten stars are visible in daylight with a theodolite. Even mechanical calculators were useless in the field as they stiffened up in the cold and refused to turn. It was all logarithms, altitude-azimuth tables and bits of paper, while sitting on cold rock; not good for the haemorrhoids.</span></p>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The transport for this exercise was two Hiller 12E helicopters, the first Australian helicopters in the Antarctic. They were three place, the pilot in the middle, straddling the instrument pedestal, passenger on one side, heaps of equipment on the other, and no shoulder harness, of which more later. They cruised straight and level at 50 knots with the little engine turning over, from memory, at about 3000 rpm, working fairly hard; the whole thing vibrated noticeably. To this newly qualified Private Pilot the salient feature was the carburettor heat control. Approaching to land on a dicky stretch of sloping ice or the chopper pad on a rolling ship, with quick power and pitch variations required, the pilot had to spend an inordinate amount of time shoving the carby heat lever back and forth to keep the temperature in the safe range. Each change in collective pitch also required a change in manifold pressure to maintain the rotor revs, the automatic coupling of pitch and power not being around in those days. You don’t have any spare hands, or feet, when flying a chopper; the pilot was a busy man.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">So we set off from Wilkes, now Casey, one sunny day, 60 miles south west along the coast, geologist Ian McLeod and pilot Ray Hudson in one chopper, surveyor, yours truly, and pilot Peter Ivanoff in the other. They always flew as a pair, for safety. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">About 30 miles out we crossed a glacier, ten miles wide, sloping down to the coast and fast flowing, as evidenced by the heavily crevassed surface, with wide gaps starting blue and becoming black as they went down to huge depths. No chance of any successful forced landings here. From the pilot:</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Quote no. 1: ‘These things always go into automatic rough in places like this.’</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A little further out we landed at a fuel dump in a clear gently sloping area where the surface wind was about 25 to 30 knots and then went on to the destination, a small stony beach, now Ivanoff Head, nestling at the base of a long steep ice slope stretching many miles inland. Both being new to Antarctic flying neither the pilot nor I knew much about katabatic winds, the convective flow down any slope which blows every day when there is not a blizzard to change its course. It reaches a maximum about 11 am or so, the steeper the slope and the nearer the ground the stronger the wind. At Mawson, located at the seaward end of a long gentle slope, it attains about 20 to 30 knots on an ordinary summer’s day. In winter it gets really windy. Today, many miles to the east and at 3000 feet, it seemed like a nice day.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">On approach to the beach the usual air speed of 30 to 40 knots did not seem to be getting us anywhere. More power, steeper descent – I remember noticing 74 knots and we were going backwards. From the pilot: Quote no.2: ‘We had better get out of here’.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A left turn, downwind out over the foam streaked sea, seemed not an attractive option. Theories like ‘Keep the airspeed constant and you don’t sink’ seem irrelevant when you are going backwards. So we turned right, trying to climb along the steep slope with full power and full pitch, but the wind, rushing downhill, over a 100 foot ice cliff and onto the sea made it impossible.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">From the pilot: Quote no. 3:’ Hang on Dave’. This seemed, retrospectively, to be an understatement.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He rolled the aircraft onto its side and flew it hard onto the surface. The undercarriage skids broke off and the cross members stuck solidly into the ice, as he had intended. The rotor blades broke off and the engine, still at full throttle, screamed its head off. Eventually the pilot, dazed from smashing his face against the instrument panel (no shoulder harness, no crash helmet) reached out and cut the ignition. To say everything became deathly quiet would be inaccurate but at least we could shout over the noise of the wind.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The next step was to climb out onto the steep slope, slippery like a fresh frozen ice cube, and attempt to stand up in the 50 knots plus wind. With no crampons for the boots and only a roll of rope and one ice axe between us there was only one way out and that was up, away from the menacing cliff top where most of our externally loaded gear had already slid over and disappeared into the sea.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The method was for me to laboriously climb up, cutting one step at a time, to the limit of the rope, and there cut two steps for myself and two for the pilot. Then he would pull himself up along the rope, lying prone on the ice to cope with the effects of the head blow and loss of vision due to blood, and eventually sit in his set of heel holds while I set off on the next rope length. The theory was that if I started to slide he would gather in the loose rope as I went past and hang on; life is full of untested theories.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">On one of these stages I photographed him heaving himself upwards. When he reached me he said (</span><span style="font-family: arial;">Quote no. 4): ‘Bloody funny time to be taking photos’.</span></div><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwH_kGIg2Rujyr6RFLypUn5RtZsvKPKEq1IaoXj6uF-SyJG_j4vLXfT0hWJF8ltrcUzqfyWj2KCSkTH2CRPB6enkf_KWnhMp05_muF0_lyWnYzNXHDolJmlE1FZEBaDsdSNeGgN1OXHRA-TVfaNnnPjROMMXMr7e7mu8mujlOBRENLYTwaIvI=s553" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="380" data-original-width="553" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwH_kGIg2Rujyr6RFLypUn5RtZsvKPKEq1IaoXj6uF-SyJG_j4vLXfT0hWJF8ltrcUzqfyWj2KCSkTH2CRPB6enkf_KWnhMp05_muF0_lyWnYzNXHDolJmlE1FZEBaDsdSNeGgN1OXHRA-TVfaNnnPjROMMXMr7e7mu8mujlOBRENLYTwaIvI=w640-h440" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Peter Ivanoff on the steep ice slope above his crashed helicopter. Picture: David Cook</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ray, the second pilot, having stayed at a safe height and observed all the events related above, radioed the ship and then pulled off a magnificent landing on the nearby peninsula, far enough from the beach to at least have the wind blowing more or less horizontally but still in violent turbulence. This was achieved, on about the fourth attempt and in wind which exceeded the forward speed of the helicopter, by having Ian, the geologist, peer backwards out of the open door calling ‘left a bit, right a bit, down’ while they backed precariously into a penguin rookery, slid sideways into the partial shelter of a large rock and put down in 15 inches of penguin droppings. The rotor brake was ineffective and it was 15 minutes before the pilot felt able to release the controls and jump out to try and stop the flailing rotor by gripping the tail rotor drive shaft with gloved hands.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZpigWQS21keNrpPr6IVmbannSJniLnjh1Ep49Y-37TxemoHaUmp9uXd-Mfrxxrb1Gu5b2lOAzdsOkydBGcLumgQYXzTTTZPJPj-rKFedZm0-A8Weh6C0XQDR8Nv1JaUR5CxEzHK1unLYocZ-vyRt4M0HW1g2ICLKPQUz0FfphEHKbrklxfbw=s810" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="510" data-original-width="810" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZpigWQS21keNrpPr6IVmbannSJniLnjh1Ep49Y-37TxemoHaUmp9uXd-Mfrxxrb1Gu5b2lOAzdsOkydBGcLumgQYXzTTTZPJPj-rKFedZm0-A8Weh6C0XQDR8Nv1JaUR5CxEzHK1unLYocZ-vyRt4M0HW1g2ICLKPQUz0FfphEHKbrklxfbw=w640-h402" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span>Peter Ivanoff (left) and David Cook following the crash. Picture: David Cook</span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Meanwhile Ian, the knight in shining armour in all this as far as the pilot and I were concerned, set off, also working without crampons and with no safety rope, and nothing to attach it to anyway, to cut steps for about half a mile along the steep, wind swept ice slope to meet two tired and grateful people coming the other way. When we reached the beach, our original destination, Ray, the second pilot, had a tent erected and a welcome hot brew made.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There must be some obvious lessons to be learnt from this exercise. Maybe one less obvious would be to always wear a life jacket when flying near the sea, regardless of whether you intend to actually fly over it, much less fall into it.</span></div><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizhCNp1N2NtpOJsbrtbxiru8yEAsQ48gJFpKMacvGB_Lo6HM9vNBfLzEuy9wo5oa8FLSGN737XUzSbg3fGTPIG8RQjLPiZ5WACAE6R9XZcW0L74xVIoyER1L-1bs_k3i0f_B06Qw63ruFM9BNiCB3hLTFkex0FLPf3lDGtrQFII4RxqPSNyHg=s1132" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="745" data-original-width="1132" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizhCNp1N2NtpOJsbrtbxiru8yEAsQ48gJFpKMacvGB_Lo6HM9vNBfLzEuy9wo5oa8FLSGN737XUzSbg3fGTPIG8RQjLPiZ5WACAE6R9XZcW0L74xVIoyER1L-1bs_k3i0f_B06Qw63ruFM9BNiCB3hLTFkex0FLPf3lDGtrQFII4RxqPSNyHg=w640-h422" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span>The crashed helicopter above the ice cliffs and the ice slopes traversed by Ian McLeod, David Cook and Peter Ivanoff to reach the rocks in the foreground. Picture: David Cook</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsE_JLIReEzWuA6oaxAXHdGYUh4VXn1yKRHYxVW1DsT7XJ4r5Yhy8uiCERomupHeUtHcT3dmlc1_-TshL-mEemhABMcp7FpsWrWL8XRKHzLvur7ymkYea-fpxWSwenNIuIW-QOtMJAaxS9EhBrnu4KooLKKriXFjCs2bs8vtjfRSfgpDIoU4U=s1132" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="686" data-original-width="1132" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsE_JLIReEzWuA6oaxAXHdGYUh4VXn1yKRHYxVW1DsT7XJ4r5Yhy8uiCERomupHeUtHcT3dmlc1_-TshL-mEemhABMcp7FpsWrWL8XRKHzLvur7ymkYea-fpxWSwenNIuIW-QOtMJAaxS9EhBrnu4KooLKKriXFjCs2bs8vtjfRSfgpDIoU4U=w640-h388" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span>Time for a tot of Akvavit! (from left) Ian McLeod, Ray Hudson, Peter Ivanoff and David Cook. Picture: David Cook</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>
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<div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Postscript</b>: There was a story, which I cannot vouch for, that, a year or two later, an Australian De Havilland Beaver, equipped with floats, was operating about 100 miles inland. The engine developed carby ice, almost unheard of in the Antarctic with temperatures way below freezing. They managed to keep the engine going by fiddling with the priming pump and, losing height, half gliding, half flying they just made it to the coast. They scraped over the cliffs, put it down safely on the water, looked out the window and there was the wreck of the Hiller, still plastered on the ice like a fly on the wall. The carby ice cleared itself and they flew home to Mawson, no doubt wondering how, in a continent two and a half times the size of Australia, such things might happen.<br /><br /><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Pictures compiled by Grahame Budd</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><i><b>Editorial note: </b>The accident occurred on Saturday, 13 February 1960.</i><br /><br /><b>References</b> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Cook, David, 'A Bad Day at the Office', <i><a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1R2JLYo3St9u-KV269797hStXd6SsqKyR/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">Aurora Magazine</a></i>, June 2009, pp. 21-22.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Hudson, Ray T., 'Antarctic Helicopter Accident', <i><a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1G-vmkFi3heMKE_hE_qP_xkEgN4rgvDie/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">AIRCRAFT</a></i>, December 1983, pp. 40-42.</span></div>
Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-14712462728060585172022-01-17T16:02:00.001+10:002023-07-25T14:01:08.050+10:00Vale Ian McLeod 1931-2020<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: xx-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifU6dZ8jBgiqRPZMZ98sMCB10iBJLTEVBfHFi3tfbrQuzvSbWHFOX1BcDuXUb7jSFtFbVvazO8WBxAvVjoFDO3_7xOY4UD7PxMMyt3tTRC7FkXlK_LBEqIHBtfNcx6hyuKk96PP-YOpIinBqLMtoF29KSyEhbouNKUiOiMUXDAA6pG_9-dG1E=s1400" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1202" data-original-width="1400" height="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifU6dZ8jBgiqRPZMZ98sMCB10iBJLTEVBfHFi3tfbrQuzvSbWHFOX1BcDuXUb7jSFtFbVvazO8WBxAvVjoFDO3_7xOY4UD7PxMMyt3tTRC7FkXlK_LBEqIHBtfNcx6hyuKk96PP-YOpIinBqLMtoF29KSyEhbouNKUiOiMUXDAA6pG_9-dG1E=w640-h550" width="640" /></a></div><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: xx-large; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span>Geologist Ian McLeod in Antarctica in 1958. Picture: Graham Knuckey</span></p><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>Ian McLeod: </span><span>Courage in the frozen wilderness</span></span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>By Malcolm Robertson</i></span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Chipping steps to traverse the icy slope of an Antarctic glacier only metres away from a sheer precipice takes both courage and skill. To do it on your own, still aged in your twenties, to reach two injured colleagues, survivors of a nasty helicopter crash, takes a special sort of person. Geologist Ian McLeod, who has died aged 89, was certainly that. In February 1960, in appalling windy conditions, his mountaineering experience and gritty geologist's determination ensured that he and his injured friends, all members of the Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions (ANARE) summer party to Wilkes base that year, made it safely back.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><blockquote style="border: medium; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;">The dogs all had different characters - loafers, humourists, workers, you name it - and they could be a handful at times, but I found it the best way to travel and to really see the country</p></blockquote><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><blockquote style="border: medium; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;">-- Ian McLeod describing dogsledding in Antarctica</p></blockquote><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">In 1960, McLeod was no stranger to Antarctica and the vagaries of its weather conditions that had led to the helicopter incident. He had joined the Australian Government's Bureau of Mineral Resources (BMR, now Geoscience Australia) to over-winter at Mawson base in 1958 as glaciologist and geologist. In that year, he had earned the respect of his colleagues with a 650km traverse across Kemp and Enderby Lands in the hinterland behind Mawson base in the company of a surveyor and radio operator using a dog sledging team for transport, a feat little different to the pioneering traverses by Sir Douglas Mawson in the early years of the twentieth century.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">To quote Ian: "During the traverse, the surveyor nominated the spot at each rock outcrop for a fix, and while he was doing that, I would do some basic geological observations. We used hickory wood sledges fastened with rawhide. There were no nails or rivets in the frame so the whole construction was flexible. The dogs all had different characters - loafers, humourists, workers, you name it - and they could be a handful at times, but I found it the best way to travel and to really see the country.”</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Helping to recover his injured colleagues in 1960 drew on all his previous Antarctic experience, his mountaineering skills and his inner resolve and strength.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPIQb3PhcVkE88ShS-Dmdoe45MJiJCy86R_ovE-fo2S4TBU4RMNiLzWsmtWPuIYwMMHWXp6b-7mqI2_-1K99eP_feRLzAA0Y8o2Du_bMM3Fw2OyV0-J0UAA6NBl8wQmuKrlv_kecyH5X9cud8EdNiSRFjWGmOLZgIJCbkHuuTZz4D55L0Ia2k=s1800" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1237" data-original-width="1800" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPIQb3PhcVkE88ShS-Dmdoe45MJiJCy86R_ovE-fo2S4TBU4RMNiLzWsmtWPuIYwMMHWXp6b-7mqI2_-1K99eP_feRLzAA0Y8o2Du_bMM3Fw2OyV0-J0UAA6NBl8wQmuKrlv_kecyH5X9cud8EdNiSRFjWGmOLZgIJCbkHuuTZz4D55L0Ia2k=w640-h440" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Ian McLeod with sled dog Lewis in 1958. Picture: Geoscience Australia</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">McLeod was born in Rockhampton on 26 July 1931, the eldest of three children born to parents Roy and Edith McLeod. Roy McLeod was a qualified accountant working with Vacuum Oil Company which later became Mobil. The family moved to Brisbane in 1940 and Ian finished his primary schooling at Taringa State School before moving to Brisbane Grammar School for his secondary education. He chose to study geology for his matriculation, a subject he soon found fascinating and absorbing.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">McLeod went on to the University of Queensland to achieve distinctions in geology, First Class Honours and a Master of Science, working part-time in the Geology Department as a graduate demonstrator and research assistant in his post-graduate years. A quiet and thoughtful young man, he loved the outdoors and the Australian bush, hiking extensively in untracked areas while at university, building skills in bushcraft, navigation and rockclimbing.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">McLeod's introduction to field work was in 1955 when he spent two months with three others in western Tasmania, being supplied by fortnightly airdrops. In early 1956, Ian joined Reg Sprigg's Geosurveys of Australia to explore for nickel in the far northwest of South Australia and adjoining Western Australia. The geology of the area was then hardly known, except that there were several well-exposed bodies of layered rocks, some dipping near vertically with thicknesses up to seven kilometres and exposed strike lengths up to 40 kilometres.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Being among the first to investigate these was exciting and challenging. The only road in the area was a two-wheel track winding through the bush to Mulga Park station, 250 kilometres to the east, but over the next two years, Giles weather station was established and the redoubtable Len Beadell began to grade the network of roads for the Woomera rocket range and the atomic bomb test sites. All the geological work was done using specially flown aerial photographs.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">McLeod moved to BMR in late 1957 and went on to be one of Australia's leading experts in Antarctic geology. He returned to the frozen continent five times over the period 1960 to 1970 to participate in and supervise summer field work out of Mawson station and in the vast Prince Charles Mountains further south. His contribution to Antarctic geology is recognised with McLeod Massif, the McLeod Nunataks, McLeod Glacier and McLeod Island all bearing his name, and with a Polar Medal, an MBE and the Bellinghausen medal from the Russian Academy of Science.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">On his return from Antarctica, McLeod lived at Havelock House where he met Beverley Bradfield, a young pharmacist who had moved from Sydney to take up a position in Civic. They became good friends and married in 1964. Their two children, Graeme and Jennifer, were born in 1966 and 1968.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">McLeod's greatest contribution to Australia's growth as a nation came when he became head of the BMR's Mineral Economics Section in 1974. This Section was responsible for compilation, analysis and publication of information on Australia's mineral assets, and for the provision of expert advice to both government and industry. Its work was critical to the development of Australia's mineral resources and to the policy and regulation framework that the mining industry works within today. As well as leading the Section, Ian was the commodity specialist for tin.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">His role evolved and by 1985 he was responsible for the co-ordination and broad supervision of the groups in the wider Mineral Resources Branch. He retired at the end of 1990 but his extensive knowledge of Australia's mineral resources continued to be in demand. Ian's career had included membership of several national and international committees concerned with Antarctica and the mineral industry, including the Australian National Committee on Antarctic Research, the Working Group on Geology (of which he was secretary) of the international Scientific Committee on Antarctic Research, and the International Strategic Minerals Inventory Working Group. He continued part time as consultant on these and on several resource studies for BMR while quietly throwing himself into the other activities he loved.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQl0ip52EXjoA5j7av-pPHAn-U3YvQHoqhrLGN8G9DCRjakDgOBbSHvAF2u_wRuJRrK8Pk7JIB9LKSk8tK9PoHKtxCUwQFTENsMVKqdL3UZ4V0CkWZOP_a1RAiVtPt3PBa_PFqWT0NTtxQv7WJ6A-7MkAgsYUUsYDLL6JMXq6qOZmSmMEoKXU=s1225" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1225" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQl0ip52EXjoA5j7av-pPHAn-U3YvQHoqhrLGN8G9DCRjakDgOBbSHvAF2u_wRuJRrK8Pk7JIB9LKSk8tK9PoHKtxCUwQFTENsMVKqdL3UZ4V0CkWZOP_a1RAiVtPt3PBa_PFqWT0NTtxQv7WJ6A-7MkAgsYUUsYDLL6JMXq6qOZmSmMEoKXU=w626-h640" width="626" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Ian McLeod in retirement (<i>ca</i> 2013). Picture: Beverley McLeod</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">He became a voluntary explainer at Questacon, a role he continued for many years, and where he was recently awarded Emeritus Volunteer status.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">McLeod also devoted more time to the iconic Canberra Alpine Club which he and Beverley had joined when they had arrived in Canberra. Ian was an active member, bushwalking, skiing, at work parties, and in the management of the Club on committee positions over many years. He was still actively organising the next work party when he became ill. He is remembered as an absolute gentleman, a quiet achiever, who was always ready to lend a hand, and who got things done. His welcoming smile left a lasting impression on everyone he met. He was elected honorary life member in 1997. McLeod's role as Mt Franklin Officer with the Club brought him in close contact with ACT Parks and Conservation. His knowledge of the mountains of Namadgi National Park was legendary and combined his love for geology, the bush and the solace of the wilderness. His steadfast passion and enthusiasm for the heritage of Mt Franklin and the Canberra Alpine Club's association with skiing in the Brindabellas is a tangible legacy.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Ian McLeod is survived by his sister Fiona, his wife Beverley and their two children.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-24508635767107759802022-01-17T15:20:00.001+10:002022-01-17T15:20:27.518+10:00Jon Stephenson revisited<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgHfpqiWbwS9EwiHkjUbR91d8rb1mC7E7ZFQPoktm4MSm4Ye8rcAapniXrikDPKuOvPogrEjNNAgewG7Syz7Q2yDwF9P275hrBv4pfrAsKQ9tJC-V6F4p0zlLXUKJ-70UPXV2DW41Xnw7BhLx2NZ0AAfIgDk41F4LVsziCuOJXf6_7l-z2KgNg=s1600" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgHfpqiWbwS9EwiHkjUbR91d8rb1mC7E7ZFQPoktm4MSm4Ye8rcAapniXrikDPKuOvPogrEjNNAgewG7Syz7Q2yDwF9P275hrBv4pfrAsKQ9tJC-V6F4p0zlLXUKJ-70UPXV2DW41Xnw7BhLx2NZ0AAfIgDk41F4LVsziCuOJXf6_7l-z2KgNg=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Jon Stephenson revisiting Heard Island in 2002 (photograph: Grahame Budd)</div><p><br /></p><p>Jon Stephenson is a name that resounds throughout the postwar history of climbing in Queensland but his contribution extends far beyond his pioneering exploits on the crags of southeast Queensland. This review of Jon's life has been prompted by recent communication with one of his contemporaries, Antarctic explorer Grahame Budd, and Pat Conaghan, himself a trailblazing climber and scientist with more than a passing interest in Australia's climbing heritage and history.</p><p>When Jon passed away in 2011, there were several worthy obituaries celebrating his life but one which has perhaps had limited distribution and which sums up his extraordinary achievements was written by his climbing and scientific contemporary, Grahame Budd. In 1963, Jon and Grahame, together with former British commando Warwick Deacock, made the second attempt to reach the summit of the highest point in Australia and its territories, Mawson Peak on the Big Ben massif, an active volcano on the subAntarctic Heard Island. The following year, Grahame was in the first successful ascent team. </p><p>Grahame's obituary for Jon captures the essence of the influential yet humble man whose unbridled passion for science, the environment and setting foot on high places, helped to create the foundation for Australian climbing culture.</p><p><a href="https://www.antarctica.gov.au/magazine/issue-21-2011/history/vale-dr-jon-stephenson/" target="_blank">Grahame's obit for Jon Stephenson</a> is available online in the <i>Australian Antarctic Magazine</i>, Issue 21, 2011.</p><p>A more detailed description of the ascent of Big Ben, along with more of Grahame's historic photographs is in my book, <i>The living rock</i>, available as a free download until 1 March 2022 from either <a href="https://books.apple.com/au/book/the-living-rock/id1563608845" target="_blank">Apple Books</a> or from <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1lmgVANsPDOi77b0VBu2hePOTa2K6ZM1C/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">Google Drive</a>. Please note that both are very large files (around 700 MB) and will take some time to download.</p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-32624351258341855712021-12-22T16:35:00.003+10:002021-12-23T08:56:59.563+10:00The living rock lives again...<p>Copies of <i>The living rock </i>(digital) will be available as a FREE DOWNLOAD from the <a href="http://books.apple.com/us/book/id1563608845" target="_blank">Apple Bookstore</a> (Apple devices) or <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/12696sjtdClyV5csN4KfiJ_k4pgdHLGGK/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">Google Drive</a> (Android devices) for two months from Boxing Day 2021. Please note these are BIG files, both around 700MB. </p><p>I've decided to offer free copies initially as a thank you to all of you who supported the print version since its launch in 2015. The original print run of 1100 sold out in the second half of 2021with just a few copies still available at places like Binna Burra and Pinnacle Sports. I had decided several years ago that a second edition of the book would be digital, mainly because of the enormous workload involved in organising a second print version, not to mention the uncertainties, inevitable delays and material shortages because of the ongoing pandemic.</p><p>So what's new in this edition? Almost double the number of images (now close to 850) including photographs, newspaper and magazine articles, extracts from diaries, sketch pads and letters that contribute to telling the story of rockclimbing in eastern Australia. I've also included 12 videos from a range of contributors -- Rod Bolton and Robert Rankin, in particular -- which include footage of early climbing activites in southeast Queensland in the late 1960s, 1970s and 1980s, plus aerials of prominent climbing crags in the region (courtesy of Nicholas P Shera -- who is also my esteemed nephew). </p><p>There are new climbing stories from the 1970s and early 1980s that help to fill a gap in the original publication and I have incorporated feedback and suggested corrections from a number of patient and zealous readers. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xPFqI0gjXS0/YcLA_OFsReI/AAAAAAAABdM/uY7I7cpA2dQ8eiE5KuvIaq8MrxqqItzJgCNcBGAsYHQ/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-05%2Bat%2B11.36.07%2Bam.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="1988" height="436" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xPFqI0gjXS0/YcLA_OFsReI/AAAAAAAABdM/uY7I7cpA2dQ8eiE5KuvIaq8MrxqqItzJgCNcBGAsYHQ/w573-h436/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-05%2Bat%2B11.36.07%2Bam.png" width="573" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>From 1 March 2022, the book will be available ONLY through the Apple Bookstore for AU$8.99 but between Boxing Day and March, it's free. So please pass on these details to all those who you think might enjoy reading it -- and add it to your own library. Any funds generated by sales after 1 March will be donated to an environmentally-responsible organisation, the details of which I will announce at a later date.</p><p>It's been another long but rewarding process pulling this one together in a new, portable format which I hope will appeal as much as the hard copy version. Naturally, there will be errors and with an electronic version, they can, at least, be corrected in a reasonable time although it's still not a fast process. So please, let me know what you like -- and what I've got wrong -- and hopefully we will end up with a reasonably accurate story of rockclimbing in Australia (with a Queensland edge).</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Michael Meadows, 22 December 2021</b></p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-70824254263988810622021-11-02T08:20:00.001+10:002021-11-02T08:20:54.955+10:00Bill Peascod documentary launched online<p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> At Home in The Steep Places</span></b></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I1CCztj2kOw/YYBh8IcoGrI/AAAAAAAABbc/r9HnjDcVUXoctVdHKUsj48hI14bJw-9FQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Peascod%2BRock%2Bface%2Bimage%2Blarge%2BRGB%2BPLEASE%2BCREDIT%2BArtwork%2Bby%2BAlan%2BRoper.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="2048" height="374" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I1CCztj2kOw/YYBh8IcoGrI/AAAAAAAABbc/r9HnjDcVUXoctVdHKUsj48hI14bJw-9FQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h374/Peascod%2BRock%2Bface%2Bimage%2Blarge%2BRGB%2BPLEASE%2BCREDIT%2BArtwork%2Bby%2BAlan%2BRoper.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>The feature-length documentary about artist-climber Bill Peascod, <i>At home in steep places</i>, is now available online at the website of the <a href="https://www.mountain-heritage.org" target="_blank">Mountain Heritage Trust</a>. Co-directed by Steve Wharton and Perrin Walker, it tells the story of pioneering Lake District climber-guide, Bill Peascod's transition from climber to mining engineer to artist and his decision to emigrate to Australia to seek out a new life. </p><p>It was in Australia that he rediscovered his love for climbing, largely due to the influence of a young Queensland climber, Neill Lamb, and other members of the Brisbane Bush Walkers. Bill was invited to Queensland in 1955 to conduct a cliff safety course at Kangaroo Point, organised by BBW president, Julie Henry. While he was in Queensland, he climbed what was the first described climbing route in the state -- <i>Faith</i>, on Tibrogargan -- and introduced advanced rope safety techniques which inspired the next generation of climbers. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0B46O8hFXO0/YYBlfPrWQOI/AAAAAAAABbk/QX5HkCxlCJYutfMX7YD0Xqox3NHLcCNgQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Bill%2BPeascod%2Bon%2Bfirst%2Bascent%2Bof%2BFaith%2Bin%2BQueensland%2B1955%2BPLEASE%2BCREDIT%2BNeill%2BLamb%2BCollection.