Research taught us that Victoria's Arapiles were considered world class. Okay, but they don't look like much more than a pile of choss in pictures: flat, flat farmland and one mangled blob of grainy, pocketed quartzite. But The Pines Campground, perhaps OZ's Camp 4, bustled with clanking gear, wobbling slack lines and myriad foreign accents. Other Climbers! Having suffered such a drought of like-minded rock lovers in Tassie, we basked in sounds and conversations we hadn't experienced in a month. Setting up our tent in what we hoped would be a semi-permanent spot, we quickly racked up and strolled the entire 200 meters to The Organ Pipes, an area rife with moderate, exposed, well protected classics... or so the guide book said.
The apparent pile of choss was tremendous quality quartzite, immovably hard and shaped in every conceivable climber-friendly formation. No more than 10 meters off the belay got us to a spectacular view. We topped out on "D-minor" at sunset, in time to see the rock lit up gold and the endless clear sky surrounding. Kukaburra's laughed, guitars strummed, hamocks swayed... Okay, Arapiles, you win.
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