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1357" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0B46O8hFXO0/YYBlfPrWQOI/AAAAAAAABbk/QX5HkCxlCJYutfMX7YD0Xqox3NHLcCNgQCLcBGAsYHQ/w424-h640/Bill%2BPeascod%2Bon%2Bfirst%2Bascent%2Bof%2BFaith%2Bin%2BQueensland%2B1955%2BPLEASE%2BCREDIT%2BNeill%2BLamb%2BCollection.jpg" width="424" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Bill Peascod belaying on the first ascent of <i>Faith</i> on Tibrogargan in 1955 (Photo: Neill Lamb)</span></p><p>Although at the time, many routes had been climbed in Queensland by a cohort of young climbers like Jon Stephenson, John Comino, Geoff Broadbent, Geoff Goadby, Alan Frost and Peter Barnes, before Bill's visit, few of their routes, if any, had ever been formally described in route guides and given a grade using international standards. Bill's visit changed that forever with climbers in Australia adopting the cumbersome British grading scheme (Easy 2, Difficult 3, Very Difficult 4, Severe 5, Very Severe 6). This was later replaced by John Ewbank's open-ended grading system in the late 1960s which we still use today.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mountain Heritage Trust website link: <a href="https://www.mountain-heritage.org" target="_blank">At Home in The Steep Places</a></div><br /><br /><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-61354286772040481052021-09-16T17:09:00.000+10:002021-09-16T17:09:37.058+10:00AT HOME IN THE STEEP PLACES: Documentary on pioneering climber, Bill Peascod, to be launched soon on YouTube<p>In 1955, pioneering Lakeland climber Bill Peascod visited Brisbane's Kangaroo Point and conducted an historic training session. It was the first time that local climbers and bushwalkers had seen carabiners, pitons and rockclimbing safety rope techniques that had been used in the UK and Europe since the late 19th century. </p><p>Bill had emigrated to Australia a few years earlier, taking up a position as a lecturer in mining engineering in Wollongong -- but it was his experience with the Brisbane Bush Walkers that rekindled his love of the outdoors and climbing. BBW president Julie Henry had organised the Brisbane visit following the death of club member, Mickey Miller, on Tibrogargan and a plane crash on Mount Superbus where BBW members were the first on the scene. </p><p>Bill's connection with Australia -- his new home for almost three decades -- and the inspiration to climb again following his friendship with Brisbane-based, Neill Lamb, is documented in a new video to be released soon on YouTube. But the doco offers a deeper insight into Bill Peascod's life, his 'escape' from the 'black depression' of life as a coal miner, and his transition in Australia -- with Japanese influences -- into an acclaimed artist. </p><p>The feature-length documentary -- <b>At Home in the Steep Places: the story of Bill Peascod</b> -- has been produced and directed by musician-climber Steve Wharton. It outlines a climber's life far-removed from the experiences of most Australians and within a context of the emergence of rockclimbing in the UK. It is supported by an original soundtrack that embraces the rich musical heritage of the Lake District with songs written by local performers and climbers, including an Australian vignette. </p><p>A trailer for the film is at this link: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lh9pteudfDk" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lh9pteudfDk</a> </p><p><span style="font-family: times;">The finished film will be available online on Youtube but embedded on the landing page of the <a href="https://www.mountain-heritage.org" target="_blank">Mountain Heritage Trust</a> website with that acting as the main location to send people to. The online launch will be timed for an evening (Australian/Japanese time) in September. </span></p><div><span style="font-family: times;">The links and files for subsequent screenings of the film (mp4 and DCP) will be made available for free to schools, community groups and venues anywhere in the world on the proviso that should any ticket sales exceed the cost of the screening then a donation is made to a cause within the ethos of the film. This could be any causes or charities in the fields of climbing, art, nature conservation, mining heritage or folk/roots music (in a nod to the massive part that the soundtrack has played in the telling of Bill's story).</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times;">I was involved in a small way towards the end of the project and am very proud to have been associated with the production. I've seen an early version of the video so don't expect another video like</span><span style="font-family: times;"> </span><i style="font-family: times;">Free Solo</i><span style="font-family: times;">, for example. <b>At Home in the Steep Places</b> is </span><span style="font-family: times;">a world apart from the modern climbing movie genre that tends to focus on action, adventure and superlative achievement</span><span style="font-family: times;">. This is a moving, gentle story, delving deeply into the life and contexts that shaped this influential climber. It reminds us that we are all influenced by the different lives we lead away from climbing but it is this very dimension that is most often absent from the modern climbing video ethos. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times;">I'll let you know the official launch date and time as soon as I get the word from Steve.</span></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-63364402798879336112021-09-05T11:58:00.000+10:002021-09-05T11:58:55.515+10:00The Living Rock hard copies sold out<p>Well, it's happened -- the last box of printed copies of <i>The Living Rock</i> has gone out the door and appropriately, to one of my strongest supporters: Emily and AJ at Pinnacle Sports, West End. Apart from copies I gave to each participant in the project, the first sale in 2015 was to Brisbane climber Alex Mougenot. It's been quite a journey during which I have met so many wonderful people making the experience as rewarding as compiling the book itself. Of the 1100 copies I hauled home from the docks in Brisbane -- ably assisted by my great nephew Trystan and a heavily overloaded car and trailer -- I estimate that around two-thirds have been sold to people I have met face-to-face. In our current frenzied online age, that's quite an achievement, I reckon. </p><p>But there have been so many supporters of this project along the way: Greg Nunn and Mountain Designs, who hosted the 2015 launch and on-sold many, many copies for me over several years until the company's sad demise; Teresa Cause from the Boonah-based Far Outdoors -- always an enthusiastic supporter and friend; Glenn Tempest from Open Spaces in Natimuk who has managed to convince Victorian climbers to read about the exploits of their Queensland colleagues; Binna Burra Lodge, with its connections to the high-achieving members of the Groom family, embraced the book from the start and still has copies for sale following the devastating bushfires of 2019; K2-Basecamp in Brisbane has been one of the key Brisbane-based distributors; and there are the many others -- local libraries, small family-run bookshops (like Petrarch's in Launceston and The Hobart Bookshop), tourist information centres at the Glass House Mountain, Canungra, Rathdowney and even one in the northern NSW village of Tyalgum. Thank you one and all!</p><p>I've decided not to have another print run of the book, mainly because of the extraordinary effort required and to enable me to include additional digital material. And so the next version will be an Apple Books production and hopefully, I will have completed it before the end of the year. It will include additional photographs (including aerials of southeast Queensland mountain areas), some new climbing stories, corrections (thank you to all those who have contacted me about the inevitable errors and inaccuracies), and some early climbing videos -- silent 8mm film converted to digital format of climbing activities in Queensland from the late 1960s. </p><p>Hopefully you'll find this e-version as engaging as the print copies. I apologise to all of you whom will be unable to access this without an Apple device but at present, alternative online publishing formats do not allow me the project file size I need to present all of the visual material. Here's a preview of the e-book cover...talk to you when I'm closer to going live. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jVlNHteJUUs/YTQjpbfwprI/AAAAAAAABZ4/CKKRofmL0zMAshinpVFj-TgDgEf0BZeewCLcBGAsYHQ/s1988/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-05%2Bat%2B11.36.07%2Bam.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="1988" height="486" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jVlNHteJUUs/YTQjpbfwprI/AAAAAAAABZ4/CKKRofmL0zMAshinpVFj-TgDgEf0BZeewCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h486/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-05%2Bat%2B11.36.07%2Bam.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-36258103655082945562021-06-05T14:39:00.002+10:002021-06-05T14:39:27.148+10:00The living rock hard copies almost gone!<p>This is your last chance to have a hard copy of the book as I won’t be having another print run. Almost all of the 1100 copies I had printed are now gone and at the time of writing…5 June 2021… I have just 10 copies left. I’m well-advanced on an online edition which will be a corrected, updated version and will include new material and images, along with some historical climbing video. Because of the large file size, it will be available only through the Apple iBookstore so I apologise to Android users in advance. Unfortunately, other online platforms don’t allow for a project of this size.</p><p>I’ll announce a publication date soon but I expect it will be within the next two months. </p><p>Thank you to all who have supported this project from the beginning. </p>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-28432984945843161602020-10-24T21:54:00.003+10:002020-10-27T18:33:03.285+10:00A tribute to trailblazing Queensland adventurer<h2 style="text-align: left;"></h2><h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></h2><h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></h2><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-large;">Geoffrey Bede Goadby</span></h2><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-large;">16 January 1925 — 16 October 2020</span></b></div></b><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span><div><b><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HV9LGRgDEps/X5PA_cF7S9I/AAAAAAAABFc/MYRDueFicG47U3WayON_kJsdtTARbIFpwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1843/RM14.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1843" data-original-width="1198" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HV9LGRgDEps/X5PA_cF7S9I/AAAAAAAABFc/MYRDueFicG47U3WayON_kJsdtTARbIFpwCLcBGAsYHQ/w416-h640/RM14.jpg" width="416" /></a></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div></blockquote></blockquote><b style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Geoff Goadby on the first ascent of the east face of Mount Warning, 1949</b> </div></b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: times;">(Photograph: Raoul Mellish)</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">A chance meeting at Mount Barney in the summer of 1949 arguably changed the course of rockclimbing in postwar Queensland. Geoff Goadby, then 24, was camped near Yellow Pinch on the recommendation of one of his fellow sailors, Bruce Mellor. Geoff had recently left the armed services and was wearing his polished black army-issue boots when he met up with 19-year-old Jon Stephenson. During their conversation, Geoff mentioned that he had recently abseiled down sea cliffs at Caloundra using a mainsheet from a yacht and was immediately invited to accompany Jon on an ascent of Leaning Peak. Jon had only just completed the first descent of the overhanging eastern cliff of Leaning with Derryck Firth, but with no knowledge of abseiling techniques, they had used prussik knots to lower themselves off! Two weeks after the fortuitous Mount Barney meeting, Jon and Geoff became the first to abseil off Leaning Peak, heralding an era of rockclimbing in Queensland that embraced the use of rope as a safety device. </span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Geoff’s knowledge of ropes came from sailing but he had read about climbing and saw the potential to apply his skills on the heights. Although the early, locally-made cotton rope was a far cry from today’s high-performance offerings, using it regularly to safeguard a climber was a marked departure from the anti-rope stance taken by Bert Salmon and his pre-war followers. Initially, manilla hemp rope was unavailable in Brisbane until Geoff — using his seafaring and diving knowledge — sourced some from a local factory, specifically manufacturing it for hard-hat divers. He tested it out with Raoul Mellish and Reg Ballard when they made the first ascent of the east face of Mount Warning that same year — 1949.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hyxay-G8dsk/X5PLDlVZ0AI/AAAAAAAABH8/haNfsdaRK0wm7mmko8oGL7ZFrtFOv7GwwCLcBGAsYHQ/s781/JS008.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="781" data-original-width="651" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hyxay-G8dsk/X5PLDlVZ0AI/AAAAAAAABH8/haNfsdaRK0wm7mmko8oGL7ZFrtFOv7GwwCLcBGAsYHQ/w534-h640/JS008.jpg" width="534" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p></div><b style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Bill Dowd (left) and Geoff Goadby on Mount Barney circa 1950</b> </div></b><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: times;">(Photograph: Jon Stephenson)</span></b></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">By 1950, Geoff had been enlisted to teach abseiling techniques to members of the newly-established University of Queensland Bushwalking Club (UQBWC) at Kangaroo Point cliffs. He and a small group of friends, including Alan Frost and Peter Barnes, later pioneered the first climbing routes there. The early training sessions didn’t always go according to plan as Geoff explained: </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
</div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I was telling people what to do and I said to a bloke by the name of Byron Holloway (who was known as 'Chimp'): ‘You demonstrate.’ So he wrapped the rope around himself, walked over to the edge of the cliff and went CLUNK! That was quick…he had forgotten to tie it on! But there were a number of instances where a rope was a big help. Bertie Salmon reckoned it was unsporting to use artificial aids [like ropes] but I thought this was bloody ridiculous. He was an extremely competent climber himself but we couldn’t get him interested in the uni bushwalking club. We invited him once and he came along dressed up in a sports coat. He wasn’t interested. But he did subsequently change his view on ropes. </span></p></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;">
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Geoff recalled that Jon Stephenson once climbed the Main Tower at the University of Queensland using a rope belay, unaware that his Geology supervisor, Professor Fred Whitehouse, was watching as he jumped for a handhold, stepping on one of the sandstone gargoyles that grace the face of the building. Later, rather than admonishing Jon for his antics, the professor was more interested in the difficulty of the climb!</span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Geoff’s interest in the outdoors had close links with the sea. In the late 1940s, he was invited to sail a 20 metre missionary boat to Papua New Guinea. During that time, he read about the caves at Chillagoe in North Queensland and became attracted by the idea of underground exploration.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
</div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I was using ropes because I was doing a bit of caving by myself — there was no one else doing it. I went to Texas, Rockhampton, Chillagoe three times. I was on my own at Rockhampton and you’ve got to be pretty careful in there on your own</span></p></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;">
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">His subterranean experiences sparked his interest in more land-based exploration and resulted in his chance meeting with the influential Jon Stephenson in 1949. Their friendship extended to Geoff participating in field trips to Mount Barney as Jon gathered data for his postgraduate research on the geology of the area. Geoff recalled that he carried the food in — and a pack filled with rocks out! They found that the Lands Department maps of the area were inaccurate with Jon discovering an unlisted mountain peak, promptly given the name of Mount Phillip — Jon’s first name — although he was always reluctant to publicise it. </span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Around the same time that the UQBWC formed — 1950 — a Brisbane Climbing Club also emerged from a mixture of university students, staff and ‘old school’ climbers like Bert Salmon and Fred Whitehouse. Geoff recalled the process:</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
</div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">We had a few meetings but usually, someone would ring up on Friday and say, ‘Let’s go somewhere.’ We used to go up onto the Glasshouses and set fireworks off on Guy Fawkes’ Night [5 November]. I invited a bunch of scuba divers up Beerwah once to let fireworks off but I had contacted the Forestry to let them know I was going to do it.</span></p></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;">
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Eight months after it had formed, the Brisbane Climbing club collapsed when accusations that it had been infiltrated by ‘communists’ created deep divisions. It was a time of political conservatism and a fear of communism in the USA (McCarthyism) and here with the Prime Minister, Robert Menzies, enthusiastically supporting the ‘Reds under the beds’ shibboleth. Fortunately, the UQBWC continued with many of the same climbers joining forces again — the attraction of climbing overwhelming political disagreements. In photographs of the time, Geoff is easily recognisable by his distinctive ‘Robin Hood/pixie’ style hat.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKMfGzEGbos/X5PHPD9rKTI/AAAAAAAABHE/NS_5tvaoxbUn_feR87ouP3tcxmuP5rJ3QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1079/jc002.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="1079" height="422" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKMfGzEGbos/X5PHPD9rKTI/AAAAAAAABHE/NS_5tvaoxbUn_feR87ouP3tcxmuP5rJ3QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h422/jc002.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span><b>Hinchinbrook Island 1953: (from left) Geoff Goadby, John Comino (partly obscured), </b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span><b>Ian McLeod, Jon Stephenson, Dave Stewart (pipe) and Geoff Broadbent </b> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span>(Photograph: John Comino)</span></b></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fA4Z5PHTFng/X5PHPOKQqwI/AAAAAAAABHI/XsUwwntmqEsGw_FZaKnosOoAZlb2Y0G5wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1175/jc004.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1175" height="418" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fA4Z5PHTFng/X5PHPOKQqwI/AAAAAAAABHI/XsUwwntmqEsGw_FZaKnosOoAZlb2Y0G5wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h418/jc004.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><span style="font-family: times;"><b>Hinchinbrook Island 1993: (from left) Dave Stewart, Jon Stephenson, John Comino, </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times;"><b>Ian McLeod, Geoff Broadbent and Geoff Goadby </b><b><span>(Photograph: Jon Stephenson)</span></b></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">In January 1953, Geoff was part of a six member UQBWC expedition to Hinchinbrook Island which included Jon Stephenson, John Comino, Dave Stewart, Ian McLeod and Geoff Broadbent. Despite being caught in a cyclone, they managed to make the first ascent of the Thumb, a granite monolith on the side of Mount Bowen. Geoff Goadby recalled: </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
</div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">It was just one of the things we did. Nothing spectacular. We knew we were the first to walk the full length of Hinchinbrook and Johnno [John Comino] would often go off without saying anything. </span></p></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;">
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Later that year, Geoff joined what had become a tight knit group of friends — Jon Stephenson, Peter Barnes and Alan Frost — to climb the imposing south face of Beerwah. Alan Frost recalls his first meeting with Geoff on that day:</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
</div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I came to Qld in 1953, a callow youth, to study Vet Science. I was ensconced at Kings College where Peter Barnes inhabited the next kennel. He introduced me to climbing, was thereafter my mentor; he soon introduced me to the Statesmen of Climbing in Brisbane. For this we went on his Triumph to Beerwah where we were to meet this Geoff. We found his car, but no sign of him: a bit of a search, then from the bushes leapt this strange figure, with a shout, a big smile, topped with his trade pixie/Robin Hood hat. Then Jon Stevenson arrived and we were off to climb the South face of Beerwah. A wonderful day, all new for me, somewhat overwhelmed by the company and their experience.</span></p></div></blockquote><p> </p><div style="text-align: center;">
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<p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vr8H4XssRFk/X5PJEzkhvLI/AAAAAAAABHY/G9dMPBH5lRcGptoqntRI1eYqSLavr7Z0QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1772/PB51%2B1954.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1230" data-original-width="1772" height="444" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vr8H4XssRFk/X5PJEzkhvLI/AAAAAAAABHY/G9dMPBH5lRcGptoqntRI1eYqSLavr7Z0QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h444/PB51%2B1954.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><b><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b>First ascent Glennies Pulpit 1954 (from left) Alan Frost, Jon Stephenson, </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Geoff Goadby and Peter Barnes</b> <b><span>(Photograph: Peter Barnes)</span></b></div></span></b><div style="text-align: center;"><div><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">On 18 July, 1954, Geoff Goadby, 29, Jon Stephenson, 23, Peter Barnes, 25, and Alan Frost, 19, made the first ascent of Glennies Pulpit (then known variously as ‘Kilroy’s Moneybox’ or ‘The Pig’s Ding’) via today’s ‘Tourist Route’. It was a fitting farewell for Jon who left Australia soon after to complete his PhD research in London and to explore the world. Later that year, Geoff joined with John Comino, Alan Frost and Peter Barnes in guiding Italian Consul Felice Benuzzi up Leaning Peak. Peter Barnes’ photograph taken on the summit that day evokes the simplicity and the enchantment of the era. The inspiring trio of Geoff Goadby, Peter Barnes and Alan Frost dominated the achievements in climbing and scrambling in the early part of the 1950s, their energetic and speedy ascents of almost everything vertical in Southeast Queensland becoming legendary. Reading about their exploits was a major incentive for me — and I know, many others since — to try to follow in their footsteps.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cphii1IrxTY/X5PJh1RoTLI/AAAAAAAABHg/nQrRe5W_pWki67cjX3SUdjomLIGwM1BigCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/PB01.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1231" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cphii1IrxTY/X5PJh1RoTLI/AAAAAAAABHg/nQrRe5W_pWki67cjX3SUdjomLIGwM1BigCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h384/PB01.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><b><span style="font-family: times;">The summit of Leaning Peak, Mount Barney, 1954 (from left) John Comino, </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: times;">Italian Consul Felice Benuzzi, Geoff Goadby, Peter Barnes and Alan Frost (behind)</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: times;"> (Photograph: Peter Barnes)</span></b></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Geoff Goadby not only pioneered the use of roped climbing in Queensland, but also forged the first locally-made pitons, cut out of mild steel. Typically, he recalled that he and his colleagues never went out with the intention of breaking records:</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
</div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">We did it because we enjoyed it. Good company. Walking led to climbing very often. Jon and I went to south or west Beerwah once. It hadn’t been climbed. It was a bloody hot day so we sat down beside a tree then we turned around and went home. If you can do that it’s a pretty reasonable attitude. We subsequently climbed it — the south face.</span></p></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;">
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Geoff had a varied life that incorporated a wide range of experiences. After school, he began studying Science at university but left to work on a North Queensland cattle station. He returned to Brisbane and joined Norman Wright’s boat building yard with sailing soon becoming a major part of his life. He had significant success in blue water racing, being a member of the crew of the cruising yacht, <i>Norseman,</i> on four of the five occasions it won the Brisbane—Gladstone Yacht Race between 1951 and 1956. Geoff recalled that the owner-builder Lex Wilson had been racing for 50 years when he joined the crew. Over the next decade or so he worked in various occupations, including as a rigger on the TV aerials for the new TV stations being erected on Mount Coot-tha and with a small mining company, before moving to manage the newly-established laboratory at the University of Queensland Veterinary School Farm at Pinjarra Hills. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4RbiNjMCWTM/X5PKehsO4ZI/AAAAAAAABH0/PyfVWclOLAMkDs5A2r1Or3xDvsEXMx34wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1431/PB35.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1189" data-original-width="1431" height="532" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4RbiNjMCWTM/X5PKehsO4ZI/AAAAAAAABH0/PyfVWclOLAMkDs5A2r1Or3xDvsEXMx34wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h532/PB35.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span><b>On the summit of Beerwah in 1953 following an ascent of the South Face (from left) </b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span><b>Geoff Goadby, Peter Barnes, </b></span><span><b>Alan Frost and Jon Stephenson </b></span><b><span>(Photograph: Peter Barnes)</span></b></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div><div><br /></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 6px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Throughout the early 1950s, he was involved in efforts by the UQBWC to build the first hut on Mount Barney after Jon Stephenson was benighted there in mid-winter with verglas covering the rock. But climbing was never far from Geoff’s agenda. Peter Barnes remembers his reaction when he heard about the fraught first ascent of Beerwah’s west chimney:</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 6px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 6px 36px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Alan Frost said it was the most frightening experience of his life so he reckoned it should be done properly and that the boys better go and give it another nudge. He and I and Geoff Goadby screamed up there one day and had a great time — [consults diary] 20 October ’56… Frost and [David] MacGibbon did it in August.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 6px 36px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 6px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Alan Frost is the ‘youngster’ in that 1950s’ climbing cohort. At age 85, he’s still climbing and has made more than 100 ascents of Logan’s Ridge on Mount Barney, many of them solo. He acknowledges that it was Peter and Geoff who encouraged him to slow down and to look more closely at the world around him. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 6px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Geoff Goadby was a polymath — able to engage in authoritative conversation on almost any topic from the arts to the sciences — and his desire to explore the unknown remained a prime driving force throughout his life. He willingly shared his knowledge with others and always downplayed his own influential role, often with a quizzical smile. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 6px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Peter Barnes recalls his very first outing with Geoff Goadby — a climb up the east face of Mount Warning in November 1950. They had ridden to the base of the mountain on their motorcycles and were camped in a banana plantation, planning an early start. They had settled down for the evening in an old storage hut when Geoff suddenly appeared wearing a pair of pink pyjamas. And his response to the guffaws of his disbelieving comrades? ‘I like to be comfortable during the night.’</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 6px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Geoff Goadby was the first person I interviewed in 1999 at the start of my research on Queensland climbing history that ultimately led to publication of the book, <i>The Living Rock.</i> At that first meeting and in all subsequent discussions, his enthusiasm, self-effacing humour and humility prevailed. It was inspiration for me to try to capture the essence of that moment in history when he and his peers had the world at their feet. They reached out and grabbed it, creating a pathway for all of us to follow. Geoff Goadby is remembered for his camaraderie, the passion he had for invention and exploration, and his willingness to share this knowledge with others. He is survived by his wife, Merle.</span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 6px; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Michael Meadows </span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Thanks to Peter Barnes and Alan Frost</span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></b><p></p></div></div>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-63921795255635306992020-07-06T10:59:00.000+10:002020-07-06T10:59:44.544+10:00 Farewell to a pioneering Australian climbing icon<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b><b><b>Donn Graeme Groom</b> </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b> 19 April 1937 — 23 June 2020</b></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donn Groom on the second ascent of the<i> North West Face</i> <br />of Federation Peak 1969 (Photo: Paul Caffyn)</td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 1;"> </span>Donn Groom’s pathway to outdoor adventure was almost predetermined in one sense. His father, Arthur, was a pioneering explorer, writer and photographer — a visionary and passionate advocate for the environment who began urging for the preservation of old growth forests and wilderness in southeast Queensland from the late 1920s. Arthur enlisted his own evocative journalism to describe the solo journeys he made into the wild rainforests of the McPherson Range on the Queensland—New South Wales border, illustrated with stunning photographs of remote vistas never before seen by newspaper and magazine readers. Dozens of his articles and images were published from 1929 and it was this body of work, along with the National Parks Association he was instrumental in launching in 1930, that kick-started the environmental movement in Queensland. In 1933, Arthur joined with another staunch conservationist, Romeo Lahey, to set up Binna Burra Lodge as a holiday destination at the edge of what would later become Lamington National Park.<br />
<span style="line-height: 1.5;"> </span>This was Donn Groom’s heritage — and his backyard. He was the eldest of four — with brothers Tony and Richard from his father’s second marriage and sister, Linda, from the third. Donn always regarded his influential father as a mountaineer and explorer rather than a rockclimber and seemed to mould his own life along those lines. Another early influence he acknowledged was Italian maestro Walter Bonatti. Donn read everything he could about that extraordinary mountaineer’s life and even wrote to Bonatti on one occasion, asking him about the belaying techniques he had used when he made his daring solo ascent of the Southwest Pillar of the Dru in the French Alps in 1955. ‘Never got an answer though,’ Donn admitted with a wry smile.<br /><span style="line-height: 1.5;"> </span>In the early 1950s, he would chase wild goats around the top of the rhyolite cliffs at Binna Burra but eventually found a group of like-minded adventurers in Brisbane, including members of the Brisbane Bush Walkers. He joined them for scrambles in the Glass House Mountains which seemed like ‘peanuts’ after his early exploits on the heights at Binna Burra. Over the next five years or so, he was part of a cohort of early Queensland climbing royalty, including Julie Henry, Neill Lamb and legendary British expatriate climber, Bill Peascod, who joined with Donn and Neill in May 1956 to put up two new routes on the big south face of Beerwah in the Glass House Mountains — <i style="line-height: 1.5;">Pilgrim’s Progress</i> and <i style="line-height: 1.5;">Mopoke Slabs</i>.<br />
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<span>Above the Binna Burra cliffs in the early 1960s (Photo: John Larkin) </span></div>
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<span> </span>A week later at the Steamers, near Killarney, the trio put up an innovative new route on the Funnel, calling it <i>Reptile</i>. Neill Lamb’s brief diary notes read: ‘Bill, self and Donn did new route up Funnel. Incident with goanna. Hole in wall, 80 ft chimney. Rapelled down, rope jammed, off at dark.’ It wasn’t the last time Donn’s climbing efforts extended beyond sunset but it was Bill Peascod’s last new route in Queensland — and perhaps ever — as his new pursuit as an artist gradually took over his life.<br /><span> </span>Donn’s climbing days were abruptly cut short when, as a telephone technician, he was transferred to Cloncurry for four years. It could not be further from his beloved mountains and he was far from happy. But when he returned to Binna Burra in 1965, he made up for lost time by starting the Brisbane Rockclimbing Club It was a major turning point in Queensland (and Australian) climbing history. The club attracted members from four existing southeast Queensland outdoor groups — the Brisbane Bush Walkers (BBW), the University of Queensland Bushwalking Club (UQBWC), the Binna Burra Bushwalking Club and the YMCA Ramblers — and its objectives echoed the philosophy espoused by his father: ‘To rockclimb and instruct interested people in rockclimbing; and to abide by and assist in maintaining conservation laws and create interest and preservation of natural beauty and wild life.’<br />
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<span>Donn belaying his young son, Terry, on Binna Burra's east cliffs (Photo: Donn Groom) </span></div>
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<span>Donn's son Michael at age five (Photo: Donn Groom) </span></div>
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<span> </span>Les Wood left England seeking work as a geography tutor and discovered both the Brisbane Rockclimbing Club and Donn Groom on his arrival in the Queensland capital, early in 1966:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Donn was then at Binna Burra and seemed to have a perfect life in that he and his brothers had taken over the lodge and they seemed to have two years on and one year off. He was an avid climber and a really nice bloke. We got on very well together and he had a car — I didn’t have one in the early days — so we started going to the Glass House Mountains. I think I’d got a background that was unusual to many of them…Climbing before I left England occupied all my life. It wasn’t like a sport; it was a way of life more than anything.</blockquote>
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<span>On the first pitch of <i>East Crookneck</i> during the first free ascent with Les Wood in 1966 </span></div>
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<span>(Photo: Wendy Straker, Donn Groom collection)</span></div>
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<span> </span>Meeting Les was a defining moment in Donn's life while Wood recalled that he, too, had found a soul mate: ‘He always seemed to me to be like a big kid. We got on really well together and I always found him to be one of the most gentle people I’ve ever known. He’s so kind, it’s not true. He’s got an attitude to life I wish I could borrow a bit.’ The duo put up a series of visionary climbs in southeast Queensland that remain classics to this day — routes like <i>East Crookneck </i>(free), <i>Clemency</i> and <i>Overexposed</i>. And only then Donn began to look closer to home — he was 28 when he climbed his first new route, <i>Way Out</i>, on the bubbly rhyolite of Binna Burra’s east cliffs with long-time friend, John Larkin. Donn recalled how it all began: <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I used to look down on the cliffs for a long time before I realised that they were perhaps climbable. I started with John Larkin doing <i>Alcheringa</i> and did some more with Les [<i>Dislocation</i>, <i>Gravedigger</i>]. I even climbed one with Dick Smith (the electronics man). He called me up a while back and reminded me of it. I don't remember the climb, however, it probably would have been Swansong — that was the only climb I ever took guests from the lodge up.</blockquote>
<span> </span>The classy <i>Alcheringa</i> was the hardest route in Queensland in 1966 and soon had an equal in terms of difficulty when Donn teamed up with a youthful Ted Cais to climb <i>Flameout</i> on the Southwest buttress of Crookneck. Ted Cais recalled a failed early attempt on the route with Les Wood: ‘I returned in the heat of November with Donn Groom and he passed the overhang that was Les’s previous high point with two points of aid but took a whipper on an upside-down peg — it held — before figuring out the thin moves above.’<br />
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<span>Climbing on Tibrogargan in the mid-1960s (Photo: Donn Groom) </span></div>
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<span> </span>In that same year, Donn orchestrated the first ascent of Mount Barney’s 300 metre <i>East Face </i>with John Tillack and a very hungover Les Wood, who remembers nothing of the climb. Tillack was forced to lasso a tree to overcome the crux although Donn climbed it free as a second. The route is rarely repeated because of its remote, serious and runout nature — a true adventure climb that was at the top of Donn’s list of ‘last great problems’ in southeast Queensland.<br />
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<span> </span>It was an extraordinary era in which Donn Groom, Les Wood, Ted Cais and John Tillack together shaped the future of rockclimbing in Queensland — but the next generation was waiting in the wings: Donn introduced his young son, Michael, to Frog Buttress shortly after its discovery in the late 1960s. Around this time, Michael — then five — remembers his father stopping at a lookout of Mount Barney and as they gazed at the view, Donn explained that Mount Everest was about eight times higher. ‘And that has stuck in my head,’ Michael recalls.’ That was the door to the path leading to Everest. It’s just one of those things; it just got into my head and never got out until I climbed it.’<br />
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<span>Paul Caffyn, Donn Groom and Alan Keller on the summit of Federation Peak following their second ascent of the <i>Blade Ridge</i> and <i>North West Face</i> in 1969 (Photo: Paul Caffyn) </span></div>
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<span> </span>In 1967, Donn headed for Tasmania with friends, John Larkin and Bob Fick, walking the Overland Track and then into Frenchman’s Cap, wrecking their feet in the process. Donn’s resulting article, ‘Scaling Tasmania’s Peaks’, was published in <i>Walkabout</i> that year and included several of his large-format photographs. He had started carrying a heavy 2 1/4 square camera with him, emulating his father whose grandiose images of wilderness helped to inspire the Queensland national parks' movement almost four decades earlier.<br />
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<span> </span>I first met Donn Groom 52 years ago on the evening I attended my initial meeting of the Brisbane Rockclimbing Club. I remember him warmly welcoming me, my brother Chris, Greg Sheard and John Shera into the small community of local climbers. John, Chris and I had made the first ascent of the north face of Leaning Peak on Mount Barney a few days earlier and Donn generously acknowledged our achievement. It was an inspiration to meet someone of Donn's stature who welcomed us as friends. Ian Thomas joined the BRC a few years later and although he met and climbed with Donn only a few times over the years, he recalls the influence that he and Les Wood had on his own emerging passion for the heights:<br />
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Those early blokes did influence me through their writings and also the very first guide book I think Rick [White] put together for the Glass House Mountains — a little guidebook — and in there was Les Wood and Donn Groom: their names loomed large. <i>Clemency</i> and all those sorts of climbs, <i>Overexposed</i>, <i>Trojan</i> and all the rest of them — they were to me just the pinnacle of horror. You’d shake and quiver in terror thinking about them. They really left me feeling awed. So they were actually inspirational through what they’d done, not through any meetings.</blockquote>
<span> </span>In 1969, Donn joined a Brisbane Rockclimbing Club Easter trip to the Warrumbungles, teaming up with the irrepressible Greg Sheard for some memorable moments. Greg recalls one, in particular, as he traversed towards Donn who was belaying him on the first pitch of the Bryden Allen/Ted Batty classic, <i>Out and Beyond</i>:<br />
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As Donn was sitting there, he was dropping little pebbles which grew into bigger and bigger rocks. I’d had a bad experience on Tibro and I was a bit anti-dropping rocks but this looked really interesting — and I figured that if Donn Groom could do it, so could I. We ended up reaching the stage where we were taking it turns climbing up a little bit and collecting more rocks, coming back down to the ledge and dropping them over, timing how long they’d take to reach the bottom until we finally heard a lot of screams from below and suddenly discovered that the track actually went underneath us. So we abandoned rock-dropping and continued upwards.</blockquote>
<span> </span>Donn was back in Tassie within 12 months, this time with his first wife, Roma, and their two sons, Michael and Terry. They lived for two years in the Berriedale Caravan Park in Hobart and Donn began climbing in earnest, joining the Climbing Club of Tasmania (CCT) and linking up with the likes of Reg Williams, Mike Douglas, John Moore, Tom Terry, Peter Jackson and Phillip Stranger:<br />
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We climbed on the Organ Pipes quite a lot — a tremendous atmosphere, quite alpine at times, right above the city of Hobart — and we often got caught in the dark. Later on I climbed with Allen Keller — he was a real bushwhacker that one — a real Crocodile Dundee character with the accent to go with it all! He came from somewhere near Ipswich but I only knew him in Tassie. He was a mad caver as well and I spent a whole weekend underground with him and Paul Caffyn trying to follow some shit of a hidden passage — the weirdest weekend I ever had. I don't particularly like caving and they had me on a couple of times and left me for dead, right when my trog lamp went out in a very nasty spot. You carry an emergency kit of a tobacco tin with a candle, box of matches, and a lamp pricker. You have to clear the jet with the pricker, candle and box of matches. The bastards wouldn't wait for me and I was getting quite panicky in a shit of a tight spot. So weeks later, when the three of us were doing the second ascent of the <i>Blade Ridge</i> and the <i>North West Face</i> on Federation Peak, they made me do the crux chimney pitch even though I hate chimneys! But I decided to get my own back while they were climbing the chimney pitch below me by some spectacular boulder rolling. I managed to scare the shit out of them! We decided to celebrate our climb of Federation when we got back to Hobart and went up to the Organ Pipes — drank a bottle of Claret between us and climbed a new route we called <i>Claret Corner</i>, and finished that one in the dark, too.</blockquote>
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<span>Leading <i>Double Column Central</i> on the Organpipes, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span>Mount Wellington, Hobart, 1969 (Photo: Paul Caffyn) </span></div>
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<span> </span>Over the next few months, he and Paul linked up for a dozen or so new routes on the ‘Pipes but the lure of Frenchman’s Cap remained:<br />
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I remember going in to Frenchman’s with Paul one time in shit weather with all sorts of grand notions about climbing new routes on the southeast face and even having a look at the then unclimbed east face. We camped below it for a couple of days in mist and rain listening to waterfalls off the overhangs above. The rain stopped and the mist slowly lifted like a giant curtain on this monstrous white fang of a mountain — it’s made of quartzite — dripping and as slippery as shit. Every foot the mist rose our determination dropped the other way — freaked us out, so we packed up and pissed off home. But I never worried with these sorts of failures — just being there was enough.</blockquote>
<span> </span>But the pull of snow and ice prevailed and although his knees were starting to fail with early signs of arthritis, Donn joined a small Climbing Club of Tasmania group, including Reg Williams and Mike Douglas, and headed for New Zealand’s Southern Alps. It was a largely unsatisfying trip, mainly because of bad weather and indecision — until Donn’s adventurous spirit prevailed, devising a shortcut to the summit of Tutoko under a teetering icefall: ‘It took hours off the climb and, in fact, we made it, which felt good.’ He was hooked:<br />
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I remember walking up the Matukituki Valley towards Aspiring — not that we had Aspiring in mind just yet — but we hadn’t seen sign of the mountains because they’d been covered by cloud for days. I didn’t really know what a true alpine scene was. Suddenly, as we walked up the main valley, another opened to the right towards Aspiring and we could see this incredible ice fall — a mess of falling ice through a hole in the clouds — nearly freaked me out but I knew, then, I was in the mountains and wanted to do something about it.</blockquote>
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<span>On the summit of Low Peak, Mount Rolleston, Arthurs Pass National Park, New Zealand, following a winter ascent of the Rome Ridge, 27 September 1975 (Photo: Paul Caffyn) </span></div>
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<span> </span>He returned to the Southern Alps for a couple of seasons — teaming up variously with George Harris and Robert Staszewski — but either the weather window did not arrive or other obstacles emerged. Close to the summit of Aoraki-Mount Cook on the <i>Zurbriggen Ridge</i> with Rob, they came across an injured Japanese climber and were forced to abandon their attempt so they could organise a rescue. But despite the disappointments, just being in the mountains was enough. Donn recalled a later trip into Everest basecamp with his now mountaineering son, Michael:<br />
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As we walked up — hadn’t seen any of the really high ones at all — and I was wondering what all the fuss was about, when around a corner came a bloody monster and once again I felt like I really hadn’t seen mountains before. Of course at that stage, I could do bugger all about it but it was an amazing experience to see the genes through Mike still pushing on in a way and for me, that trip to base camp was one of the most satisfying trips I have had into the mountains anywhere. Alaska was a special place for me, however.</blockquote>
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<span>Climbing above Rome Gap on a winter ascent of the Rome Ridge on Mount Rolleston, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span>Arthurs Pass National Park, New Zealand, 27 September 1975 (Photo: Paul Caffyn) </span></div>
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<span> </span>Around 1980, Michael moved to Alaska to live with his father and for 18 months they climbed together, with Michael making several first alpine ascents. Eventually, Donn and his second wife, Mary, decided they would sail back across the Pacific on their yacht with their two young sons, Joshua and Danny. Like climbing, sailing had captured Donn’s imagination:<br />
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It seems a lot of climbers become sailors for some reason, so with me and after my knees just wouldn’t work any longer with arthritis, sailing seemed to fit the bill. It’s the same sort of freedom, I guess, especially when you take off as we did, across to New Zealand.</blockquote>
<span> </span>They had been dreading the long haul across the Pacific but it was sailing down the west coast of North America that proved to be the most frightening — encountering huge seas, a massive Russian fishing fleet and motoring, exhausted, into a fog-bound West coast port in the dead of night, relying solely on radar for navigation, only to discover next morning they had anchored in the middle of a circular harbour surrounded by hundreds of luxury apartments.<br />
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<span> </span>But they didn’t quite make it to Australia, settling in the small North Island community of Taheke, where another of Donn’s innovative visions emerged. They needed a house so he built one himself out of mud bricks. The extraordinary building that resulted was actually scoped as a possible location for Peter Jackson’s movie trilogy, <i>Lord of the Rings</i>. Donn designed and installed a hydro electricity system by tapping into a local stream, generating more than enough power for their needs. He and Mary organised workshops for local people interested in adopting the relatively simple, energy-efficient mud brick construction process and ‘Waheke Mud’ was soon well-known in the district and beyond. Donn believed that sharing this low-cost construction method had the potential to ease the housing crisis that bedevils most countries, including New Zealand.<br />
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<span>The Groom mud brick house at Taheke (Photo: Michael Meadows)</span></div>
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<span> </span>Donn’s love of the sea enticed him to build another, albeit smaller, yacht in his backyard shed — an old-style bay sailer — despite managing to accidentally saw off his left thumb and first finger during construction. The vessel had a relatively short sailing life when it was damaged by another boat which broke its moorings during a storm.<br />
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<span> </span>I had drifted away from climbing for two decades while Donn was exploring the world but we reconnected in 2003 when I started gathering material for my book on Australian climbing history — at the same time that I reconnected with rockclimbing. Donn and his former climbing partner, Les Wood, were amongst the first people I wanted to interview. In fact, my inquiries put them back in touch with each other again after a break of more than 30 years. Donn and I exchanged telephone calls and emails across the Tasman and, in his own inimitable way, he outlined his practical and philosophical approach to adventure and the importance of mountain landscapes in his life. A few years later — with both of his dodgy knees now replaced — he returned to Brisbane for a visit and in typical fashion, had agreed to a trip up Mount Barney to test them out. This time three generations of the Groom family — Donn, Michael and Michael’s son, Harry — were there, along with Donn’s longtime climbing partner and friend, John Larkin. Halfway up Logan’s Ridge, Donn asked me to take a photograph of him attempting to climb a small overhang. ‘I’m sending this to my surgeon,’ he laughed. ‘He said I’d never be able to do anything like this again!’<br />
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<span>Testing his new knees, Logan's Ridge, Mount Barney, March 2007 (Photo: Michael Meadows) </span></div>
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<span> </span>Donn always welcomed others into the close-knit world of climbing and he inspired many of us to explore the outdoors with enthusiasm, passion and humour. What struck me most about him in those early days — and it remained a central part of his character — was his humility. Throughout the late 1960s and 1970s, I saw him often on my regular visits to the climbing cliff he had developed at Binna Burra. I have strong memories of sharing a late afternoon beer after a day on the rock, our legs dangling over a significant drop beneath the unfenced veranda of his house which was typically built into the side of a cliff. Tragically, bushfires in November last year destroyed both the house and Binna Burra lodge although there are plans to rebuild both.<br />
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<span> </span>It was almost almost 50 years ago — two days before Christmas in 1972 — that Donn persuaded Ted Cais and I into joining him on the first descent of the Coomera Gorge from its source. It was a serious and committing canyon that required us to jump or abseil down sizeable waterfalls into deep, dark pools, knowing that it would be extremely difficult or impossible to climb out. Somehow we made it through, using some innovative anchors and I remember Ted’s furrowed brow on more than one occasion as we worked out how to proceed. But with Donn at the helm, it was merely another adventure. He managed to lug his precious Mamiya camera through it all unscathed. The memories of that extraordinary day have remained vivid in my mind.<br />
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<span>With his trusty Mamiya 2 1/4 square camera in the Coomera River, 23 December 1972 </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span>(Photo Michael Meadows)</span></div>
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<span>Abseilng into the unknown with Ted Cais watching on the first descent </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span>of the Coomera Gorge, 23 December 1972 (Photo: Michael Meadows) </span></div>
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<span> </span>The term ‘icon’ is bandied around a lot these days but it perfectly describes Donn Groom — the pre-eminent figure in postwar climbing in Queensland — and it reflects the multilayered contributions he has made to broader climbing and mountaineering culture. But Donn was much, much more than a climber — he was a pioneering adventurer, photographer, writer, innovator and sailor, with all of these pursuits and passions imbued with generosity, humility and humour.<br />
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<span>Mount Geryon, Du Cane Range, Central Highlands of Tasmania (Photo: Donn Groom)</span></div>
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<span> </span>Reflecting on his life in 2014, Donn summed up the powerful link between himself and the landscape — and the myriad ways that lives become interconnected, intertwined through shared experiences of the natural world. He wrote:<br />
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Dad was a climber of the Bertie Salmon era and also did not use ropes. His sandshoes on extra large feet were almost as tight on him as modern rock shoes, so he had to cut holes to relieve pressure on his toes. This was a trick I used for quite some time until I was introduced to rock boots by Les Wood. Les had a huge influence on my climbing. He was a superb climber brought up in the UK and was influenced by climbers such as Joe Brown and Don Whillans. He used lots of their rock climbing techniques and equipment and introduced these ideas to Queensland climbers. We got along well together, our styles complementing each other. His great climbing ability often had me struggling as I seconded. Occasionally, I was able to help out on the face climbing which I enjoyed. I learnt a lot from Les and was sorry to see our team split up when we went to different parts of the world. Perhaps my greatest satisfaction in the climbing scene was in passing on my love of climbing to my son Michael when he came to visit while I was living in Alaska. Mike was into motocross bike racing at the time, but very frustrated with the expense and fierce competitive atmosphere of the sport. He was looking for something new. At the end of my climbing career, with bad knees and developing arthritis, I took him up a few alpine peaks in Alaska and on his return home to Australia, I gave him crampons and an ice axe for his 21st birthday. Almost the next letter from him had him setting out for Kanchenjunga and a climbing career that I had only dreamt of. While history did not repeat itself exactly, the genetic repetition running through our family certainly did. And, it all started on the sunny crags of Southeast Queensland…</blockquote>
Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-9121827059480091552020-05-25T12:26:00.004+10:002020-05-25T12:26:51.881+10:00Limits of the known -- book review by Paul Caffyn<div style="text-align: center;">
Title: Limits of the Known<br />Author: David Roberts<br />Published: 2018<br />Publisher: W.W. Norton UK<br />Website: www.wwnorton.com<br />Contents: 306 pp; no photos, 2 maps<br />Cover: hardbound<br />Price: $36.46 Book Depository UK<br />ISBN: 978-0-393-60986-8<br />Review: Paul Caffyn</div>
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<br /><br />David Roberts is not a bad mountaineering adventure writer. His first book titled The Mountain of My Fear was published in 1966, a gripping yarn of four young university students having a go at the committing west face of Mt Huntington in a remote Alaskan range. From that classic tome of a first blooding with a serious face climb, he went on to author another 27 books about mountaineering, polar exploration, history and anthropology. The closest one to New Zealand being an account of Douglas Mawson’s Antarctic expedition and his incredible survival story (Alone on the Ice 2013).<br /><br />His latest book and sadly probably his last, is an exploration of what drives the human race to tackle adventures. A prologue relates a 2015 trip by the two surviving members of that first 1966 Alaskan mission back to Talkeetna marking the 50th anniversary of the climb. Talkeetna is an end of road accessible airstrip from where climbers gather to wait for weather to fly in for climbing the likes of McKinley (Denali) or unclimbed virgins. <br /><br />David noticed a lump on the side of his neck but is assured by his mate it is only a cyst. However, it is not a cyst, and back in the big smoke, a round of scans and biopsies reveal aggressive throat cancer. Rounds of both chemotherapy and radiation leave him a shadow of his former self, barely able to walk a city block with the aid of a stick.<br /><br />After the initial prologue, David moves onto an assessment of Fridtjof Nansen and what drove him to design a boat what would survive crushing in the Arctic Ice and lead the Fram expedition, which involved sailing the vessel into the ice north of Bering Strait, and then hoping the westward drift of the ice pack would take Fram closer to the North Pole than any other expedition had been. Once Nansen realized the drift would not take them anywhere near the pole, he set off with one companion, a dog team, provisions for a couple of months and two collapsible kayaks. Nansen was keen to attain the North Pole. Long story, but it is a remarkable eight-month story of survival in a winter wasteland of ice. And the Fram eventually was released from the ice pack’s clutches, returning to Norway not long after Nansen and Johansen also returned to civilization.<br /><br />The second chapter is titled Blank on the Map and if you have read the book by the same name, it is about Eric Shipton and what drove him to his ‘untraveled world’ of Asian mountain ranges, glaciers and valleys that had not been previously sighted by Westerners. Shipton was a member of five Mount Everest expeditions between 1933 and 1951 but didn’t have much time for the big military style organized mountain conquests. Shipton and his mate Bill Tilman pioneered the lightweight expedition style. ‘If it couldn’t be planned on the back of an envelope, it wasn’t worth doing’.<br /><br />Although I was expecting further chapters on more of the most famous adventurer/explorers, David Roberts moves onto a burgeoning interest in the ancient cliff dwellers of the USA south-west, the people who ground steps out of steep sandstone buttresses providing access to granaries and where they lived. Roberts wrote several books about his research into the remote gorges and mesas, but this seemed to diverge from what I saw as the overall slant of the book, what drove adventurers to do what they did.<br /><br />The First Descent chapter was of more interest to me, with tales of white-water and rafting adventures that David was tasked to cover as a writer. Particularly in this chapter he writes about how the degree of commitment with expeditions has changed, from the 50s and 60s when even a written letter may have taken months to reach civilization and chance of rescue was zilch, to these days with blogs updated nightly with photos and text and a helicopter evacuation is only a sat phone call away.<br /><br />The First Contact chapter has much on gold exploration in New Guinea in the 30s, and how the natives viewed sometimes quite savage encounters with the white miners. The Undiscovered Earth chapter is about caving and the challenge of seeking the deepest (and the longest) hole in the world. New Zealand’s big caves don’t rate a mention but having been the geologist on a 1973 expedition to the highlands of western New Guinea, which was tagged ‘The Search for the Deepest Hole in the World’, I thoroughly enjoyed being brought up to date with the international challenge to get a depth record. <br /><br />His last chapter titled The Future of Exploration pulls all the threads together, his terrible time with treatment for the throat cancer and the evil cancer metastasis into lung nodules. Writing seems to be his salvation from a physical body slowing down, even though he can’t type anymore and has to either write long hand or dictate to his wife Sharon. The last few paragraphs are tear jerkers.<br /><br />Apart from an author mugshot on the inside of the dustjacket, there are no photos at all, just two rather small-scale maps that you need a microscope to read the place names. <br /><br />With most of David Robert’s mountaineering and polar books in my collection, I thoroughly enjoyed his new tome, though saddened and sympathetic to learn of his fight with cancer. <br /><br />Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-25768619013318569792020-01-20T15:11:00.004+10:002022-02-22T14:22:31.895+10:00Farewell to a quiet achiever...<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Rudolf Edmund 'Ted' Cais</b></h2>
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12 November 1947 — 20 December 2019</h2>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Ted in fine form at Frog Buttress in 1998 (Michael Meadows collection)</span></div>
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From his first tentative steps on to the rock as a teenager in south-east Queensland in 1960 until he emigrated to the USA in 1974, Ted Cais pushed Australian climbing standards to new heights. Although not as adept at — or indeed as interested in — marketing his personal achievements like some of his peers, he nevertheless leaves behind an unforgettable legacy of bold and visionary climbing routes, but perhaps more importantly, layers of camaraderie and personal experience that extend well beyond climbing into everyday life. <br />
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Perhaps the major influence on Ted's early life was his father, Rudi, who fled Czechosolvakia as a university student when the Nazis invaded during World War II. He fought in the free Czech forces before escaping to England to join a tank regiment and it was there that he met Ted's mother, Joy. They married and moved back to Prague after the war where Ted was born in an army hospital. But when the communists took control of the country in 1948, life became difficult for Rudi because of his background. It was then that they managed to emigrate to Australia where Ted — who would be their only child — recalled days living on a cattle station in Queensland’s Gulf Country:<br />
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There I had a gentle old mare to ride about on, bare backed of course, lethal snakes to avoid, giant spiders dropping off the ceiling at night, crocodiles lurking in the fresh-water creek, hot sand with bindi-eye stickers to cross barefoot, brilliant stars like never before or since, and suffocating, humid heat. The galvanized iron roof would creak and crack ominously at night during contraction after the blazing sub-tropical sun set. There was no electricity so our lighting was by acetylene lamps; a primitive outpost that by its very nature built self-reliance.</blockquote>
In 1955, the Cais family moved to Brisbane where Rudi — a skilled carpenter — built the family a house at Mt Gravatt, then on the fringes of the capital. Ted's father worked as a taxi driver for most of his life in Brisbane. He was a voracious reader and could debate anyone on almost any topic from economics to the Markoff chain — a mathematical probability theory that started Ted off on his own successful career as a research chemist. Rudi was a brilliant chess player — teaching Ted the art — and on Sundays when a group (including expatriate British climber Les Wood) would gather at the Cais family home — then at West End — Rudi would deliver food to them every few hours while he played chess with up to six different opponents simultaneously. It was around this time — the mid-1960s — that climbing started to feature more prominently in Ted's life. But in his own words, his interest in outdoor adventures began some years earlier with a chance meeting:<br />
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Around 1960 I was introduced to Bert (Albert Armitage) Salmon who kindly passed on his trove of knowledge about the Glass House Mountains, Scenic Rim and walking tracks around the Binna Burra and O'Reilly's lodges on the Lamington Plateau. Walking was a simple affair, outfitted with an army surplus canvas satchel and sandshoes. We had no GPS, cell phone, walking poles, rescue choppers or other conveniences now deemed necessary for a safe outdoors experience. Our bush icons were Bernard O'Reilly and Arthur Groom, and I still have their classic books, <i>Green Mountains and Cullenbenbong</i> and <i>One Mountain After Another</i>. They were early recreational explorers naturally imbued with a love of the land and rugged pioneer spirit so thought little of heading off solo into the unknown with just a few supplies on their back. We were slightly better equipped through Paddy Pallin whose gear was available at the Scout Shop in the Valley although not as cheap as army surplus. Canvas and cotton (waxed or oiled) were still the best materials at the time and I remember my first Hotham down bag that ensured toasty nights.</blockquote>
Undoubtedly influenced by Salmon, on 9 October 1960 — a few weeks before his 13th birthday — Ted made a solo ascent of Crookneck's steep, loose, crumbling North Face. It was the first ascent route by Harry Mikalsen in 1910 and this information would have almost certainly been passed on by Salmon. Ted recalls the moment:<br />
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My dad knew Czechoslovakian emigre farmers who scrabbled an existence out of a pineapple farm in the Glasshouse mountains and we often visited them. Something about the gnarly scowl and impressive rock wave feature shimmering through the heat haze halfway up Crookneck's north-west side proved irresistible. The basic desire was not so much technical rock gymnastics but getting to the summit of these enigmatic rock monoliths. After all, I had to find out what was on top! I repeated this solo ascent at least five more times and the most memorable one was just after a bushfire had raged over the entire mountain rendering the grass trees along the summit ridge into smouldering blackened stumps. They survived of course and will outlast all of us. To this day the scent of burning bush has a most evocative effect. </blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Climbing as a teenager in the Glass House Mountains (Ted Cais collection)</span></div>
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His first climb with Bert Salmon was the East Face of Beerwah in the Glass House Mountains on 14 October 1961. Over the next several years, Salmon introduced the eager young adventurer to all of the easily accessible summits in south-east Queensland. But by 1964, Ted began to drift away from his mentor’s influence. He joined the YMCA Ramblers bushwalking club to continue his fascination with south-east Queensland crags and to extend his climbing skills on the Kangaroo Point training cliffs using a safety rope — something Salmon frowned upon as unethical. During his undergraduate years, he joined the influential University of Queensland Bushwalking Club (UQBWC) where he met others who would help to shape his pathway into climbing:<br />
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I also teamed up with Craig Rowley and Dennis Stocks for ascents of the Mast [The Steamers] and Glennies [Pulpit] and later climbed with Hugh Pechey who was president of the Brisbane Rockclimbing Club in 1965. Bert’s legacy stayed with me for some time but in some respects inhibited my development since it was hard to lead the more difficult climbs of the day with the 'no fall' maxim he imbued. This conservative approach required three static points of contact with the rock at all time limiting climbing to about grade 12. My new heroes became Ron Cox and Pat Conaghan of the UQBWC whose exploits I read about in the annual UQBWC magazine, <i>Heybob</i>. I then started climbing with John Tillack when I was an undergraduate at the University of Queensland and my standard accelerated to keep up with his natural ability. </blockquote>
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Despite his break with Salmon, Ted always respected his mentor’s willingness to share his knowledge and passion of the Queensland bush:<br />
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He bequeathed me his priceless collection of photograph albums and I am ashamed to have let these disappear in some dusty archive … they properly belong in a Queensland historical archive.</blockquote>
It is a request — voiced again during his last days — that remains to be fulfilled. <br />
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Bert Salmon was one of three major climbing influences Ted identified in his life. The second was expatriate British climber, Les Wood. Les spent just 12 months in Queensland in 1966 and pushed climbing limits here to the equal of anything in the country. It was at this time that Ted began to realise his ambition and abilities as a climber and Les was one who encouraged him to follow his passion. Les recalls that young Ted wasn’t into climbing all that much when they first met in 1966 — but by year’s end, things had changed significantly. Ted re-calls the shift:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Les taught me boldness even though we did only about a dozen climbs together during 1966, his single year of influence, when he coaxed me upwards into the grade 16 zone. He brought his experience of British climbing to Australia and quickly applied this by pushing standards in the Glasshouses.</blockquote>
Les had the same effect on a young Ron Farmer and others including Lance Rutherford, when they met by chance on the East Face of Tibrogargan. <br />
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Donn Groom was a central figure in Queensland climbing culture at this time. One of the founding members of the Brisbane Rockclimbing Club (BRC) in 1965, he partnered Les on many of his memorable and still classic new routes around south-east Queensland. But when Donn left for an extended climbing trip to Tasmania, Ted linked up with Les for a blitzkrieg of memorable second ascents, including the imposing <i>East Crookneck</i> — their first climb together. It was a route that Les and Donn had climbed virtually free a few months earlier. Next was <i>Clemency</i> on the east face of Tibrogargan — 'a very competent lead', according to the perfunctory notes in Les Wood’s diary. Coming from the circumspect Brit, it was the ultimate compliment. Ted later described the challenges of climbing <i>Clemency</i> and its significance at the time:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The lousy protection, thoughtful balance moves, difficult route finding and problematic escape make it a memorable classic in the grade. At the time it was a tour de force and rivalled <i>Lieben</i> on Crater Bluff in the Warrumbungles as a breakthrough.</blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Repeating <i>Clemency</i> with Greg Sheard in the late 1990s (Michael Meadows collection)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">After <i>Clemency</i>: (from left) Ted, Greg Sheard, Ron Farmer, Bryden Cais (Michael Meadows collection)</span></div>
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The impacts on his life and climbing ambitions extended beyond south-east Queensland:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
At this time other huge influences by their accomplishments and writings were Bryden Allen with his guide,<i> Rockclimbs of NSW,</i> and John Ewbank with his articles in <i>Thrutch</i>. <i>Lieben</i> (17) and <i>Heartstopper</i> (18) became the ultimate hard routes to aspire to. Our ropes were still laid (twisted cable) nylon and we usually carried a Stubai peg hammer with half a dozen blades and channels. Under Les's influence we also started supplementing this vast rack with brass machine nuts and ball-bearing races threaded on rope as our first primitive chocks.</blockquote>
When the fledgling Brisbane Rockclimbing Club published its collection of archival documents at the end of 1966, Ted's name was on 13 of the 45 listed climbing trip reports — the highest single contributor — including a range of second ascents and new exploratory routes in the Glasshouses, Binna Burra and The Steamers. He swung leads with Donn Groom on the first free ascents of Queensland’s hardest climbs — Donn’s own routes, <i>Alcheringa</i> at Binna Burra, and <i>Flameout</i> on the south west buttress of Crookneck. Ted had emerged not only as a leading, enthusiastic and skilled climber, but also as an accomplished writer and artist with many of the BRC climbing guide sheets over ensuing years a result of his careful and creative hand. His penchant for producing pithy cartoons of various moments was a testament to his wide-ranging creative skills. But it was climbing that was increasingly taking up more of his time:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
A dilemma that surfaced fully around this period was the conflict of continuing university to become a research scientist (my dad's dream) versus dropping out to be a full time climber (my dream). My intense mental dedication to climbing in 1966 caused me to have to repeat second year at University in 1967. And so this cycle continued with my oscillation from periods of hard climbing only to retire, hit the books, struggle through final exams and then back to bushwalking as a prelude to getting into shape for climbing again. </blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A bold 'lead' of <i>Olos</i> at Kangaroo Point in 1968 (Ted Cais collection)</span></div>
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On 7 January 1968, his climbing ambitions received another major fillip when he met Rick White, crossing paths at the Kangaroo Point cliffs. Immensely fit and strong after a summer of working as a labourer, Ted virtually soloed <i>Cox's Overhang</i> that day, using just one runner and impressing those of us present with his steely resolve and the power to do one-arm chin-ups. He soloed <i>Olos</i> around this time as well and led the fiery <i>Pterodactyl</i> (18) on sight with Dave Reeve, inspiring a blossoming of new routes at KP which, since the late 1940s, had always been considered a practice cliff. This visionary shift resulted in it eventually becoming a popular sports climbing destination. But as Ted recalled in 2002, it was Rick White who pushed him to greater heights:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Rick taught me mental stamina. Although I had raw power and technique I still suffered a nervous disposition lacking enough self confidence to fulfill my true potential. Rick on the other hand was tough and blessed with vision and mental drive. I drifted with the tide vacillating between climbing and studies but he had a plan with goals and worked to achieve them. We complemented each other well and several times on new routes I would figure out the technical moves only to back off and have Rick punch the route through to the finish. More often we were friendly rivals and I usually was the first one to repeat Rick’s new routes at Frog Buttress, although Barry Overs filled this role for a while.</blockquote>
His first major new route with Rick was the classic jamB crack, <i>Infinity</i> (19) at the newly-discovered crag, Frog Buttress, on 7 December 1968. It is akin to the classic <i>Eternity</i> at Wirindi in the Blue Mountains. Ted always had his own strong ideas about climbing and its broader connection with bushwalking and the environment and this passion compelled him to seek out more challenging and inaccessible destinations rather than being content with ticking off new routes at Frog Buttress. He readily joined with other climbers of the era for various adventures including the authors, Greg Sheard, Ian Cameron, Lance Rutherford, Ross 'Cecil' Allen and John Leah.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> He was always up for an adventure: Red Rock Gorge, Black Canyon, Lamington National Park, 1969 (Michael Meadows collection)</span></div>
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Ted supported Rick White's introduction of a clean climbing ethic into Queensland, coinciding with the increasing availability of jamB protection, aluminium 'crackers' initially made and sold by John Ewbank, later replaced by the lighter and better designed American Chouinard hexentrics. This period — in the late 1960s — saw Ted re-thinking his 'old-school' approach to climbing.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I finally started systematic training for climbing mostly with free weights as an extension of my olympic weightlifting at University. These weights were home made from 1 inch [2.5 cm] steel discs cut out to make portholes in ships' plates that we 'borrowed' from a local shipyard. Hundreds of pounds of these unwieldy monsters were clandestinely dragged through the impossible slime of the Brisbane riverbank mud and into a small getaway row-boat that almost sank under the excess ballast. We also started circuit training at the University gym (a curious British commando regimen, it seemed) and eventually enjoyed true bouldering on the rough gritstone of the Tarragindi boulders.</blockquote>
Ron, a fellow student, accompanied Ted on these training activities. Ted had such power that usually he could complete each exercise set twice in the time Ron did one. It was typical of Ted's generosity that he saved one exercise until last. This required ascending a thick old rope hand-over-hand style without using legs for assistance and where Ted always lost. His weight-lifting skills were unexpectedly called into action on one of several exploratory trips to recce a possible new route on the north face of Mount Warning where the longest climb in Australia, <i>Lost Boys</i>, was later established. Ted stopped for a beer at the Tyalgum pub where he proceeded to deadlift a huge boulder from the floor onto the bar, thereby winning a free beer, much to the chagrin of the wide-eyed locals.<br />
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Rick White had moved onto the big walls in preparation for his historic Yosemite visit, still some years away, but Ted always considered his forte to be short, highly technical routes. He also dabbled with aid climbing over the years but saw it as far too restrictive. His new aid routes included KP's <i>Hanger Wall</i> (with Neil Lamb and Pat Conaghan in 1966), the first pitch of the <i>Beerwah bolt route</i> (with Pete Giles in 1967), <i>Barnacle Buttress</i> and <i>Wages of Fear</i> (both in 1968 at KP with Pete Giles and John Pickard respectively) and finally a quartzite roof in Brisbane’s western suburbs, <i>Tarantula</i>. <br />
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But Ted’s love of exploration — with a climbing edge — always seemed to have more pull, luring him back to rarely-visited slopes and faces in the Glasshouses and elsewhere for potential routes — or merely for the experience. It was how he discovered Queensland’s second longest climb — <i>Dreadnought</i> — a multi-pitch trad route:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Located on the south-east wall of Tibrogargan and a wonderful first-ascent outing in May 1970 with my longtime friend Mike Meadows. Actually I coveted a new route up the steeper and blanker section to the right that I was already calling Microjug Wall. Still, <i>Dreadnought</i> was more reasonable fun even though we found old engine valves driven in the lower section from some past failed attempt. Mike even led a tricky bit after I backed off but after that I got revving and everything fell in place.</blockquote>
On that climb, Ted and Michael camped in Cave Two on Tibrogargan overnight and it was there that they met a youthful Ian Thomas for the first time. The friendships forged on that day have remained strong ever since. Earlier that year Ted joined Donn Groom and Michael Meadows for a committing first descent of the Coomera Gorge from its source.<br />
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For all of us at this time, climbing was inexorably embedded in a passion for various forms of motor transport, with Ted often leading the charge:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Other interesting diversions for me included exotic motorcycles such as the Velocette Clubman, CZ scrambler and pristine Matchless 500 single I fully restored. The Meadows brothers also got me into rallying and I cultivated an affection for old Peugeot cars, particularly the 203. Rally-proficient cars featured prominently in the early Frog exploration days as the access road was dirt with several pinches that became extremely challenging in the wet. Rick too was not mainstream in his choice of vehicles and in particular his classic Citroen Light 15 was just the ticket to blast up the greasy clay hill in reverse as the final recourse to getting in.</blockquote>
Ted thoroughly enjoyed exploratory four wheel drive trips with Ron during their time together as PhD students in Chemistry. These ranged from what is now called Red Cliffs through the lower Glass House Mountains peaks and on extended trips to places such as Double Island Point and Fraser Island. Ted tackled photography with the same intensity and perfectionism characteristic of his other activities and a wide range of high quality camera brands — Leica, Rollei, Miranda — came into contact with the pair of white silk gloves he always insisted on wearing to protect them.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> White silk gloves always kept his cameras clean, regardless of the rest of his body (Michael Meadows collection)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Astride his immaculately-restored Velocette Clubman (Ted Cais collection)</span></div>
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Back on the rock, he joined with Rick to open a new climbing area on the south eastern flank of Mount Maroon — Maggies Farm — climbing several hard new routes there on the mixed cracks and faces. Australia’s first national climbing meet at Porter’s Pass in the Blue Mountains at Easter, 1973, saw Ted demonstrate his expertise as the first Queensland climber up several Mount Piddington classic routes. One stand-out was his second ascent of the 'spooky' Ewbank wall climb, <i>The Minotaur</i>. In the lead-up to the Blue Mountains trip, Ted and Rick had partnered to climb several imposing new routes at Frog Buttress — <i>Black Light</i>, C<i>hild in Time</i> and <i>Badfinger</i> — as well as making the first clean ascents of <i>Odin</i>, <i>Erg</i> and <i>Pollux</i>.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Ian Thomas lured into abseiling from a very rusty bolt with frayed blind cord from Ted's Indooroopilly house veranda with Michael Meadows looking on (Ted Cais collection)</span></div>
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After Porter’s Pass, Rick headed off to Yosemite and in other climbing directions with Ted seeking out new regular climbing companions: ‘I started climbing more with the feisty Humzoo (Ian Thomas) who approximated Don Whillans in build and temperament (at least according to what we read about Whillans).’<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Ian Thomas and Ted contemplate another memorable FFA at Frog Buttress in 1973 (Ted Cais collection)</span></div>
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The combination seemed to encourage Ted's penchant for pranks to new heights and his close friends — including all three authors — suffered multiple indiscretions over the years from electrified doorknobs, a dead cat down a chimney, rotting crab shells hidden under a rear car seat at the height of summer (the car had to be sold as scrap!), holes punched through plaster walls, dousing a motorbike helmet with the foul-smelling and highly inflammable ethyl mercaptan, being left behind to survive on pippies on some remote beach, unexpectedly pushed into hedges, and the inevitable avalanche of dirt, leaves and twigs that would shower down on his climbing partners as they negotiated the crux of a route — all accompanied by his maniacal laughter. Strangely, his appetite for humour seemed to evaporate when the tables were turned!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The young chemist in his laboratory preparing another evil concoction to test out on his 'mates' (Michael Meadows collection)</span></div>
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Ted, Ron and Michael once went in search of a lost aeroplane around the southern side of Mt Lindesay, ending up climbing to the summit and down to a shelf on the south-west side for lunch, watching the eagles soar beneath. On returning to Ted's Indooroopilly house, he decided he needed to top up the liquid nitrogen in one of his experiments, so they took off for the university via the local dump for some makeshift rally driving in his Peugeot 203 on a dirt, glass-covered track that encircled the tip. Ted thought that Ron’s predicament of being thrown around on a petrol drum seat in the back while the back doors flew open was hilarious. A few wide bridging moves saved the day. They had wondered why Ted's housemate and fellow scientist Mark Sceats had not joined them: now they knew! Several unsuspecting visiting interstate climbers were also lured into a circuit of the dump in the back of Ted's Peugeot (sans seating) on more than one occasion.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Another trip to the Indooroopilly dump for spurious reasons (Ted Cais collection)</span></div>
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Before he left Australia, significant first and second ascents abound: think about climbs like <i>Clockwork Orange</i>, <i>Venom</i>, <i>Juggernaut</i> and many more — lots more. Observers were always astounded at his strength and his technical footwork. On 6 April 1974 as he was about to launch into the final stages of his PhD — a complex mathematical treatise on polymers — he made his last Australian climb before emigrating to the USA: the first free lead of Rick White’s <i>Conquistador</i> at Frog Buttress, Queensland’s first grade 21:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
After that I hung up my boots and made the final concerted effort to finish my PhD and depart for America to become a permanent exile. There I met John Stannard who was the last major influence on my climbing. He was a reticent purist whose efforts defined the Shawangunks as the Eastern-U.S. haven for adventure trad climbers but then this chapter of my life is another story.</blockquote>
Ted's PhD Thesis, 'The copolymerization of vinyl chloride with sulphur dioxide', was monumental in size, as well as comprehensive in both theoretical and experimental accomplishments. <br />
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But away from the research labs in the US, he soon established his reputation as a climber of note in the 'Gunks where his partner was the legendary John Stannard, 'Hot' Henry Barber’s muse. Ted managed a fine ascent of the amazing <i>Foops</i> — a climb akin to <i>Kachoong</i> at Mount Arapiles — but on steroids! He was admired by the uber-hero of bouldering, John Gill, the person who invented that modern, extreme incarnation of the sport, by introducing a training and gymnastics' attitude to ascents — an approach that was right up Ted's alley. One of Ted's old climbing mates from his Australian days, George Harrison, also joined him for some climbing in the ‘Gunks. <br />
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Ted's day job was as a research chemist, specialising in the development of compounds which stung, stank or stained and all three of us — his close ‘mates’ — unwittingly became experimental subjects before he left Australian shores! In the USA, he initially worked for Bell Laboratories, later moving to Mitsubishi Chemical America. As his research and development expertise continued to expand, he produced seven patented products and processes as the lead inventor. One of these was for work done at Bell Laboratories with the rest resulting from his work with Mitsubishi. After Xerox was forced to license its patents, he was involved in research that extending photocopying technology. Ted's other patents were also applicable to this field. He published a considerable body of academic work in peer reviewed professional literature, two with Ron as a co-author. Ted's published papers rose from two in 1975 to a peak in 1984, followed by the typical slow decline as he became a senior researcher with expanded responsibilities. His last paper in polymer chemistry was published in 2001. His most heavily referenced paper has had 198 citations.<br />
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Despite his scientific achievements, his passion for climbing and outdoor adventure was never far away. On a return holiday visit to Australia in 1980, he roped two of the authors (Michael and Ron) into an attempt on Vidler’s Chimney on the eastern side of Mount Lindesay. Climbed just once before in 1954 by a team of four (including John Comino) from UQBWC, Ted had obsessed about a second ascent. Needless to say, the almost vertical, loose dirt slopes inside the chimney, coupled with endless rope tangles, soon dissuaded us from pursuing it beyond the second pitch. But it was another adventure and it summed up Ted Cais to a tee.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> On the slopes of Mount Lindesay in 1980 (Michael Meadows collection)</span></div>
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His regular visits back to Queensland every few years saw him link up with his old climbing buddies (and some new ones) for a day or two on the rock. His level of fitness and strength seemed to remain at an extraordinarily high level throughout that time, stemming from his consistent climbing activity across the Pacific:<br />
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During a visit back to Australia in 1987 I was in my best climbing form ever, having worked up to the 5.12s in the ‘Gunks. So I had this glorious day with Rick and Mike at Frog under a perfect blue Queensland sky cruising up some classics awash in waves of nostalgia watching Cap’n Fists jam away like in some time warp and wishing I could stay. One always appreciates things more by their absence.</blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> He was always at home on fierce, technical crimpers (Michael Meadows collection)</span></div>
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On other trips he revisited <i>Clemency</i> with Greg Sheard and in May 2003, after a warm up at Kangaroo Point, attempted <i>Air Time over Pumistone</i> with Phil Box, followed a few days later by a trip to Glennies Pulpit for a wonderful day out. Michele, Rick, Cass Crane, Cameron Featherstone and Phil participated in some of these adventures.<br />
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Typically, Ted always felt that some of his more memorable climbs were those that he never completed once musing: 'It is often instructive to learn from our failures as success only seems to confirm our bad habits.' He was a self-confessed follower of the ethics of the period rather than a trendsetter but like Frog Buttress’s principal developer — Rick White — railed against bolts being used there. He believed to the end that the possibility of keeping it as Australia’s great clean-climbing crag was an opportunity lost. <br />
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Ted Cais was always more concerned with quality — of the moment, the experience, the friendships — rather than quantity. He never publicised his climbing achievements, always valuing camaraderie above all else. The climb was most often secondary to the strong relationships he maintained despite spending the last decades of his life on the other side of the world. He had a confident personal philosophy that enabled him to make sense of his life experiences, even including those infuriating pranks directed at his closest friends. A deeply intellectual thinker, he was aware of global trends and when he retired, sought out a simple life in Arizona with his second wife, Michele, and their beloved dogs. He once wrote: 'One great maxim of life is to "know thyself" and climbing is an excellent medium for attaining self knowledge by training the quiet mind. Fitness and mental equilibrium are added benefits that enhance the quality of life.' <br />
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His pancreatic cancer diagnosis came barely five weeks before his death. In typical style, Ted shared with his family and close friends his decision to eschew chemotherapy because of the scientific uncertainties around its curative claims coupled with the medical certainty of the inevitable poor quality of life that would ensue. To the very end he was lucid, sharp-witted and as always, offered a brutally honest yet skilfully adept take on current issues. Ian Thomas was one of the few of his Australian mates who visited him several times in his modest home in Benson and Ted’s appreciation was patently obvious — devising a particularly intricate prank that resulted in Ian falling from a boulder problem into a patch of spiny cactus and rolling into the foul-smelling den of a pack of Javelinas, creatures with the longest canines of any mammal in North America: an ultimate acknowledgement of friendship! <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A reunion at the Dugandan Hotel near Frog Buttress in 1998</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(from left) Michael Meadows, Ted, Greg Sheard and Ian 'Humzoo' Thomas (Michael Meadows collection)</span></div>
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Despite the decades and tens of thousands of kilometres that separated us, whenever any of us spoke to him either in person or electronically, it was as if we had seen each other barely days before. He maintained a strong email correspondence with several long-time friends and the contents of these covered a broad range of topics. Each topic was treated with customary thoroughness and depth. They are truly a rare treasure to those blessed with his thoughtfulness and strength of spirit. And when we sat together after a day’s climbing on the verandah of the Dugandan Hotel on one of his Australian visits, the memories and stories flowed freely — like the cold beer. It was as if he had never left and to an extent, remains so. Indeed, it was one of these moments that was the catalyst that led to the research and writing of the Australian climbing history book, <i>The Living Rock</i>. <br />
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He is survived by his first wife Kirsten, their two children Bryden and Carly, and his second wife, Michele.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A recent picture of Ted with one of his many epicurean passions -- cheese (Michele Cais collection)</span></div>
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His passing is a reminder of the significance of an extraordinary period in Australian climbing history in which he played a central role. It is particularly poignant as those characters who defined that era are gradually slipping away. Despite his long physical absence from these shores, Ted’s contribution to Australian climbing culture should be remembered for what it was — a visionary, far-reaching impact that placed people and experiences above all else. He never sought the limelight and yet his achievements and influence deserve as much recognition as anyone of that era. <br />
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Ted Cais is arguably the best unknown climber that Australia has ever produced. A high-achieving scientist who craved adventure. He thought deeply about ethics. He worked out. He was a master boulderer. He was an off-width monster. He was an aggressive prankster with a one-sided sense of humour. And he was our good mate. <br />
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Rest in peace ‘cobber’.<br />
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<b>Ian Thomas, Ron Farmer and Michael Meadows</b><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>AFTERWORD...</b></div><div><br /></div><div>On 21 February 2022, one of Ted's climbing partners from his time in the Shawanagunks in New York State -- Herb Gaidus -- had only just come across the news of Ted's death and tried unsuccessfully to post a message. He contacted me directly and here it is...Michael.</div><div><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div><p style="color: #535353; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;">Just found this post, and am saddened to hear the news that my former climbing buddy from the Gunks has passed away. Michael Meadows, you have written a truly moving and informative tribute.</span></p>
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<p style="font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;">I met Ted at the Gunks circa 1987 while climbing with my buddy Edmund Zimmerer. Ted documents this in one line on his post at <a href="https://rokrover.blogspot.com/2012/03/shawangunk-climbing.html?m=1"><span>https://rokrover.blogspot.com/2012/03/shawangunk-climbing.html?m=1</span></a></span></p>
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<p style="font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;">He was an amazingly accomplished and gracious guy, as well as an awesome climber.</span></p><p style="font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p>
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<p style="font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: times;">Photo circa 1987 - Ted Cais, Edmund Zimmerer, Herb Gaidus near the Yellow Wall in the Trapps</span></i></p>
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<p style="color: #535353; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="color: #535353; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times;"><br />At the time, I was about 29, Edmund was 34, and Ted was 39. As such, he was known to us, and embraced the moniker "gramps"</span><p></p>
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<p style="font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;">On his 40th birthday, after a day of climbing at the Casa Emilio block at the Trapps, Ted took us all out to dinner at the Conca D'oro in New Paltz. A grand time was had by all.</span></p>
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<p style="font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;">As you detailed in your post, he also enjoyed a good prank. I fell victim to at least one that I recall where after a two mile approach, I found that my climbing pack had been burdened by an additional 10# of rocks, courtesy of Ted.</span></p>
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<p style="font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;">We did manage to reciprocate however. Later in the day, while swatting flies from my leg during lunch, I found that I could amass quite a collection of nearly intact fly carcasses. Edmund helped me, and before long we had generated a small mountain of fly carcasses that somehow found their way into the toe box of Ted's right climbing shoe. The look on Ted's face when he squeezed his foot into the shoe and felt them dissolve into mush under his big toe was priceless.</span></p>
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<p style="font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;">RIP "Gramps"</span></p>
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<p style="font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b>Herb Gaidus</b></span></p>
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<p style="font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: times;">"Gramps taking a photo of me, taking a photo of him"</span></i></p>
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</div>Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-13664673177761014292019-04-21T21:13:00.002+10:002020-08-26T17:51:54.258+10:00Between the persona and the private<br />
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<b><span data-offset-key="3gmc7-0-0">John Theodore Comino</span></b></h2>
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<span data-offset-key="8obdk-0-0"><span data-text="true">Born: Brisbane, 2 June 1929</span></span></h3>
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<span data-offset-key="8gvet-0-0"><span data-text="true">It was only recently that I learned of the death of John Comino at age 89, an innovative and pioneering climber-bushwalker, who pushed the boundaries of the possible during an intense period of outdoor activity in 1950’s postwar Queensland. John was an integral part of a small core of adventurers who formed the influential University of Queensland Bushwalking Club (UQBWC) in 1950. Along with my peers and, I suspect, many others, I was lured into the world of bushwalking and climbing by reading the exploits of John and his cohort in the pages of the UQBWC magazine, Heybob. We planned our local forays into the Southeast Queensland wilderness based on the vivid accounts of first ascents and dramatic events, but more often, encouraged by the engaging perceptions of landscape and environment and our place in it.Although I did not know him personally, I’ve drawn together these memories from a series of interviews with him between 1999 and 2003. </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="bh4e9-0-0"><span data-text="true">When I first spoke to John Comino 20 years ago about those halcyon years, he recalled the precise set of circumstances that led to the formation of UQBWC. In December 1949, he was attending a UQ Science Camp near Mount Coolum on the Sunshine Coast when a fellow student, Jon Stephenson, asked him if he wanted to climb to the top of the low-lying peak. It was the view from the summit that day that triggered something inside John to pursue the heights with a vengeance. </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="cilcb-0-0"><span data-text="true">As a result of that Science Camp and people picking around the bush — and we were happy about the climb up east Coolum — we decided we’d form a bushwalking club. Now I’d heard of bushwalking in 1946 from Ross Barber and Graham Jarrott — a remarkable photographer. They were telling me about how they went bushwalking. And I said, ‘What do you want to walk in the bush for? What’s this in aid of?’ And I thought, ‘What a waste of bloody time.’ That was my first introduction to the name bushwalking.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="b2i5a-0-0"><span data-text="true">Despite his early misgivings, in the first few months of 1950, he and others — including Dave Stewart, Stephanie Henson, Ian McLeod, Geoff Broadbent, Bob Waring, Sid Williams and Jon Stephenson — formed the UQBWC. The original idea was to have a small group of about a dozen keen walkers — but the first trip to Mount Elphinstone at Brookfield attracted around 120 people! Jon Stephenson decided to ‘prune back’ the numbers by climbing the mountain at breakneck speed — and it worked as John recalled:</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="35aa1-0-0"><span data-text="true">I think a lot of them thought it was going to be little boysies and girlsies holding hands tiptoeing through the tulips but this was not the idea at all from our point of view. So those with the wrong idea found that it was very difficult physically because we were virtually running. We moved very fast and had to deplete them by attrition. That diminished the number from 120 down to about 30, maybe 20.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="di2ts-0-0"><span data-text="true">It was the start of an extraordinary chain of events that set up the framework for the development of postwar climbing and bushwalking in Queensland. Bert Salmon had dominated the climbing and walking scene between the wars but John sensed that a changing of the guard was imminent: </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="2najs-0-0"><span data-text="true">Bertie Salmon used to have the <i>Alpine Journal </i>— he had every issue of the Alpine Journal since it was first published bar one issue and he was quite proud of this. He spent a lot of time and money all his life. It was the pride of his life this <i>Alpine Journal</i>, believe me. He used to sit and read about all of this stuff and I used to think, ‘Well, how bloody dull.’ We were brash I suppose — so I didn’t give Bert his full due, by any means.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="bv3lh-0-0"><span data-text="true">It was around this time that his nickname, ‘Johnno’ was coined:</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="3map7-0-0"><span data-text="true">I was always what I would call antisocial. When I started at university, I purposely changed my persona to be ‘Johnno’, the life of the party, instead of the introverted wallflower that I’d been previously all my life. I’m probably about normal now [laughs]. But that was my persona.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="9rkdr-0-0"><span data-text="true">On the next UQBWC trip — to Mount Barney’s North Peak — ‘Johnno’ struck up what would be a lifelong friendship with the inimitable Bob Waring. They shared a powerful desire to reach summits in the shortest possible time so when the group stopped for lunch, gazing up at the massive hulk of East Peak, Bob Waring was puzzled. ‘Why are we all sitting around?’ he asked. ‘Aren’t we going up there?’ The group leader, Sid Williams, tried to dissuade them but John and Bob headed off regardless, promising to return in 20 minutes. Perhaps predictably, they were back before the rest of the group had finished their sandwiches!</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="7obel-0-0"><span data-text="true">This no-nonsense ‘just do it’ approach quickly came John Comino’s defining characteristic. </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="4nk5p-0-0"><span data-text="true">Shortly after the formation of the UQBWC, he was also involved in another Queensland milestone — the Brisbane Climbing Club (BCC), the second such organisation devoted to climbing activities in Queensland [Bert Salmon started the first around 1926]. Although the UQBWC lasted well into the 1980s before being superseded by amongst others, the current UQ Mountain Club, the BCC lasted barely eight months. Its demise had nothing to do with climbing — but Communism! John’s version of the meeting that saw the club torn apart differs in places from others’ accounts but essentially captures the spirit of the times. Essentially, the instigator of the club, Kemp Fowler — a New Zealand radar technician — was accused of having Communist sympathies. An extraordinary general meeting of the BCC called by Bert Salmon, Jon Stephenson and Raoul Mellish (amongst others), asked noted geologist Dr Fred Whitehouse to address the gathering. John rembered the tone of the meeting that evening:</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="dtn6v-0-0"><span data-text="true">'Can you trust your companion when he’s holding your life in his hands?’ was essentially the précis of what he [Whitehouse] was saying, and if he’s not the same political persuasion as you — namely a Communist — then beware, take care.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="5dq09-0-0"><span data-text="true">John and others claim that Fred Whitehouse had ASIO connections which led him to make the accusations, demanding that club members declare their support either for King and country — or for Communism.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="eprlh-0-0"><span data-text="true">The idea was to expel Kemp Fowler from the club. Kemp walked out, the schism was broad and deep. [Secretary] Shirley [McKenny’s] affiliation in working with Kemp made her walk out. My association with Shirley made me walk out. Waring’s association with me made Waring walk out. So we all walked out down Edward Street, fuming: ‘They can do whatever they like with their club if that’s the way they feel about it.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="mbmo-0-0"><span data-text="true">But while a difference in political ideology may have led to the demise of the BCC, it did little to prevent the climbing activity that followed. Friends split by the incident soon realised that their common love of the outdoors overrode any political differences and climbing activities resumed.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="cmhrb-0-0"><span data-text="true"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--MIatHh43fs/XLxNbTz59pI/AAAAAAAAArY/VRUdVUXUnQYyXYaJlViZ6rVVxfXv1mUxACLcBGAs/s1600/JS026%2B1952.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="638" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--MIatHh43fs/XLxNbTz59pI/AAAAAAAAArY/VRUdVUXUnQYyXYaJlViZ6rVVxfXv1mUxACLcBGAs/s640/JS026%2B1952.jpg" width="398" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="dbaii-0-0" style="font-size: x-small;"><span data-text="true">John Comino soloing the first ascent of The Pinnacle, the Steamers, in 1952 (photo: Jon Stephenson)</span></span></blockquote>
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<span data-offset-key="cmhrb-0-0"><span data-text="true"> John was the first to repeat the exposed traverse above the north face of Leaning Peak soloed by Bob Waring in 1949 and was soon pursuing the last unclimbed summits in southeast Queensland — in the Steamer Formation on the Main Range near Killarney. In 1952, John and Bob soloed the steep north face of The Pinnacle in the Steamers, making the first ascent. In January 1953, John joined with Jon Stephenson, Geoff Goadby, Geoff Broadbent, Dave Stewart and Ian McLeod to make the first ascent of the Thumb — a pinnacle on the side of Mount Bowen on Hinchinbrook Island.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ekb0m-0-0"><span data-text="true">It was three days going up there to do Mount Bowen and for those three days we just about sweated blood. It was right in the middle of summer. It was hot as hell. And when we got up on the top that night we could see in the distance a thunderstorm coming and thereafter it rained and rained. It averaged eight inches a day for 10 days. </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="96tol-0-0"><span data-text="true">It was actually a cyclone and as they approached their objective, John described his plan of attack to climb the steep, weathered granite to the summit of The Thumb: </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="45s2s-0-0"><span data-text="true">I was going to take a flying leap at it but they said, ‘No! No! Don’t be silly’ — or something — and dissuaded me from jumping across. It was about from you to here [1.5 metres] away and dropped away to nothing but I reckon I could have taken a running jump — woomph — and stuck. I suppose that would have been foolish but I was quite confident I could do it so I expected I would have. They dissuaded me from doing that. </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="se0d-0-0"><span data-text="true"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uFAsMdbXZUY/XLzPynj94cI/AAAAAAAAArs/pYD9Eda6ylwiBg1FjTJvZd6tQTx3JyOFQCLcBGAs/s1600/PB01%2B1954.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="962" data-original-width="1600" height="384" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uFAsMdbXZUY/XLzPynj94cI/AAAAAAAAArs/pYD9Eda6ylwiBg1FjTJvZd6tQTx3JyOFQCLcBGAs/s640/PB01%2B1954.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="se0d-0-0"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-size: x-small;">On the summit of Leaning Peak, Mount Barney, 1954 -- from left, John Comino, Italian Consul Felice Benuzzi, </span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="se0d-0-0"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Geoff Goadby, Peter Barnes and (rear) Alan Frost (photo: Peter Barnes)</span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="se0d-0-0"><span data-text="true">Following their successful ascent on Hinchinbrook Island — and a subsequent escape from the cyclone — John joined with Jon Stephenson to take Bert Salmon up the long south face of Mt Beerwah, remembering it as the most enjoyable climb he did: "We were using ropes then. Bert had never used a rope before, or so he said. He was shit-scared to say the least." </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="bnfoq-0-0"><span data-text="true">Unlike many of his peers, John was not an avid reader of climbing literature nor did he have an interest in climbing history. He heard about Bert Salmon through Jon Stephenson who was keen to maintain contact with the 1930s climbing pioneer but to John, he was just ‘an old bloke who was working at Ag [Agriculture] and Stock’ although he remembered Salmon’s white, curly hair.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="282n9-0-0"><span data-text="true">In December that same year — 1953 — he joined Jon Stephenson again, this time to make the first (and still the only verified) ascent of Vidler’s Chimney with George Ettershank and Ron Moss. He had few recollections of the challenging climbing conditions:</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="84jck-0-0"><span data-text="true">The idea to get up Vidler’s Chimney is to climb up faster than you’re sliding back. That, in essence, is what it is, but it’s terribly exposed.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="afceo-0-0"><span data-text="true"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wm7EUvfqc_4/XLxN6zPHAtI/AAAAAAAAArg/RpWjrqyr7PcP2CDfz0c07-U5_jzmX0ZYACLcBGAs/s1600/RCX01%2B1950.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="696" data-original-width="1024" height="434" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wm7EUvfqc_4/XLxN6zPHAtI/AAAAAAAAArg/RpWjrqyr7PcP2CDfz0c07-U5_jzmX0ZYACLcBGAs/s640/RCX01%2B1950.jpg" width="640" /></a><span data-offset-key="afceo-0-0"><span data-text="true"> <span data-offset-key="dbaii-0-0" style="font-size: x-small;"><span data-text="true"></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="afceo-0-0"><span data-text="true"><span data-offset-key="dbaii-0-0" style="font-size: x-small;"><span data-text="true">John Comino instructing in climbing techniques at Kangaroo Point circa 1958 (photo: Ron Cox)</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="afceo-0-0"><span data-text="true">In the following years, John became one of the stalwarts — albeit initially a reluctant one — taking part in climbing training sessions at Kangaroo Point cliffs for UQBWC members. Peter Barnes and Alan Frost were already climbing there being boarders at the nearby King's College in River Terrace. Peter introduced Geoff Goadby to Alan and the three began regularly climbing together. </span></span></div>
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<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="3lrgr-0-0"><span data-offset-key="3lrgr-0-0"><span data-text="true">Geoff was keen on showing people who wanted to climb how to climb. I thought this was a dumb idea. I wasn’t very enthusiastic. I think Geoff took the first couple of climbers. We were trying to dissuade people from climbing, let’s say, because it’s a dangerous pursuit because if you think you’re just going to go out and climb solo on something very dangerous, you’re going to have an accident for sure. And it would reflect back on the club. As far as the bushwalking club [UQBWC] was concerned, we weren’t officially into climbing. If there were a few ratbags among us who went climbing, that was OK — they weren’t doing it under the auspices of the club.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8is67-0-0"><span data-text="true">It was at one such Kangaroo Point training session that he first met Ron Cox. He learned that Cox had managed to climb a buttress on the lower cliffline — a route that still bears his name — and that it had reputedly repelled all other attempts. A small group of climbers was standing around the base of the cliff, discussing the route.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="bcmvj-0-0"><span data-text="true">I don’t know whether they’d been in our class earlier in the afternoon or not. It was just about going home time and I think it might have been Ron who was just about up to the top of it when we went to have a look. That was about 100 yards downstream from where we were. I thought, this fellow can climb alright, he didn’t need any instruction. Then I got baited into having a go at it. I said ‘You insolent little bastards, I’m not going to be dared on this. I’ll take you on!’ [laughs] And so I did. I was belayed from above and it was very safe. Stephanie was there, too, and I think this was after we were married. It was quite a good climb until you get to this Cox’s Overhang and I thought that this was quite difficult and I couldn’t reach the handholds — they were about two or three inches out of reach. I was standing on tippy toes sort of thing and stretching as hard as I could stretch but they were a few inches out of reach.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="2m9o7-0-0"><span data-text="true">Describing Ron Cox as being built ‘like a bloody spider’, he decided to make a lunge for a crucial handhold. </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="2m9o7-0-0"><span data-text="true">I wouldn’t have got over that thing without the rope.Anyway I got up there and after that I think Ron thought, ‘Well, this fellow can climb’ and that’s probably what caused him to look me up about the Crookneck thing some time later.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="c2t1b-0-0"><span data-text="true">The ‘Crookneck thing’ was, of course, the first ascent of the East face route in 1959. John had attempted East Crookneck some years before with Bob Waring but had realised it was beyond him.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="1eop1-0-0"><span data-text="true">"I shinned up this column and I’m standing on top of the thing. Bob said, ‘Can you see anything from there?’ As I was standing there — the column’s only about eight inches diameter — I could feel the thing starting to peel off the side. I said to Bob, ‘Get away from down the bottom there, I think I’m coming down. Just get out of the road.’ I don’t know what I would have done if it had peeled right off. I ended up putting my arms around the thing and sliding back down it [laughs]."</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8v4hd-0-0"><span data-text="true">John recalled that when he and Bob Waring first contemplated climbing Crookneck, the gear they had was rudimentary, to say the least:</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="eahkd-0-0"><span data-text="true">I’ve seen young people out at Kangaroo Point with thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment draped over them and I thought, ‘Oh God, climbing was never like this!’ We rappelled over here [the East Face] to see if there was a route that would go. We thought it would from the bottom…We decided that one of these days we’d go back and do that and we reckoned if we took some wooden chocks about 18 inches long down to about four inches long and a big hammer, then we could whop these into places that we could see. They wouldn’t be permanent pitons but they’d more than do the job.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="3cl7o-0-0"><span data-text="true">On their recce of the climb, they had abseiled down to a large ledge [the second stance] they dubbed the Eagle’s Eyrie — and then had climbed back up to the summit ridge. But in September, 1959, John found himself standing below the east face with Ron Cox and Pat Conaghan.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8i38f-0-0"><span data-text="true">So Ron and I went up and we had these etrier things that he and Pat had made up — marvellous things to use — it’s like a hangman’s noose [a prussik knot] that you wrap around the rope and slip up the rope. A good idea but there was only one catch: I’d never used them before. I’d never seen them before and I’m starting up on what I think is the most difficult pitch, the beginning of the thing…Where we started the climb, there was no column and, Holy Mackeral, there was an awful shortage of handholds. As far as I recall, you get up as far as you can and then traverse about 20 feet [six metres], diagonally. That first part there is where we used the etriers, as I recall. Of course, I was swearing about the things but once you got the hang of them they were marvellous to use. But it’s only in the beginning part of the climb we used them. It’s fairly easy up to the overhang but Ron had conveniently put a piton in before the overhang…You’d clip onto them and you were safe.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="6ri2k-0-0"><span data-text="true">John reached the Eagle’s Eyrie just before nightfall so he and Ron settled into a bivvy while Pat sheltered at the base of the climb. The slow pace of climbing was testing his patience.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="2m69l-0-0"><span data-text="true">It was after the climbing club’s climb of the north of Beerwah — coming back in the truck, the most outstanding thing in any of the climbing was the view at sunset — a red sky and an absolutely full moon beside Crookneck with Beerwah purple-black. In the back of this truck it was the most beautiful scene I’ve ever seen in my life. We’d had a good day climbing Beerwah on the inaugural trip and that scene sticks with me. </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="aljln-0-0"><span data-text="true">The history of mountaineering is about the firsts, mosts, and disasters, but behind the dozens of famous faces are countless mountaineers whose rewards have been entirely private and personal — Rebecca Solnit.</span></span></div>
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Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-70962875634954203842018-03-24T14:11:00.002+10:002018-03-24T14:40:40.182+10:00A memorable ascent of the north face of Leaning Peak: 16-17 September 2017<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Alan Frost with son Chris on the summit of Leaning Peak -- 16 September 2017. Photo: Chris Frost</span></div>
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This is the story of an extraordinary ascent of Leaning Peak's north face by Alan Frost and his son, Chris. Why extraordinary? Alan was 82 at the time, becoming the oldest climber to have completed the route. He's also the oldest active climber from a postwar Queensland cohort who created a climbing culture that all of us have built on -- and benefited from. Chris has made an enormous contribution to the climbing scene both here and abroad from the late 1970s, following in his father's very large footsteps. As a climbing team, they have made many memorable ascents across Southeast Queensland and look set to continue.<br />
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I first wrote about their achievement last year in the online climbing magazine, <i>Vertical Life</i> (No. 23), but space restrictions prevented me from including more detail of this memorable event. I doubt whether anyone will better the ascent age record set by Alan who seems to have lost none of the passion for the heights that inspired he and his long-time climbing partner, Peter Barnes (now 87), to accomplish a long list of first and significant ascents in Southeast Queensland. Although by his own admission, the lightning pace set by he and Peter during their forays from the late 1940s may have slowed a little, he still climbs at a level that would challenge many current climbers. The following are emails sent to me following their historic ascent. I must declare a personal interest here having been part of the first ascent team -- with John Shera and my brother Chris -- on Leaning Peak's north face in February 1968. It was a defining moment in my own life and it seems that the spell of the big face has lost none of its aura. At 410 metres, it is still the longest trad route in Queensland (arguably Australia). I am sure that their experiences on the climb and the memories evoked will inspire you as they did me... <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Alan Frost on one of the lower pitches of Leaning Peak's north face. Photo: Chris Frost</span></div>
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<b>ALAN</b></div>
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Chris has told of our adventure Sat/Sun. It was magic in so many ways, and gave much food for thought, especially as I was the belayer. It was hard to place it all in the perspective of the old days, but my main conclusion was to recognise the amazing achievement of your first ascent in 1968. It is always easier thereafter, knowing it can be done and an approximate idea of difficulty. And you did it in the old trad way with minimal gear (pitons?), static rope and I guess no sticky rubber shoes. After 49 years I felt humbled by your success. You were lucky in your time — the edge of our trad stuff (the leader shall not fall — Frank Smythe) and the beginning of protecting the leader, which slowly changed everything, in which you were much involved. Of course at the time I was well aware of the changes occurring, but let them pass me by: I was too busy at work and with a young family; it was evident that to be involved would take up too much time in mastering the new techniques.<br />
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I took up squash for the sharp exercise and played Pennant for many years until I could not see the ball well. When Chris, Paul (Hoskins) and others got serious in the early 80's, I dropped squash and trained with them. But for me it was too late. I fairly quickly got up to leading 21s and a few harder, but never felt myself competent, needing more practice. Then they all disappeared: Paul to Arapiles, Chris married and then took up flying ( as did some others). So I was back to the old scrambling, which I still enjoy, with irregular climbing with Chris. <br />
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Back to Saturday: all this stuff was whizzing around in my mind while watching the smoke, the exposure, and Chris seeking runners. Initially I was more concerned about getting a pack to the foot of the climb -- I am slow uphill with a pack (age and cardiac output are not friends, as you will find!!). As it turned out it was no problem, but finding the Gash (as we called it in the old days) in the smoke was difficult as we could not see any part of the mountain.<br />
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Eventually the start was obvious, a good angled start that just slowly became steeper. I was unsure at first of the slippers on the rock, and how I would handle the heavy pack, but after a few minutes I felt in my element, and the rock moves were great. Eventually we were over the smoke, but it was still very hazy. The last two pitches were fantastic. Very steep and scary for Chris with the runout on delicate holds. He is the ultimate climber, has been for a long time: relaxed and careful, judgement from long experience, yet once runners are in, graceful and quick. There were a couple of moves on the climb that I thought were around 18, the rest around 12-14, and overall, fantastic rock.<br />
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To my astonishment we topped out just on 5 pm, exactly where you exit the ledge [the Waring Ledge, first climbed in 1949 by Bob Waring], a few feet from the top. At the time there was no wind, and it would have been churlish to rush off to find a spot to curl up — so we stayed and watched the sunset, put on some clothes, feet in bivvy bag, and guess what? Chris produced some Talisker Scotch which we supped as the West and East Peaks turned from mellow detail to (West) a giant sombre black pyramid. The clouds of smoke down below from 8-10 fires around Ballow and the north of Barney creek mellowed and disappeared with the light, leaving the bright stark margins of the fires. It was one of the most magic hours I have had in the mountains.<br />
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So thanks to you for pioneering such a great climb. As we all know one cannot wax lyric to anyone but a climber, and often even they are not interested; so thanks for listening to my rambling.<br />
PS. Chris just reminded me that I took him up Logan's ridge when he was 8, i.e. 1968, the year of your climb!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Alan Frost high on the face in fading light. Photo: Chris Frost</span></div>
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<b>CHRIS</b></div>
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Left the car park at 4.45am. There were many fires about with lots of smoke. The smoke even made navigation hard in the scrub leading up to the base of the route. We were slowed by the thick scunge for a while and didn't start climbing until 10am. T'was a bit of a slow start! We did 12 pitches with Dad climbing second on each pitch. He was amazing, climbing the entire route without assistance from the rope. We topped out at 5 pm in the setting sun. I'd planned on a bivi, so had packed bivi bags, a stove and little extra water.<br />
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I surprised Dad with a cup each of fine scotch whiskey. We sat and soaked up the moment as the sun set over west peak. After a few brews we climbed into our bivi bags and endured a fitful sleep in the cold. A southwest wind rose considerably overnight making things a little cooler than I imagined. We both had bouts of shivering. Good fun! <br />
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The first morning light had us out of our bags and keen to start moving. We were being blown over with the wind! The abseil was fun in the even stronger wind of saddle venturi effect. We scooted up over North Peak and descended Rocky Creek. Back to the car then the obligatory beer at the Rathdowney Pub.Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-50152241319273521762018-03-24T10:30:00.001+10:002021-06-05T14:28:03.117+10:00The living rock: the invention of climbing in eastern Australia<br />
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<a href="http://pandora.nla.gov.au/tep/150805" target="_blank"><img alt="http://pandora.nla.gov.au/tep/150805" src="https://pandora.nla.gov.au/searchbox/images/logo_pandora_2.gif" /></a><br />
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<i>The Living Rock</i> has been officially archived by the National Library of Australia. To search the archive of websites like this one, click on the logo above.<br />
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I'm now down to my last 10 (of 1100) copies of <i>The Living Rock</i>. There's been a wonderful outpouring of support and information from readers, buyers, climbers, relatives and others which really has made all of the effort worthwhile. In fact, it's the aftermath of proiducing the book that hasd been the most rewarding. Despite all of that, I won't be embarking on a secondn edition in hard copy format but have decided to pursue an iBook version that I plan to publish later this year. It will include most of the images in the hard copy but with some additional photographs and video clips -- both historical and current -- of climbs and climbing areas, mostly in Queensland. It'll be available through the iBook store and readable only on iPads or Macs, mainly because of the large file size of the document. If you haven't yet obtained a copy of the hard copy edition -- and would like to -- please contact me.<br />
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Since publication in September 2015, I've been involved in various promotional events, beginning with a fantastic launch at Mountain Designs' Valley store in Brisbane. It was wonderful to see Donn Groom (with virtually the entire Groom family!) and Paul Caffyn who came from their homes in New Zealand for the event along with about 80 others, including old friends from decades ago. It was an uplifting evening. A highlight was meeting 85-year-old Bernice Manley for the first time. I spoke to Bernie at the very start of my research by telephone from Melbourne where she lives. She happened to be in Queensland staying with relatives and it was wonderful to meet her and to experience her continuing enthusiasm for climbing. Bernie was one of a handful of pioneering women who were climbing in the late 1940s/early 1950s in Southeast Queensland. Peter Barnes who is close to 86 was also there, along with his old climbing partner Alan Frost. Both look incredibly fit and are still active in the outdoors: what wonderful examples for us all. Long-time friend Ian Thomas flew up from Melbourne with the doyen of Australian climbing Keith Bell kindly coming up from Sydney for the event. Ian, Keith and I managed to squeeze in some memorable moments in the Glass House Mountains during their stay.<br />
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Mountain Designs has been strongly supportive of the book since the launch and I thank all involved
for this. It was very sad to witness the closure of all of its 39
walk-in stores across Australia in February 2018, particularly because
of my own brief involvement in the company's first few years. I've also had strong support from other local climbing outlets --
The Far Outdoors (Boonah), Pinnacle Sports at Red Hill and K2 Base Camp in Brisbane's Fortitude
Valley -- with the book available at all of these shops along with the following general book stores: Avid Reader (West End), Mary Ryan's (Milton), The Maleny Bookshop, Rosetta Books (Maleny), The River Read (Noosaville), Binna Burra Lodge, Canungra Visitors Information Centre, Rathdowney Historical Museum and Visitor Information, Glass House Mountains Information Centre, Fullers Bookshop (Hobart) and the Hobart Bookshop. I thank all of these outlets for their support.It's also available in selected bookstores in southern Australia thanks to Glenn Tempest who is distributing copies from his Natimuk headquarters.<br />
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Below is a Table of Contents
to give you an idea of the span of the project. Part I explores the
earliest known European ascents in Australia and the emergence of
rockclimbing as a recreation before World War II. Part II focuses on
climbing in postwar Queensland until about the late 1980s. I stopped at
that point because of both the enormity of the project and the
diversification of climbing into more specialised categories: sports climbing, bouldering and indoor climbing, for example. In addition, the most recent stories and images of climbing in Australia -- particularly since the mid-1980s -- have been published in a range of climbing magazines, including <i>Thrutch</i>, <i>Rock</i>, <i>Wild</i>, <i>Crux</i>, and current online offering, <i>Vertical Life</i>. <br />
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The price of the book is AUD$39.95 (including postage to most places in Australia). <br />
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Living Rock Press</div>
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PO Box 52</div>
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Rochedale South</div>
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QLD 4123</div>
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Australia </div>
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<b>OTHER WRITINGS</b><br />
Articles on climbing history from 2013-present: <i><a href="http://www.verticallifemag.com.au/magazines/" target="_blank">Vertical Life</a></i> (free subscription).<br />
<a href="http://pandora.nla.gov.au/pan/150805/20160305-0004/climbinghistoryoz.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/crux-columns-climbing-wars-or-victoria.html" target="_blank">Climbing wars: or Victoria versus the rest (</a><i>Crux</i> 2007)<br />
<a href="http://pandora.nla.gov.au/pan/150805/20160305-0004/climbinghistoryoz.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/crux-columns-transport-trauma.html" target="_blank">Transport trauma</a> (<i>Crux</i> 2007)<br />
<a href="http://pandora.nla.gov.au/pan/150805/20160305-0004/climbinghistoryoz.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/crux-columns-women-with-attitude.html" target="_blank">Women with attitude</a> (<i>Crux</i> 2007) <br />
<a href="http://pandora.nla.gov.au/pan/150805/20160305-0004/climbinghistoryoz.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/crux-columns-ghosts-and-glass-houses.html" target="_blank">Ghosts and the Glasshouses</a> (<i>Crux</i> 2006) <br />
<a href="http://the%20origins%20of%20australian%20climbing%20(crux%202006)/" target="_blank">The origins of Australian climbing</a> (<i>Crux</i> 2006) <br />
<a href="http://climbinghistoryoz.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/return-to-north-face-of-leaning-peak.html" target="_blank">Return to the North Face of Leaning Peak </a> (<i>Wild</i> 2003)<br />
<a href="http://ejournalist.com.au/v1n2/MEADOWS.pdf" target="_blank">The changing role of QLD newspapers in imagining leisure and recreation</a> (<i>eJournalist</i> 2001) <br />
<a href="http://pandora.nla.gov.au/pan/150805/20160305-0004/climbinghistoryoz.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/close-to-edge-imagining-climbing-in.html" target="_blank">Close to the edge</a><a href="http://pandora.nla.gov.au/pan/150805/20160305-0004/climbinghistoryoz.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/close-to-edge-imagining-climbing-in.html" target="_blank">: imagining climbing in S. E. Queensland</a> (<i>Queensland Review</i> 2000)<br />
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Michael Meadowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05552700176853231657noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-17171309410904961742015-10-11T17:30:00.001+10:002023-06-23T15:23:59.930+10:00Return to the North Face of Leaning Peak<span style="font-size: large;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Defining
moments: an ascent of the north face of Leaning Peak</b></span></div>
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<br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Do3z9pKCsyIqnYdbiD4GnH5Q4AxTBKX9CVLyJ91GT1IzFm6FmFbakL5vgmV18_SX6A58XggJr7n8PfqsZ5fWd8hjdpiLEGz_4wKno3K-Lv0izjBikzR2jOsxi2LPrLwnWJ8hoewCBsDJzb4gi6XNJqizB_iGst8f7wjQ2t9mw8Ufzd7yJJbz-Q/s2048/From%20N%20Leaning%2003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1308" data-original-width="2048" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Do3z9pKCsyIqnYdbiD4GnH5Q4AxTBKX9CVLyJ91GT1IzFm6FmFbakL5vgmV18_SX6A58XggJr7n8PfqsZ5fWd8hjdpiLEGz_4wKno3K-Lv0izjBikzR2jOsxi2LPrLwnWJ8hoewCBsDJzb4gi6XNJqizB_iGst8f7wjQ2t9mw8Ufzd7yJJbz-Q/w640-h408/From%20N%20Leaning%2003.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">High on the North Face route in 2003, long shadows creep across Isolated Peak and Mount Maroon (Michael Meadows collection)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div>
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<span>‘This
is not where we were supposed to be,’ I thought, as four of us shivered on a
cold August night in a small clearing ringed by huge boulders just below the
summit of North Peak. By my calculations, we should have been back at our
comfortable campsite at the bottom of the Mt Barney waterfall by now, preparing
to walk back to the car. But Mt Barney has a habit of humbling you by its sheer
size and majesty. A few hours earlier, Rob Hales, Wendy Steele, Katie Steele
and myself had completed one of the longest multi-pitch climbing routes in
Australia—the 410 metre north face of Leaning Peak—Wendy and Katie making the
first female ascent and Wendy becoming the first person to have climbed both
big faces on Mt Barney. As the cold wind suddenly became a lot colder, and the
thought of warm clothing, food and water at our campsite 1000 metres below us
became more vivid, the box of matches I always carried was suddenly worth more
than its weight in gold. So we huddled there—around a fire, this time—a little
less cold, a little less hungry, a little less thirsty, still very tired but
perhaps secretly not wanting to be anywhere else on earth. Or maybe that was in
retrospect.</span></div>
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<br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdPSAqpBk5E5BGh5DdCe13v3kpFdYuMaN21Sa84BAUtXeauXDiCsEbIsktQxYHssTp79Md3R3vv4DjqzrVcmzu9s47y76TdRXuMyaVr8yO99-Px1S6YglsWPm-9zqbWB3Fk3mLkELIlyCPmpd6haT6_Rc2m41SOYyvvQlQOChEcV1PBu4D_Ykjlw/s2048/mm041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1747" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdPSAqpBk5E5BGh5DdCe13v3kpFdYuMaN21Sa84BAUtXeauXDiCsEbIsktQxYHssTp79Md3R3vv4DjqzrVcmzu9s47y76TdRXuMyaVr8yO99-Px1S6YglsWPm-9zqbWB3Fk3mLkELIlyCPmpd6haT6_Rc2m41SOYyvvQlQOChEcV1PBu4D_Ykjlw/w546-h640/mm041.jpg" width="546" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">The first ascent team, February 1968, at the Catholic Bushwalkers' Hut in Mt Barney Creek. <br />From left, Michael Meadows, John Shera and Chris Meadows (Michael Meadows collection)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
made the first ascent of the north face in 1968 with John Shera and my brother
Chris. When I had mused about the possibility of repeating it—and climbing it
in one day—Wendy Steele and partner Rob Hales had taken me very seriously and
in August, 2003, the four of us set off on the long walk in to the bottom of
the face. We started climbing in the gully used by pioneering Queensland
climber Bert Salmon who was first to climb Leaning Peak in October 1932, alone.
The second ascent came four years later when the first women—Lexie Wilson, Mary
Hansen and Doris Goy—stood on the summit. We climbed in two ropes of two—Rob
and myself, and Wendy and Katie—and Rob led off confidently on the first pitch.
The rock was solid with the usual incredible Barney friction and Rob seemed to
find gear placements where none was obvious. So far, the climbing was steeper
and harder than I remembered—but then I was 19 on the first ascent. Back then,
we wore vibram-soled bushwalking boots and, in true Alpine style, each of us carried
a small pack with a foam bivvy bag, food and containers of ‘red’—raspberry
cordial. On the original climb we carried 12 pitons, a dozen hemp and
polyethylene slings, and a handful of mild steel carabiners. We used two brand
new nylon ropes—our first.</div>
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<br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiax-e7mgNnN6Ao5TyRDQUwBK1LRwe5D3Dbry7dJ_wfYb09in02gSQMuXj9jCCx5qZZCLlex-WP-Nv7ZvLpdp_sJRLVKOIj2MbnYQNou_jxhkMlgMifNaXI0VPMA-QiF4qZ6V3LIoqORPDrynbEoqnOYNo4584QUcBbzeFtkPak5UWucZcItMXYjA/s3058/P1170055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="3058" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiax-e7mgNnN6Ao5TyRDQUwBK1LRwe5D3Dbry7dJ_wfYb09in02gSQMuXj9jCCx5qZZCLlex-WP-Nv7ZvLpdp_sJRLVKOIj2MbnYQNou_jxhkMlgMifNaXI0VPMA-QiF4qZ6V3LIoqORPDrynbEoqnOYNo4584QUcBbzeFtkPak5UWucZcItMXYjA/w640-h428/P1170055.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Wendy Steele at home on the grippy second pitch of the 410 metre north face of Leaning Peak in 2003 <br />(Michael Meadows collection).</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span>By
the time I reached Rob on the second stance, the outlook was sensational—we had
climbed above a line of low northern foothills and the vista opened up
dramatically. Rob, Wendy and Katie were in their element but I still felt a
little intimidated—maybe it was uncertainty around my shaky legs, still
recovering from the steep scramble to the start. Rob led off on the third
pitch—another 60 metre runout—and a positive shout from above suggested some
nice climbing ahead. And it was—some easy-angled slabs then steeper rock with
adequate protection and as much exposure as you wanted. But the next pitch was
even better. Rob thought it might be the best he had climbed in southeast
Queensland—60 metres of solid, grippy rock shaped into water worn grooves,
ideal for thoughtful jam protection and offering great holds. I had to agree.
Wendy was in the groove, too, so much so that she got a gentle reminder from
sister Katie to place more protection on the next pitch. We gulped down some
water, a nip of ‘red’—back on the face after 35 years—and had a quick bite to
eat and Rob set off up a rib above the stance. It quickly became harder than it
looked from below but he powered up on loose microholds, well above the only
good protection on the pitch. We suggested Wendy try the wall out to the right
and she moved easily up this, catching us at the next stance, receiving yet
another mild reprimand for her long unprotected runout.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span><br /></span></div>
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<span>As
the rope played out in slow, steady jerks, I was alone on the stance. Wendy was
climbing below me and Rob had disappeared around a steep buttress at the start
of the 6th pitch. For some reason, I couldn’t get rid of a strange
feeling of unease. Maybe it was concern that if something did go wrong—if there
was an accident—I’d lured my friends up here to this place. And what a place!
An uninhibited expanse to the north, from the now deeply-shadowed Mt Barney
Creek 700 metres below, to the horizon, stretching out from ear to ear. You
could almost feel the silence of the void. </span></div>
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<br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhay1LJQySRkZrTnfzAm4Au-fE8D6l4_l395Ym0BxiOrsuaUOvcr0CbDIJ2FEg69usT1owZIGLOM4M89WWxrt2dIq94D4RsZshz3vL8wRWwsPQnv_2KM5oQ3fWCmkLeoX3jb_hcNlqaherlDN7NZUis_RexZcA398woq5GD1qJOVisaVNtHwNtDAg/s2048/mm048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1372" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhay1LJQySRkZrTnfzAm4Au-fE8D6l4_l395Ym0BxiOrsuaUOvcr0CbDIJ2FEg69usT1owZIGLOM4M89WWxrt2dIq94D4RsZshz3vL8wRWwsPQnv_2KM5oQ3fWCmkLeoX3jb_hcNlqaherlDN7NZUis_RexZcA398woq5GD1qJOVisaVNtHwNtDAg/w428-h640/mm048.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Chris Meadows (left) and John Shera next morning on our bivvy ledge, 200 metres from the summit <br />on the first ascent of the north face of Leaning Peak in 1968 (Michael Meadows collection).</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It
was around here that darkness had overtaken us on the first ascent in 1968.
Back on that February evening, I had set off from a stance at about this height
and in fading light, had hurried to climb a short overhanging corner. I came
unstuck, falling a few metres onto a large ledge. With no apparent damage other
than to my pride, I had climbed the corner easily the second time. Within a few
minutes I had found a ledge big enough for us to sit out the night. The wind
rose and had buffeted the face but our foam bivvy bags had worked superbly. It
was a crystal clear evening and we could see the lights of Brisbane on the
northern horizon. We had managed a few hours’ fitful sleep but next morning, my
foot was so swollen I could barely fit it into my boot. It meant that leading
was out of the question—and I chose not to think of the long walk out. Neither
Chris nor John had led a climb before but John volunteered and for the next two
hours, he carefully picked his way through the last 60 metres of steep rock—the
most difficult climbing on the face. We stood on the summit of Leaning Peak at
11.00 am—24 hours after we’d started.</div>
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<span>These
thoughts raced through my head as Rob signalled he had reached a belay stance,
again with a few centimetres of rope to spare—one pitch to go. Around the
buttress the climbing was superb, the protection dwindling as the climbing
became harder and the rock quality deteriorated. Out to my left I could see
what looked like a thick hawser hanging from a piton on a steep wall. We had
left a peg and sling behind somewhere around here on the first ascent but this
rope looked like it could be used to moor a cruise ship! It was after 5.00 by
the time I reached Rob. The mental energy he had been expending all day must be
taking its toll. He knew what the climb meant to me and without hesitation
offered me the lead. It was a generous and thoughtful gesture but my mind was
not in the right place—not this time. He had done a superb job in finding a new
route up the face and I couldn’t take the last pitch away from him, even if I’d
felt up to it. And 30 minutes later as I followed the snaking purple line of
kernmantel, I was glad I hadn’t had a sudden rush of blood and taken him up on
the offer. A difficult wall on small holds, then a tricky move past a pile of
loose boulders, ready to avalanche onto Wendy and Katie directly below. A
delicate balance move out left, then back across the corner. One step away, Rob
sat almost hidden in low shrubs with his characteristic optimistic grin but
this time, with a look of deep satisfaction. I squeezed his shoulder before
scrambling up the last few metres to the summit ridge. It was 6.00 o’clock. I
watched the colours changing as the sun sank lower. It was a magnificent place
and I thought of my brother Chris who was on our first eventful climb here. If
he was still alive, he might have been part of this adventure, too. I know he
would have been in his element. I felt a shiver and wondered whether he was
here after all.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRAs9FT0X0puDcLDYMIAxpJF6WleCyPylgfWHJBRhAk77pJ-6fwakE2H8PeNNhKuCmuA6cihzVE5JNgLl0LOKqUbFyEXwhr3lfrFhBJ-NjvEDEeIPau3mecdBPaYTGrzqiVdZKJ4C2GVvySP2c81ZFs6FdbRafUHUJ4tuiMb6JP4nfnV8_LxjLg/s2048/Katie%20N%20Leaning%2003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1329" data-original-width="2048" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRAs9FT0X0puDcLDYMIAxpJF6WleCyPylgfWHJBRhAk77pJ-6fwakE2H8PeNNhKuCmuA6cihzVE5JNgLl0LOKqUbFyEXwhr3lfrFhBJ-NjvEDEeIPau3mecdBPaYTGrzqiVdZKJ4C2GVvySP2c81ZFs6FdbRafUHUJ4tuiMb6JP4nfnV8_LxjLg/w640-h416/Katie%20N%20Leaning%2003.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard;">Katie Steele in her element on the north face route in 2003 with long shadows gathering. </span><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard;">She and her sister Wendy made the historic first female and first all-female ascent of the face (Michael Meadows collection).</span></span></div></td></tr></tbody></table></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For
me, and I know for many others, climbing is defined by a complex array of
experiences—physical and spiritual. Central to it all are people: close
friends, partners—and the bond that links us when we share an experience.
Sometimes, if we’re lucky, all these elements come together to create something
memorable—something that is much more powerful than the sum of the parts. And
I’ve been lucky enough to experience this twice on the same climb.</div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The
writer:</b> <i>Michael
Meadows began climbing in the mid-1960s and drifted away 10 years later,
pursuing a career as a journalist and later as a university lecturer. His
reawakening came at the</i> <i>30th anniversary of the discovery of
Frog Buttress in 1998 when he climbed his first route for 20 years. Now he
prefers climbing with good friends on quality, multi-pitch routes that capture
the essence of the experience. He is completing a book about the origins of
climbing in Queensland. Chris Meadows took his own life in 1991.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">[Note: This article was first published in <i>Rock</i>, Summer 2006, 36-39] <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></span><i><br /></i></span></div>
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</span></span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16497068.post-21047467915276711842015-10-11T17:00:00.000+10:002015-10-11T18:12:43.915+10:00Close to the edge: imagining climbing in southeast Queensland<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Close to the edge: </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>imagining climbing in southeast Queensland</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Michael Meadows, Robert Thomson and Wendy Stewart</span></i></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">[Note: We wrote this article based on our first tentative exploration of Queensland newspaper archives, former climbers' diaries, documents and recollections. It was the basis for a conference paper and was subsequently published in a modified form in the academic history journal, <i>Queensland Review</i> 7(2), 67-84, 2000]</span></span></div>
<h1 style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Introduction</span></h1>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In 1992, the Climbing World Finals event in Birmingham
attracted around 5,000 spectators watching 24 males and 16 females compete in
two separate competitions for prizemoney.
In this entertainment spectacular, super-fit young athletes climb walls
using artificial hand and footholds, racing against the clock to determine who
will claim the title of the world’s ‘best’ climber. In the same year, climbing appeared as a demonstration sport
at the Albertville Winter Olympics.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn1" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[i]</span></a> In the same year, the first indoor
climbing gymnasium in Australia opened its climbing wall. There are now around 80 operating
around the country under the auspices of the Australian Indoor Climbing Gyms
Association Incorporated.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn2" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[ii]</span></a></span> </div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Two years earlier in 1990, the Australian Sportsclimbing
Federation was formed. It is
registered with the International Union of Alpinist Associations (UIAA) the
umbrella organisation for all mountaineering and rockclimbing associations
worldwide. In April last year at
an event in the Blue Mountains called <i>Escalade</i>,
19 of the country’s highest-ranked female and 17 top-ranked male climbers
competed. It was the eighth
climbing competition held in Australia since 1996 and some participants went on
to compete in the World Cup—an international climbing competition. A significant increase in female
participation in rockclimbing coincides with the advent of climbing gyms in
Australia. Perhaps one reason for
this is the central place of fitness in the lives of many young people. Indoor climbing was quickly adopted as
an interesting and effective way of getting and keeping fit—something confirmed
by proponents of sports medicine.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn3" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[iii]</span></a> The
increasing popularity of rockclimbing in its many forms has prompted studies
from varied perspectives—for example, analysis of hand and finger abnormalities
specific to climbers;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn4" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[iv]</span></a> analysis of
rockclimbers’ injuries;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn5" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[v]</span></a> climbers’
ability to deal with occupational hazards;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn6" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[vi]</span></a>
identifying climbers’ higher than average ‘sensation-seeking dispositions’;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn7" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[vii]</span></a>
and the effects of climbers on the cliffs themselves.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn8" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[viii]</span></a> The growing popularity of rockclimbing
has itself presented traditional climbers with the contradiction that their very
presence in wilderness locations acts to ‘transform, tame, and degrade nature’.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn9" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[ix]</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">At one climbing gym in central Brisbane, an upstairs section
of the building features a room where climbers can relax, hang out, shoot some
pool and listen to music—an Internet café without the Internet. By the mid-1990s in Australia, climbing
had become part of the Extreme Games, a nationally televised event which
includes such sports as skateboarding and hangliding. It regularly features as a ‘cool’ activity in action feature
films like <i>The Eiger Sanction</i>, <i>Cliffhanger</i>, where the central character
is a climber. Rockclimbing is an
important activity which frames the latest manifestation of <i>Mission: Impossible II</i><i></i>. Secret agent
Ethan Hunt’s impossible antics on the huge walls of the Colorado Rockies at the
start of the film features rockclimbing in a way which encapsulates the very
themes of this conference—ethics, events, and entertainment. The much publicised involvement of Tom
Cruise in his own stunts for the film in turn frames rockclimbing as the cool
activity for the new millennium.</span></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;">From its earliest imaginings as a recreation, rockclimbing now
finds itself straddling leisure and sport in the panoply of popular cultural
activities.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn10" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[x]</span></a> But it is not only the activity of
rockclimbing itself which has moved to centre stage in popular culture. What began as specialist outdoor
equipment—from boots to backpacks—now makes up the wardrobes of generations of
people who will never climb a cliff-face nor set foot on a walking track. But this does not mean that those who
climb have ignored this powerful cultural influence—far from it. Climbers have appropriated aspects of
popular culture—like fashion, music, and style—and incorporated these into the
discourse of climbing. Clearly,
climbing is cool—a central part of popular culture—and consumer-friendly. Popular media images from mainstream
print and broadcast outlets to those in niche magazines play an important
discursive role in ‘imagining’ climbing.
But it is far from being a new phenomenon. In the second half of the 19th century, as the
idea of mountaineering became fashionable in parts of Europe, mountaineering
clothing and equipment became especially popular among British tourists ‘even
though one in a hundred got close enough to the icefields to make good use of
their outfits’.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn11" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xi]</span></a> As ever, consumer culture remains ‘a
culture of the spectacle’ and perhaps nowhere more apparent than in the various
modes of modern rockclimbing.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn12" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xii]</span></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Alongside what has become the popular face of climbing, are
diverse and parallel inflections of this cultural activity, each powerfully
defined by sets of ethics that militate against particular practices—even if
safety is a consideration. For
example, in climbing competitions, ‘sport’ climbers don’t need to carry some
safety equipment because it has been previously placed on the artificial
climbing walls they scale. Citing
ethics as a reason for rejecting this approach to climbing, some prefer to
climb in places which enable the use of ‘natural’ protection (lightweight
devices that can be wedged into cracks and removed without causing significant
damage to rock). This ethical
stance is one of the hallmarks of what is now termed ‘adventure’ or ‘traditional’
climbing. The diversification of
climbing has been one inevitable consequence of the complex interaction of
market forces and popular demand.
The ‘event’ of the first ascent has given way—in the popular imaginary
at least—to events of a different sort, more likely to be featured on national
television. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Rockclimbing as a cultural practice emerged in Europe as a
pastime, separate from its predecessor—mountaineering—late in the 19th century. It began as a peculiarly
European and masculine phenomenon with a strong British influence. Some have described the nature of its
emergence as ‘vertical colonialism’ with the idea of climbing being exported by
British mountaineers seeking new challenges in the Americas, Africa and the
Himalayas.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn13" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xiii]</span></a>
But alongside this notion of climbing as a global/colonial phenomenon are
other, local influences—as Bricknell reminds us, leisure practices, like
climbing, are historically produced and socially constructed.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn14" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xiv]</span></a> Kiewa takes this further, describing
leisure as ‘an interactive process of self-construction’.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn15" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xv]</span></a> The experience of climbing, like other
leisure activities such as tourism—with which it has historically had a close
association—takes place in different spatial, temporal and subjective contexts
and this has led to the emergence of ‘different imaginings’ of rockclimbing in
different sites around the world.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn16" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xvi]</span></a> We examine one of these sites in this
paper.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;">While the emergence of mountaineering, then rockclimbing,
within a masculine framework continues to influence climbing in the new
millennium, there have been—and continue to be—some significant challenges to
that.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn17" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xvii]</span></a> Prominent female climbers like
Elizabeth Burnaby LeBlond had emerged late in the 19th century at a
time when the mountains were considered no place for women. The Ladies Alpine Club was formed in
England in 1907. Three years later
across the Pacific, Australian Freda Du Faur became the first woman to climb
Mount Cook in December 1910—and was in the party to complete the first Mt
Cook-Mt Tasman traverse. De Faur
followed this astonishing achievement up with several first ascents in the NZ
Alps. An extraordinary movement in
southeast Queensland 20 years later saw female climbers playing a major
role. The 1930s might well be
called Queensland’s (and Australia’s) ‘golden age’ of climbing. Our research suggests that it
represents a significant moment in the invention of Australian climbing. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;">While a dominant figure during that era was the enigmatic
Queenslander Bert Salmon, several female climbers emerged at that time claiming
first ascents of local and interstate summits. Muriel Patten and Jean Easton stand out as confident and
pioneering in their contribution to this ‘imagining’ process. Salmon regularly climbed with women and
large parties of male and female climbers made numerous ascents of southeast Queensland’s
most challenging summits. Patten
was the first woman to climb the First Sister in the Blue Mountains in 1934 and
Easton became the second a few months later. We take a closer look at this important era later in this
paper.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Our aim here is to look at some influences on the emergence of
the idea of climbing in southeast Queensland. The examples we use here are drawn from our current research
project which has already gathered a rich array of material concerning early
climbing history in Queensland and beyond—newspaper articles, newsletters,
magazines, historical society journals, climbing guides, letters, diaries,
photographs and oral histories.
But we also suggest thinking about climbing as a text—a dynamic process;
a set of practices—discursively produced.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn18" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xviii]</span></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Australian—and more specifically Queensland—climbing and
climbers have been ‘imagined’ in a particular way (Anderson 1984). While the idea of mountaineering
certainly preceded the emergence of climbing in Australia, the very nature of
the landscape here meant that climbing was bound to take on a different persona
from its European antecedent.
Figuring strongly in this discursive construction was the unique
geographical make-up of southeast Queensland—with its diverse collection of
volcanic mountain peaks within range of a major population centre<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn19" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xix]</span></a>—along
with a climate that encouraged the emergence of leisure activities like
walking, scrambling and climbing.
This particular combination of discourses played a crucial role in
shaping modern Australian climbing.
We suggest that this activity in southeast Queensland in the 1930s
played a major role in the emergence of modern Australian climbing culture.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The theme of this conference—ethics, events, and
entertainment—suggests ways in which we might understand climbing from its
earliest incarnations to its current place in mainstream popular culture. And we intend to use these themes
within a broad cultural studies approach as a framework for our paper. Here, we draw from Grossberg’s notion
of the ‘radically contextual’ nature of cultural studies as ‘a discursive space
of alliances’<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn20" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xx]</span></a>—important
elements which inform much of our understanding about climbing and its place as
a popular cultural practice.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<h1 style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></h1>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<h1 style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Climbing as event—first ascents</span></h1>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">It is just
over 200 years since the first recorded European ascent of a peak in southeast
Queensland. In general, the record
of early Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal ascents of southeast Queensland
mountains is not easily accessible. Much of the information concerning possible
early ascents of the mountains of the southeast is either oral history,
recorded by non-Indigenous settlers and academics, or anecdotal as recounted by
non-Indigenous sources. Such reports tend to be either unpublished or included
in broader histories of settlement and exploration. While Aboriginal interest in the mountains of the southeast
for millennia is undeniable—all of the peaks in southeast Queensland are
incorporated in Aboriginal creation stories—it is their interest in climbing
them that is problematic.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn21" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxi]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">There seems
little doubt that Aboriginal people could have climbed all of the mountains in
southeast Queensland—if they had needed or wanted to. There is clear evidence of Indigenous people’s ability to
climb trees and vines so there is little doubt that it was physically
possible. But why would they want
to? </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Two
Aboriginal people accompanied Thomas Archer in 1841 when he climbed Beerwah in
the Glasshouses—there is some suggestion that they showed him the way! But there was a belief at the time that
a spirit lived there and local Aboriginal people kept away, fearing that anyone
who climbed it would go blind.
This did happen to Andrew Petrie who was the first recorded European to
climb the mountain in 1840.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn22" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxii]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Various accounts of stories about
places like Mount Barney</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn23" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxiii]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> and Mount Lindesay</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn24" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxiv]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> centre on Aboriginal ascents of the
mountains—but with dire consequences.
However, there are numerous versions of a story of Aboriginal people
climbing Mount Lindesay using vines hanging down the cliffs prior to the 1840s
when these were destroyed by a bushfire.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn25" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxv]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Although the
first ascent of Mount Lindesay by a non-Aboriginal person has long been assumed
to be in 1872, there is strong evidence to suggest that the mountain’s first
European climber reached the summit around 30 years earlier. It seems highly likely from the
available sources that William Thornton (later Collector of Customs), J.
Kinchela and a third man used vines to reach the summit sometime before the
reported bushfire in the late 1840s.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn26" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxvi]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">The mountains
of southeast Queensland which attract many thousands of recreational climbers
and bushwalkers today were equally attractive to the first non-Aboriginal
people to document their presence.
Cook’s sighting and naming of The Glasshouses, north of Brisbane, and
Matthew Flinders’s subsequent recorded first ascent of one of the group,
Beerburrum, on 26 July, 1799, marked a new age of exploration in southeast
Queensland and played a significant role in the process of ‘imagining’ the new
colony—and climbing.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn27" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxvii]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Thirty years
after Flinders’ ascent in The Glasshouses, the first ascent of Mount Barney by
Captain Patrick Logan on 3 August 1828 played an important role in determining
that it was <i>not</i> Mount Warning but a
separate massif altogether. This
ascent by Logan took place just four years after the establishment of the
Moreton Bay penal settlement. It
seems clear that from this that the British invasion brought more to the colony
than shipload of convicts and their overlords. Clearly, the idea of mountaineering was amongst the colonial
baggage. The <i>Brisbane Courier</i> (1872) records the first few ascents of Beerwah in
The Glasshouses in 1841 along with the presence of explorer Ludwig Leichhardt
(who also climbed Beerwah) in the region a few years later. Climbing activity increased in
southeast Queensland as settlers moved into the area. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">This
important period in which rockclimbing could be equated closely with
exploration offers an opportunity to investigate the history of the idea of
climbing in a local context.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn28" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxviii]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Climbing was well-established internationally at this time,
with the first ascent of Mont Blanc in 1787 before the onset of the ‘Golden
Age’ of mountaineering (1854-1865) during which around 180 great European peaks
were climbed for the first time—the last being the Matterhorn in 1865.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn29" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxix]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> This era, and in particular, the reporting of these
exploits by the colonial press, played a significant role in the emergence of
the idea of climbing—in an Australian sense. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Climbing as
entertainment</b></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">At the turn of the 20th century, a
number of young adventurers from the Boonah district in southeast Queensland,
began scrambling on the nearby peaks and ranges. Following the lead of Milford school teacher Harry Johns,
these early century enthusiasts made numerous ascents of the West Moreton, Main
and McPherson Range peaks in the years to about 1918. There had been occasional climbers and scramblers in
southeast Queensland before this time, but the Boonah ‘Wayfarers’, as they
called themselves, were a new development—they were regulars who viewed
climbing and scrambling as a recreation and a pastime, a point which is quite
evident when we read the newspaper and diary accounts of their exploits.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Whilst the ‘Wayfarers’ were
significant, it is perhaps more accurate to view them as part of a wider
climbing and scrambling culture which emerged in southeast Queensland at this
time, rather than as trail blazing pioneers—and here it is worth noting that
not long after the ‘Wayfarers’ appeared, other regulars started climbing and
scrambling at the Glasshouses, north of Brisbane.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">In all, it is quite remarkable that
a climbing and scrambling culture emerged in southeast Queensland in the early
20th century. The ‘mass
discovery’ of the countryside, for example, did not emerge until postwar in the
UK but there was what the British press described as ‘a hiking boom’ in 1931.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn30" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxx]</span></a> Climbing and scrambling were different
and so far, our research suggests there were no comparable developments
elsewhere in Australia at this time.
It also seems unlikely that local climbers and scramblers had any
significant contact with contemporary British and European mountaineers. Obviously, the ‘Wayfarers’ and the
other early century climbers emerged within a context. In the decade or so before the
‘Wayfarers’ appeared, rambling, cycling and a number of other outdoor pursuits
had become popular amongst the Brisbane and provincial leisured classes.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Harry Johns had been introduced to
the local peaks by R. A. Wearne, one time Ipswich Technical College Principal
and amateur geologist, who took Johns along on rambles in the foothills at Mt
Barney and elsewhere. Throughout
the later 19th century there had been a number of notable one-off
ascents made in southeast Queensland by adventurers such as Murray-Prior and
Pears who climbed Mt Lindesay in 1872.
Before this, in the early 1860s the Roberts /Rowland border survey teams
traversed the McPherson Range, climbing all the peaks en route (the exceptions
being Mt Lindesay and Wilson’s Peak).
In the early 1840s, the Dixon survey team established a station on
Flinders Peak and the Petries and others made a number of ascents of Beerwah in
the Glasshouses. In the early
years of the Moreton Bay settlement in 1828, Logan climbed Mt Barney and
Cunningham had climbed Mt Mitchell.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">There is a sense in which the
Boonah ‘Wayfarers’ and the other early 20th century climbers and
scramblers extended prevailing European ideas of climbing. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Throughout the later 19th century, mountaineering and climbing received a good deal of coverage in the
southeast Queensland press, with numerous accounts of local and overseas
ascents appearing in the newspapers.
One of the earliest items, aptly titled ‘The Mania For Alpine Climbing’<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn31" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxxi]</span></a>
(a report of a mountaineering disaster at Mont Blanc) appeared in the
Queenslander in 1866. It was
followed in 1871 by a brief account of an ascent of Mt Warning<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn32" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxxii]</span></a>
and in the following year by an account of the Murray-Prior/Pears Mt Lindesay
ascent.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn33" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxxiii]</span></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">From about the mid 1880s,
mountaineering and climbing articles started to appear in the local newspapers
more regularly. In 1886 there was
Grenville Kingsley’s rollicking account of his and the Collins brothers’ Mt
Barney ascent<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn34" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxxiv]</span></a>,
followed a few months later by Thomas Welsby’s remarkable series on his
scrambles in the Glasshouses.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn35" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxxv]</span></a> In 1890, Borchgrevink’s dramatic
Ripping Yarns-style account of his and Brown’s Mt Lindesay ascent appeared,<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn36" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxxvi]</span></a>
provoking a Mt Lindesay first ascent debate in the pages of the <i>Brisbane Courier</i>.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn37" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxxvii]</span></a> In 1894, John Hardcastle’s account of
his Wilson’s Peak ascent was published.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn38" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxxviii]</span></a>
followed in 1895 by ‘Quixote’s’ account.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn39" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xxxix]</span></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Throughout this period, there were
reports and accounts of ascents in north Queensland—Sayer and Davidson at
Bellenden Ker in 1887;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn40" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xl]</span></a> Tyson at
Hinchinbrook Island in 1893;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn41" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xli]</span></a> Le Vaux
and Moreton at Bellenden Ker in 1897;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn42" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xlii]</span></a>
and Le Souef at Peter Botte in 1897.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn43" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xliii]</span></a> Archibald Meston’s romantic series of <i>Queenslander</i> articles on his Bellenden
Ker and Mt Alexandra expeditions appeared in 1889,<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn44" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xliv]</span></a>
1892<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn45" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xlv]</span></a>
and 1896,<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn46" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xlvi]</span></a>
along with numerous letters disputing his claims and protesting at his
hyperbole.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">In addition to these local
accounts, reports of Meyer’s ascent of Kilimanjaro appeared in 1888<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn47" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xlvii]</span></a>
and Sir William McGregor’s ascent of Mt Owen Stanley appeared in 1889,<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn48" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xlviii]</span></a>
and there were accounts of Fitzgerald’s New Zealand mountaineering expedition
in 1896,<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn49" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[xlix]</span></a>
Kolb’s ascent of Mt Kenya in 1897<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn50" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[l]</span></a> and the Duke
of Abruzzi’s ascent of Mt St Elias in 1897,<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn51" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[li]</span></a>
to mention a few.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">In the early 20th century, the coverage continued, though with a significant increase in the
number of local articles. Accounts
of ascents of Mt Lindesay appeared in the <i>Queenslander</i>
and <i>Brisbane Courier</i> in 1902, 1904,
1910 and 1913.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn52" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lii]</span></a> Accounts of ascents at Mt Barney
appeared in 1904, and 1914.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn53" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[liii]</span></a> One of the most significant of the
early climbers was Boonah schoolteacher William Gaylard. From around 1910, he added numerous
ascents of peaks and cliffs in southeast Queensland the Blue Mountains to his
long list of achievements.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn54" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[liv]</span></a></span> </div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Editions of
the <i>Brisbane Courier</i> and the <i>Queenslander</i> regularly reported on
climbing exploits at this time and published photographs when they were made
available. The last great
challenge to climbers was Coonowrin (Crookneck) in The Glasshouses group. It was climbed in 1910 by Harry
Mikalsen. Two years later, three sisters
made the first female ascent of the mountain and the first ascent of the
southern face of Coonowrin (also known locally as Crookneck). On 26 May 1912, Sara, Jenny and Etty
Clark were accompanied by Willie Fraser, George Rowley and Jack Sairs. Jenny, Etty, Willie and George had
cycled from Brisbane two days before.
They climbed Tibrogargan on 25 May and Crookneck the
next day. The women wore
‘voluminous gym clothes’ for the climb and then cycled back to Brisbane
afterwards. </span>These events prompted
several articles, including Welsby’s 1911 ‘Crookneck Climbed by Two Sturdy
Queenslanders’<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn55" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lv]</span></a> (a
follow-up on Mikalsen’s Crookneck ascents) and George Rowley’s 1912 account of
the Clark sisters’ Crookneck ascent<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn56" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lvi]</span></a> that also
included summit photographs of the climbers on Crookneck and Tibrogargan.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Throughout this period, accounts of
the Boonah ‘Wayfarers’ ascents and rambles appeared in the Boonah and Ipswich
newspapers, including William Gaylard’s 1912 ‘Fresh Worlds to Conquer’,<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn57" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lvii]</span></a>
in which he invited the recently successful Crookneck climbers to try their
hand at the Fassifern peaks.
However, perhaps some of the most interesting of the newspaper articles
are the exchanges—the 1890 Mt Lindesay first ascent dispute; the
various attempts to establish Mt Lindesay ascent chronologies;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn58" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lviii]</span></a>
advice for would be climbers;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn59" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lix]</span></a> the 1910
Mt Lindesay ascent dispute;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn60" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lx]</span></a> references
to ascents by new routes;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn61" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxi]</span></a> and local
climbing photographs that accompanied the account of the Clark sisters’
Crookneck ascent. Publication of
climbing photographs soon became a regular occurrence in the pages of the
Queensland press.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">In all, the coverage given to
climbing and scrambling in the earlier southeast Queensland press is quite
remarkable, and at this point our research suggests that it was unmatched
elsewhere in Australia. Indeed by
the early 20th century, it is apparent that the local newspapers had
become an established forum, where notable ascents were brought to wider
attention and various climbing issues were periodically raised and debated.
Clearly, the southeast Queensland newspapers were an important site for
imagining climbing, with the press playing an integral role in promoting and sustaining local
climbing discourses. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">There were a number of ways in
which climbing was portrayed in the late 19th and early 20th century southeast Queensland newspapers—ranging from folly;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn62" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxii]</span></a>
through Meston’s romantic account of his Mt Alexandra ascent, complete with
quotes from Milton’s <i>Paradise Lost</i>;<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn63" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxiii]</span></a>)
to various overseas reports where mountaineering was presented within the
framework of European exploration discourses and as part of the wider process
of defining landscape and making it culturally intelligible. However with the exception of Meston’s
articles, Borchgrevink’s account of the 1890 Mt Lindesay ascent (which in many
ways anticipates his later Antarctic writings) and perhaps a few others, the
local articles generally approached climbing and scrambling from a different
angle. So by the late 19th and early 20th century, a new idea of climbing had emerged in the
southeast Queensland press with local articles portraying climbing and
scrambling as something that was possible, as a social activity and as
entertainment <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn64" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxiv]</span></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The emphasis had shifted from
prevailing British and European notions of climbing as exploration, as a
specialist activity, or as the domain of an Alpine Club elite.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">To an extent, the newspaper
coverage climbing and scrambling received was similar to that given to other
adventure-leisure pursuits such as sailing and cycling.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn65" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxv]</span></a> However it is also clear that climbing
emerged in its own right as an established newspaper theme, with the various
reports and articles for the most part reflecting local climbing
discourses. Significantly, our
research suggests that the late 19th and early 20th century ideas of climbing as a social activity—as entertainment—continued in
the southeast Queensland press until about the late 1930s. So even through the late 1920s and
early 1930s, when local climbers such as Bert Salmon and his crowd were
regularly making more difficult ascents, climbing was still imagined in the
press as a social activity, as entertainment, rather than as a sport or a
specialist activity—and we see this in the dozens of climbing articles and
reports which appeared in the newspapers in the 1930’s.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn66" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxvi]</span></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">It is difficult to quantify the
extent to which the press influenced and shaped the development of a climbing
and scrambling culture in southeast Queensland in the early 20th century—and this is an issue we are still considering. Obviously there were other influences,
and here we are looking at the role of individuals such as Harry Johns at
Boonah in the 1900’s and Bert Salmon in the 1930’s, the rise of leisure and the
prevailing leisure discourses, the proximity of the various peaks to centres of
population, improvements in transport, the appearance of the National Parks
Association in the 1930’s, and so on.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Certainly though, the indicators
suggest the newspaper coverage was a significant and at times a leading
influence—and the fact that the coverage continued for more than 50 years from
the mid 1880’s, that reports and accounts of nearly every notable ascent made
in southeast Queensland until the late 1920’s seem to have been published in
the local newspapers, and that some of the climbers themselves kept albums of
the various newspaper climbing articles, all point to a substantial press
influence. In all, it would be
difficult to explain the appearance of the typically southeast Queensland climbing
culture which emerged in the early 20th century without the
influence of the local press in promoting local climbing and scrambling
discourses and forming the way in which local climbers imagined climbing. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<h2 style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-style: normal;"> </span></b></span></h2>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<h2 style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-style: normal;">Climbing culture in the 1930s—the ‘golden age’</span></b></span></h2>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">In
the first few days of 1929, the press reported the first climbing fatality in
southeast Queensland. The story of
the death of the 22 year old Lyle Vidler on Mount Lindesay, dominated press
coverage. Significantly, Vidler, a
climbing companion of Bert Salmon, had died in a solo attempt at a new route up
the mountain. Vidler lies buried
at the base of the cliff. Albert
Armitage (‘AA’ or ‘Bert’) Salmon began his climbing career in earnest in 1925. In 1927 he formed a mountaineering club
in southeast Queensland with Vidler his protégé. At least two other climbing clubs formed in Queensland
around this time, possibly as early as 1926.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn67" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxvii]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> In New South Wales, the Blue
Mountaineers climbing club was formed in 1929. By 1930, Salmon had emerged as a dominant and influential
figure in climbing in the southeast—and in Australia. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Salmon’s
counterpart, in many ways, was Dr Eric Dark, one-time New South Wales
Government Health Officer. Dark
began climbing before Salmon and ventured into Queensland in 1913 to climb both
Mount Lindesay and Mount Barney. While
the two climbed contemporaneously, their methods could not have been more
different. Dark adopted the
European method of using rope as a safety device on his numerous ascents,
climbing some bold new routes in NSW in the Blue Mountains and the Warrumbungles. He was inaugural president of the Blue
Mountaineers, a climbing club based in the Blue Mountains. Salmon’s climbing ethics shunned the
use of rope, except as ‘moral support’.
This approach was adopted by the large parties of men and women who joined
him in his many adventures. They
climbed in lightweight sandshoes or barefoot and there are numerous newspaper
stories and photographs which bear testament to their unroped ascents of Mount
Lindesay and The Glasshouses during this time. Salmon and his climbing partners left an impressive array of
first ascents and new routes across the southeast. Their 1934 visit to the Blue Mountains made history when
Muriel Patten became the first woman to climb the First Sister. On the same visit, Salmon and one of
his climbing companions, George Fraser, scaled the ‘Fly Wall’ at Katoomba
without a rope, much to the amazement of Eric Dark who had insisted that they
use a rope for safety. Salmon said
that at the time he had </span>‘tried my level best for the honour of Queensland
and my own reputation’.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn68" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxviii]</span></a> <span lang="EN-US"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">It was during
this period that women made the first ascents of Mount Lindesay and Leaning
Peak on nearby Mount Barney. It is clear from the diaries, newspaper articles
and photographs of the period that women made up a substantial proportion of
climbers in this era.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn69" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxix]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> One of these was Lexie Wilson,
sister of George Fraser who was one of Salmon’s regular climbing partners. Shortly before her death aged 91,
earlier this year, she described how members of her Brisbane climbing group
would meet for lunch each day outside Wallace Bishop’s jewellers in Queen
Street to plan their weekend’s climb.
The activities of this group was a forerunner of the emergence of
recreation as a key cultural activity in Queensland. Details of their exploits entertained readers of the <i>Brisbane Courier</i>, later <i>The Courier-Mail</i>, until the outbreak of
World War II. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">The ‘golden
age’ of the 1930s marked the end of a significant era in the development of
climbing in Australia. It had
enabled women to take on the most difficult ascents and to claim first ascents
of their own. It had fostered the
emergence of a climbing culture which incorporated significant numbers of
women. Kiewa describes how contemporary female
climbers get a sense of empowerment and control from their involvement in
climbing.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn70" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxx]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> It seems reasonable to suggest that their predecessors in
the 1930s experienced similar feelings.
Ironically, it would be another 60 years before women returned to
climbing in the same relative numbers.
The idea of rockclimbing had experienced a discursive shift from
exploration to recreation—with elements of sport—demanding more of its
participants than being first to the top.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn71" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxi]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">This
important development in Queensland seems to be unique in terms of its extent
and the way in which it attracted so many young women. Climbing was also popular at the time
in the Blue Mountains, largely through the influence of Eric Dark. Available evidence suggests it was less
popular and involved women to a lesser extent than in Queensland. Nevertheless, climbing in the Blue
Mountains was a popular activity and was promoted as ‘a health-giving sport for
women’ in one article by the <i>Australian
Women’s Mirror</i>: </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent3" style="margin: 6pt 0cm 6pt 36pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">At Katoomba, in the Blue Mountains of
NSW, systematic rock-climbing as a pastime and exercise for women was initiated
as a means of encouraging visitors to the mountains to explore their unknown
beauties, but it so soon gripped attention that rock-climbing for its own sake
has attracted numbers of devotees, enough to establish a rock-climbers’ club
which includes both men and women members.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn72" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxii]</span></a>
<span lang="EN-US"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">In both
Queensland and New South Wales, the idea of rockclimbing had been enshrined in
popular culture, well before the war.
For the rest of Australia, it would remain a post-war phenomenon.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<h1 style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Ethics and post-war
climbing</span></span></h1>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">By the late
1940s in Queensland, there were few unclimbed peaks or large rock outcrops
left. This period was marked by
the emergence of university climbing and bushwalking clubs. The first named climbs and climbing
guidebooks appeared at this time, coinciding with the banishment of climbing
articles from the popular press.
This signalled a significant discursive shift in ways of constituting
the climbing landscape.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn73" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxiii]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> As theorists like Demeritt argue, it represents a way
of conceiving of nature as ‘both a real material actor and a socially
constructed object’.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn74" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxiv]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> In many ways, control of this
process of representation was relegated to the editors of club newsletters and
magazines. Mainstream newspapers
were now interested in climbing only when it complied with post-war news
values—accidents, deaths and sensationalism.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">While the
influence of Bert Salmon remained—he climbed well into his 70s—introduction of
ropes and other rudimentary climbing equipment changed the face of Queensland
climbing forever. The introduction
of ropes as an integral part of rockclimbing practice represented a significant
ethical shift in modern climbing in Queensland. Eric Dark had long used rope as a safety device in his first
ascents of rock faces in the Warrumbungles but Salmon’s influence north of the
border was profound. The use of
pitons—metal blades hammered into rock crevices for protection—emerged at this
time as part of rockclimbing practice.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">The
University of Queensland Bushwalking Club was host for a wave of young men and
women who focussed on remote, wilderness areas like The Steamers—a formation of
rock pillars on the Main Range, east of Warwick. The first of three incarnations of the Brisbane Rockclimbing
Club emerged briefly at this time.
Climbers from both clubs set about putting up bold new routes on the
steep east face of Tibrogargan in The Glasshouses requiring the use of climbing
equipment and sophisticated rope techniques.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn75" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxv]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> One member of this pioneering
group, Jon Stephenson, went on to lead major expeditions to the Karakorums,
near Pakistan, and participated in the 1957 Trans-Antarctica Expedition.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn76" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxvi]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Apart from New South Wales, climbing began to spread to
other parts of the country. The
1950s seems to have been a catalyst for the idea of climbing to emerge in the
southern States and the West.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn77" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxvii]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">At the close
of the 1950s, climbers searched for new and more difficult routes. One of the most significant was the
ascent of the east face of Coonowrin (Crookneck) in 1959 by a party of
university climbers, led by Ron Cox.
Cox led a number of new routes on major cliffs of southeast Queensland
and was the first to descend the huge east face of Mount Barney, using the new
rope techniques and equipment.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn78" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxviii]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> In 1966, an expatriate English
climber, Les Wood, joined with several local climbers—particularly Donn
Groom—to put up a series of difficult routes on cliff-faces in the
southeast. Even today, they are
rarely repeated because of their technical difficulty and their unprotected
nature. At the same time, Donn
Groom, son of the founder of Binna Burra Lodge in Lamington National
Park—Arthur Groom—developed a climbing cliff near the lodge and often partnered
Wood on his visionary ascents elsewhere.
When Les Wood moved to Tasmania, a brief lull settled on climbing
activity in the southeast. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Late 1960s, a
new wave swept through the climbing community, applying a new ethical approach
which rejected the use of pitons for protection in favour of wedged aluminium
chocks based on the very latest American-designed equipment. Much of this climbing gear was
manufactured locally until the cost of more sophisticated versions of it made
in the United States began to fall.
This new wave emerged at the time of the so-called ‘ecological
revolution’ of the 1960s which saw mountains and climbing gaining popular
appeal.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn79" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxix]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> While this was a movement which was
of particular significance in the United States, it had a huge impact in
Australia. The influence and power
of popular culture at the time is evident in the names of new climbs which
emerged. Especially influential
was the popular music scene, with many climbs able to be accurately dated on
name alone—<i>Magical Mystery Tour</i>, <i>Badfinger</i>, <i>Electric Prune</i>, <i>Conquistador</i>
are all climbs put up at Mount French during the late 1960s and early 1970s and
reflect the dominance of rock music culture. This link between music and the study of social life is
another aspect of climbing culture yet to be undertaken although some have
recognised its potential.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn80" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxx]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">South of the
border, Sydney-based climbers Bryden Allen and John Ewbank had a powerful
influence on climbing ethics, particularly railing against the overuse of
expansion bolts drilled into cliff faces for protection. Ewbank and Allen consistently made
first ascents of what were at the time, the hardest routes in Australia in the
Blue Mountains and The Warrumbungles.
Debates on the ethical dimensions of climbing raged in what was
Australia’s major climbing magazine, <i>Thrutch</i>. Although published by the Sydney Rockclimbing
Club, it featured a round-up of climbing news and issues from across the
country. Ewbank’s approach to the
use of more ethically- and environmentally-friendly protection was quickly
adopted by climbers from the Brisbane Rockclimbing Club, led by Brisbane
stalwart, Rick White. This phase
saw the dominance of new jam-climbing techniques which opened up previously
unclimbed cliffs and routes.
Jamming involved climbing vertical and overhanging cracks in cliff faces
using wedged fingers, hands and feet rather than relying on ledges as hand and
footholds. White started up a
climbing importation business which subsequently grew into one of Australia’s
largest commercial venture in outdoor recreation, <i>Mountain Designs</i>. Queensland was once again at the forefront of
rockclimbing as a recreation in Australia. This culminated in the discovery and development of Mount
French—a cliff near Boonah—in 1968.
Within three years, it had become Australia’s premier climbing crag with
climbers from the UK and the USA visiting regularly to test out the many
routes. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Another key
ethical shift in the nature of climbing took place in 1985 with the ‘overnight’
arrival of chalk as a climbing aid in Australia. Popular amongst North American climbers for some years
previously, chalk is used by climbers to absorb sweat from fingers and hands,
thus improving their grip on rock surfaces. It was quickly taken up around the country and by the early
1990s, it was rare indeed to see a climber who did not carry a small bag filled
with chalk dust. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Around the
same time as the arrival of chalk, the use of expansion bolts as protective
devices on climbs in Queensland began to increase. This, too, represented a shift in the ethical dimension of
climbing which had been established since its very emergence in
Queensland. The ethical debate
continues. Climbing as a cultural
practice now boasts many thousands of participants Australia-wide and impacts
significantly on cultural policy, particular in relation to issues such as
tourism and the environment. For
example, the development of Mount French as a rockclimbing cliff was a major
factor in the area being declared a National Park in the 1970s. The links between climbing and tourism
have existed since the 18th century when the popularity of
mountaineering began to attract tourists to Chamonix in the French Alps.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn81" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxxi]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">By the early
1990s, ‘sport’ climbing emerged alongside ‘traditional’ or ‘adventure’
climbing. Largely focussing on
gymnasiums, this new approach represented an alternative to the dominance of
the era of ‘adventure’ climbing—it was a sport which could be undertaken almost
entirely indoors. Equipment
developments have continued at an alarming rate, drawing mainly from the
technologies of the United States.
Now, rockclimbing has again attracted media interest but relegated to
events such as the ‘Extreme Games’ or the Climbing World Finals—a circuit of
sports-climbing events held throughout Europe, attracting television coverage
featuring participants who are treated (and paid) like rock stars.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn82" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxxii]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Climbing as
entertainment and spectacle has re-emerged, reclaiming media space but this
time as a central element of popular culture. Within climbing discourse, the central place of ethics as a
defining characteristic of climbing has moved to centre stage.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<h1 style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Conclusion</span></span></h1>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Climbing
culture emerged in southeast Queensland out of a range of often competing and
contradictory discourses—from Aboriginal creation myths, a unique landscape,
the influence of the European idea of climbing and charismatic and visionary
local individuals. The role of the
colonial press was crucial in this imagining process with extensive reporting
of the activities of local climbers, particularly from the turn of the 20th century. The 1930s, in particular,
represent a defining moment in the evolution of climbing culture in Australia
with significant numbers of men and women engaging in practices which framed
the development of modern rockclimbing.
This climbing culture seems to have had its genesis in southeast
Queensland although the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, can also claim to be a
centre of activity from the 1930s.
It is clear from the sketchy evidence available, that the use of ropes
for protection was more the norm in the Blue Mountains than in Queensland. The hardy Queenslanders—influenced by
Bert Salmon—shunned the use of ropes except in emergencies. Perhaps it was the case that Queensland
climbing culture placed more emphasis on the social rather than the technical
side of climbing. Maybe it was
this important difference that contributed to the greater popularity of
climbing in southeast Queensland, particularly amongst women. This high female participation rate in
what is still regarded as a high-risk sport ended with World War I and was not
to re-emerge for another 60 years.
These ideas resonate with Kiewa’s study of the community of rockclimbers
in southeast Queensland. She
concluded that female rockclimbers tended to place more emphasis on
relationships inherent in the climbing process—in other words the social—than
on the physical challenge of climbing.
This emphasis on the social aspects of climbing was not so strongly
present in the attitudes of the male climbers. However, the more experienced they were, the more they
tended to emphasise the importance of the social.</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn83" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxxiii]</span></a><span lang="EN-US"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">By the end of
World War II, coverage of climbing had all but vanished from the news pages of
Queensland’s newspapers but re-emerged in niche publications catering for the
emerging numbers of bushwalkers and climbers. A post-war focus on consumerism and nation-building by the
popular press meant that climbing as a recreation was featured only in
sensational circumstances.
Representations of climbing were relegated to the specialist newsletters
and magazines of a growing leisure culture. So as climbing had become more technical and bold, popular
media interest focussed on the failures rather than the successes. First ascents of new routes were significant
only if it meant that new summits were reached and as we have argued here, this
had largely been achieved by early in the 20th century. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;">While the idea of climbing in Australia was produced from
colonial histories, it continues to be socially constructed—imagined in a
specific spatial, temporal and subjective context.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn84" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxxiv]</span></a> We suggest that climbing should be seen
as a dynamic notion—a set of cultural practices which constitutes rockclimbing
‘landscapes’ and enables climbers to engage in interactive processes like
identity/self-construction and camaraderie.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn85" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxxv]</span></a></span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">Our project
seeks to begin to make sense of the cultural place of rockclimbing in relation
to ideas such as ‘exploration’, ‘recreation’, and ‘diversification’. It has begun to examine the role of men
and women in the development of the contemporary rockclimbing industry. </span>Climbing itself has become a
community cultural activity—one might even argue a culture industry—with its
own language, signs, symbols and style.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn86" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxxvi]</span></a> It is in this context that the role of
the media in this process becomes important to examine. The media in all their varied forms
represent a cultural resource and a primary discursive site for imagining
climbing.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_edn87" name="_ednref" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference">[lxxxvii]</span></a> The oral histories yet to be gathered
potentially offer another rich cultural resource and a further insight into how
Australian culture is made.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<h1 style="margin: 6pt 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></h1>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Endnotes</b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br clear="all" /></span>
</div>
<div>
<hr align="left" size="1" style="height: 2px;" width="33%" />
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn1" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[i]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Dan Morgan, ‘It began with the piton. The challenge to British Rock Climbing in a Post-Modernist
Framework’, in <i>Leisure: Modernity,
Postmodernity, and Lifestyles</i>, <i>Publication
No. 48</i>, ed Ian Henry, Leisure Studies Association, Brighton, 1994, pp.
341-342. </span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn2" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[ii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> See the association’s website at www.austclimbinggyms.com.au.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn3" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[iii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> C. M. Mermier, R. A. Robergs, S. M. Mcminn, and V. H. Hayward,
‘Energy expenditure and physiological responses during indoor rock climbing’, <i>British Journal of Sports Medicine</i>, vol.
31, issue 3, 1997, pp. 224-228.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn4" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[iv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> S. R. Bollen and V. Wright, ‘Radiographic changes in the hands of
rock climbers’, <i>British Journal of Sports
Medicine</i>, vol. 28, issue 3, 1994, pp. 185-186.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn5" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[v]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> J. P. Wyatt, G. W. McNaughton and P. T. Grant, ‘A prospective study
of rock climbing injuries’, <i>British
Journal of Sports Medicine</i>, vol. 30, issue 2, 1996, pp. 148-150; R. Schad,
‘Analysis of climbing accidents’, <i>Accident
Prevention and Analysis</i>, no. 32, 2000, pp. 391-396.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn6" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[vi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Paul M. Jakus and W. Douglass Shaw, ‘Empirical analysis of rock
climbers’ response to hazard warnings’, <i>Risk
Analysis</i>, vol. 16, issue 4, 1996, pp. 581-586.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn7" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[vii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> S. J. Jack and K. R. Ronan, ‘Sensation seeking among high- and
low-risk sports participants’, <i>Personality
and Individual Differences</i>, no. 25, 1998, pp. 1063-1083.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn8" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[viii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> P. E. Kelly and D. W. Larson, ‘Effects of rock climbing on
populations of presettlement eastern white cedar on cliffs of the Niagara
escarpment, Canada’, <i>Conservation Biology</i>,
volume 11, issue 5, 1997, pp. 1125-1132; and R. J. Camp and R. L. Knight,
‘Effects of rock climbing on cliff plant communities at Joshua Tree National
Park, California’, <i>Conservation Biology</i>,
vol. 12, issue 6, 1998, pp. 1302-1306.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn9" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[ix]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Barbara R. Johnston and Ted Edwards, ‘The commodification of mountaineering’,
<i>Annals of Tourism Research</i>, vol. 21,
no. 3, 1994, pp. 450-473.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn10" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[x]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Peter Donnelly, ‘Social climbing: a case study of the changing
class structure of rock climbing and mountaineering in Britain’, in <i>Studies in the sociology of Sport</i>, eds
A. O Dunleavy, AW Miracle, and CR Rees, Texas Christian University Press, Fort
Worth, 1982.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn11" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Lynne Withey, <i>Grand Tours and
Cook’s Tours: A history of leisure travel, 1750-1915</i>, Aurum Press, London,
1998, p. 214. </span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn12" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Alan Tomlinson, ‘Consumer culture and the aura of the commodity’,
in <i>Consumption, Identity and Style:
marketing, meanings and the packaging of pleasure</i>, ed Alan Tomlinson,
Routledge, London, 1990, p. 31. </span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn13" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xiii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Peter Nettlefold and Elaine Stratford ‘The production of Climbing
Landscapes-as-texts’, <i>Australian
Geographical Studies</i>, vol. 37, no. 2, 1999, p. 132. </span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn14" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xiv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Louise Bricknell, ‘Leisure? According to who?’ in <i>Leisure: Modernity, Postmodernity, and
Lifestyles</i>, Publication No. 48, ed Ian Henry, Leisure Studies Association,
Brighton, 1994, p. 45.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn15" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Jacqueline Kiewa, <i>Climbing to
Enchantment: A study of the community of traditional climbers in southeast
Queensland</i>, unpublished PhD thesis, Faculty of Business and Commerce,
Griffith University, Brisbane, 2000, p. 383.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn16" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xvi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Withey, p. 205. </span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn17" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xvii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Withey, p. 208; Nettlefold and Stratford, p. 131.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn18" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xviii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Michael Real, Supermedia, Sage, Newbury Park, 1989; Nettlefold and
Stratford, p. 131.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn19" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xix]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> N. C. Stevens, <i>Queensland
Field Geology Guide</i>, Brisbane, Geological Society of Australia (Queensland
Division), 1984.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn20" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xx]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Lawrence Grossberg, ‘<span style="letter-spacing: -0.15pt;">Cultural
Studies’, a keynote address at the International Communication Association
annual conference, Sydney, 11-15 July,</span> 1994.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn21" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> , John G. Steele, <i>Aboriginal
Pathways in Southeast Queensland and the Richmond River</i>, University of
Queensland Press, Brisbane, 1984.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn22" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Reginald Wise, ‘A climb up Coonowrim (sic)’, <i>Queenslander</i>, 23 September, 1916, pp. 21, 29; Steele, p. 174;
Michelle Grossman and Denise Cuthbert, ‘Forgetting Redfern: Aboriginality in
the New Age’, <i>Meanjin</i>, 4, 1998,
pp.770-778.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn23" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxiii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Arthur Groom, ‘Mount Barney’s Legend’, <i>Brisbane Courier</i>, 19 November, 1932, p.19. </span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn24" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxiv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> J. D. Lang, <i>Queensland
Australia, </i>1861. </span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn25" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Lang 1861; Mary E. Murrray-Prior, ‘An ascent of Mount Lindsay
(sic)’, <i>Queenslander</i>, 1 November.
1902; William Gaylard, ‘Mount Lindsay (sic): story of a successful climb—some
tense moments’, <i>Brisbane Courier</i>, 2
August, 1913, p. 12.; N. C. Hewitt, ‘Mt Lindesay fatality: former ascents
recalled’, <i>Beaudesert Times</i>, 25
January 1929.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn26" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxvi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Murray Prior 1902; ‘Traveller’, ‘Mt Lindesay’, <i>Brisbane Courier</i>, 3 October, 1923.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn27" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxvii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> See F. W. Whitehouse, ‘Early ascents of the Glasshouses’, <i>Heybob</i>, vol. 8, 1966, p. 74; Benedict
Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of
Nationalism, Verso, London, 1984.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn28" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxviii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> This idea of discourse is drawn from Michel Foucault, <i>The Archaeology of Knowledge</i>, Tavistock,
London, 1972.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn29" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxix]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> John Cleare, <i>Mountains of the
World</i>, Crown, New York, 1975, p. 16-17.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn30" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxx]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Alan Tomlinson and Helen Walker, ‘Holidays for all: popular
movements, collective leisure, and the pleasure industry’, in <i>Consumption, Identity and Style</i>, ed A.
Tomlinson, Routledge, London, 1990, p. 233.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn31" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxxi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘The Mania For Alpine Climbing’, Queenslander, 29 December 1866. </span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn32" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxxii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘The Southern Border’, Queenslander, 1 April 1871.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn33" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxxiii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Ascent of Mount Lindsay’, Brisbane Courier, 18 May 1872.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn34" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxxiv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘A Trip Up Mount Barney’, Queenslander, 6 November 1886.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn35" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxxv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘To the Top of the Glass Mountains’, Queenslander, 12 June 1886.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn36" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxxvi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Ascent of Mount Lindsay’, Queenslander, 26 July 1890. A brief initial report appeared in the
Brisbane Courier, 14 July 1890.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn37" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxxvii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Ascent of Mount Lindsay’, Brisbane Courier, 15 July 1890; Brisbane
Courier, 19 July 1890; Brisbane Observer (the evening ‘Courier’), 26 July 1890.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn38" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxxviii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘A Day Amongst the Clouds’, Queenslander, 12 May 1894.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn39" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xxxix]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Where Three Rivers Rise’, Queenslander, 28 February 1895.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn40" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xl]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Mount Bellenden-Ker’, Queenslander, 9 July 1887.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn41" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xli]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘A Climb on Hinchinbrook’, Queenslander, 30 December 1893.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn42" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xlii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Bellenden-Ker—A Successful Ascent’, Queenslander, 27 November
1897.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn43" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xliii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘The Ascent of Peter Botte’, Queenslander, 1 May 1897.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn44" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xliv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘The Bellenden-Ker Expedition’, Queenslander, 12 October 1889.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn45" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xlv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Revisiting Bellenden-Ker’, Queenslander, 27 February 1892.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn46" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xlvi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Wild Country and Wild Tribes XIV’, Queenslander, 10 April 1897.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn47" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xlvii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Kilima-Njaro Conquered at Last’, Queenslander, 14 January 1888.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn48" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xlviii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Ascent of Mount Owen Stanley’, Queenslander, 20 July 1889.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn49" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[xlix]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Climbing in the New Zealand Alps’, Queenslander, 31 October 1896.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn50" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[l]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Mountaineering in Africa’, Queenslander, 3 April 1897.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn51" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[li]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Ascent of Mt Elias’, Queenslander, 4 December 1897.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn52" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘An Ascent of Mount Lindsay’, <i>Queenslander</i>,
1 November 1902; ‘Climbing Mount Lindsay’, Queenslander, 23 January 1904;
‘Successful Ascent of Mt Lindsay’, <i>Brisbane
Courier</i><b>,</b> 19 May 1910; ‘Mount
Lindsay—Story of a Successful Climb’, Brisbane Courier, 2 August 1913.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn53" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[liii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘An Ascent of Mount Barney’, Queenslander, 15 October 1904; ‘A
Climb Up Mount Barney’, Queenslander, 20 June 1914.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn54" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[liv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Alpine Climbers’, <i>Blue
Mountain Echo</i>, 17 January 1919.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn55" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Crookneck Climbed By Two Sturdy Queenslanders’, <i>Queenslander</i>, 18 March 1911.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn56" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lvi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘A Week-end at Glass-House Mountains’, <i>Queenslander</i>, 1 June 1912.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn57" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lvii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Fresh Worlds to Conquer’, <i>Fassifern
Guardian</i>, 14 June 1912.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn58" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lviii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Ascent of Mount Lindesay’, Brisbane Courier, 19 July 1890; ‘Ascent
of Mt Lindsay’, <i>Queenslander</i>, 1 November
1902; ‘Mount Lindsay—records of Ascents’, Brisbane Courier, 6 October 1923.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn59" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lix]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Climbing Mount Lindsay’,<i>
Queenslander</i>, 23 January 1904.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn60" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lx]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Ascent of Mount Lindsay’, Brisbane Courier, <i>Queenslander</i>, 1 June 1910; ‘The Ascent of Mt Lindsay’,<i> Queenslander</i>, 4 June 1910.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn61" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘A Week-end at Glass-House mountains’, Brisbane Courier, 1 June
1912.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn62" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘The Mania For Alpine Climbing’, <i>Queenslander</i>, 29 December 1866.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn63" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxiii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> ‘Wild Country and Wild Tribes’,<i>
Queenslander</i>, 10 April 1897.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn64" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxiv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> See ‘To the Top of the Glass Mountains’,<i> Queenslander</i>, 12 June 1886 and the various ‘Wayfarers’’ reports,
including ‘Ascent of Wilson’s Peak’, Fassifern Guardian, 8 August 1910.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn65" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Examples include ‘A Cruise Round Moreton Bay’,<i> Queenslander</i>, 29 March 1873, and ‘Cycling Trip—Warwick to
Cunnamulla’,<i> Queenslander</i>, 17 July
1909.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn66" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxvi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Examples include ‘Mountain Climbing is Great Fun’, Sunday Mail, 29
May 1932, ‘Up Among the Peaks—Joys of Mountaineering’, Telegraph, 29 March
1934, and ‘Let’s Go Mountaineering’, <i>Queenslander
Annual</i>, 4 November 1935.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn67" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxvii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Clem Lack, ‘Mountain Climbers of Queensland’, <i>The Sunday Mail</i> Magazine Section, 10 July 1938.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn68" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxviii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Lack, 1938.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn69" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxix]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> C. C. D. Brammall, ‘Australia’s strangest mountains: The Glass
House Mountains of Queensland’, <i>Walkabout</i>,
1 February 1939, pp.38-41.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn70" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxx]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Kiewa, 2000, p. 398.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn71" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Pierre Bourdieu, ‘Sport and Social Class’, <i>Social Science Information</i>, vol. 17, part. 6, 1978; and ‘How can
one be a sports fan?’, in <i>The Cultural
Studies Reader</i>, ed S. During, Routledge, London, 1993.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn72" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Nina Lowe, ‘Rock-climbing: A health-giving sport for Women’, <i>The Australian Woman’s Mirror</i>, December
22 1931, p. 22.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn73" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxiii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Nettlefold and Stratford, p. 137.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn74" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxiv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> D. Demeritt, ‘The nature of metaphors in cultural geography and
environmental history’, <i>Progress in Human
Geography</i>, vol. 18, issue 2, 1994, pp. 163-185.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn75" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Bob Waring, ‘First ascents of the Steamers’, <i>Heybob</i>, vol. 5, 1963, pp. 3-6.; Alan Frost, ‘Some less frequently
tried scrambles in the Glasshouses’, <i>Heybob</i>,
vol. 5, 1964, pp. 49-51.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn76" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxvi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Keith J Miller, ‘Return to the Himalayas’, <i>Heybob</i>, vol. 5, 1964, pp. 16-19. </span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn77" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxvii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> David John James, <i>Climb when
ready</i>, Hesperian Press, Victoria Park, 1996; Chris Baxter, Editorial in <i>Rock</i>, no. 40, 1999, p. 3.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn78" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxviii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Graham Hardy, ‘A long abseil’, <i>Heybob</i>,
vol. 5, 1963, pp. 79-72.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn79" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxix]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Cleare, p. 96.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn80" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxx]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> L. Kong, ‘Popular music in geographic analysis’, <i>Progress in Human Geography</i>, vol. 19,
issue 2, 1995, pp. 183-198; S. J. Smith, ‘Beyond geography’s visible worlds: a
cultural politics of music’, <i>Progress in
Human Geography</i>, vol. 21, issue 4, 1997, pp. 502-529.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn81" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxxi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Withey, p. 205.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn82" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxxii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Morgan, pp. 341-342.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn83" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxxiii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Kiewa, pp. 412-413.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn84" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxxiv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> See Withey, p. 205 and Bricknell, p. 45.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn85" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxxv]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Kiewa, p. 383; Aviv Shoham, Gregory M. Rose and Lynn R. Kahle,
‘Practitioners of Risky Sports: A Quantitative Examination’, <i>Journal of Business Research</i>, no. 47,
2000, p. 248.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn86" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxxvi]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Dick Hebdige, <i>Subculture: the
meaning of style</i>, Methuen, London, 1979.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="edn">
<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=16497068#_ednref" name="_edn87" title=""><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US">[lxxxvii]</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> Antonio Gramsci, <i>A Gramsci
Reader: Selected Writings 1916-1935</i>, ed David Forgacs, Lawrence and
Wishart, London, 1988; Renate Holub, <i>Antonio
Gramsci: Beyond Marxism and Postmodernism</i>, Routledge, London, 1992.</span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com3