The Wall

Pink Floyd had it so right when they sang "I have become comfortably numb".

Typical library-goers on a Canberra summer evening.

Summer training for Canberra-based rock climbers involves spending lots of time at the National Library of Australia - studious lot, we are!

Never under-estimate rock climbers' capacity for finding climbable surfaces in any landscape and using them for pet bouldering projects and/or climbing practice.

Bouldering is a form of rock climbing that's done on boulders (duh!!) or any other rock-like surface - such as the external blue-stone wall of the National Library of Australia ground floor. Bouldering is generally done without ropes or harnesses but most folk use their climbing shoes and hand chalk to enhance grip - the idea is to practise climbing moves, build stamina and flexibility, and strengthen fingers and feet, all at a "safe" distance from the ground.

There are such things as bouldering mats, too - rubbery pads that are positioned under the bouldering surface so as to prevent fall injuries, but the architects of the NLA very considerately arranged for lush turf to be laid out at the base of each NLA wall, and from my personal experience I can vouch for its cushy landing properties.

On any summer evening, when daylight extends past formal office hours, a line-up of climbers is to be found traversing in formation - all the way left and then back to the right - most commonly on the northern NLA wall. Chalky fingerprints mark the popular hand holds, and also indicate the number of days since it last rained.

At some stage many years ago, the NLA security guards were numerous and bored enough to keep chasing climbers off The Wall. These days, however, climbers have free reign of the blue-stone and can relaxedly enjoy the idyllic surrounds, which often include gentle music emanating from the outdoor café/bar on the terrace above the northern wall.

Walls aren't created equally

Bouldering along the northern-facing longer NLA wall.

One assumes that the brickies who laid down the big blue-stone bricks at the NLA simply hauled them off the palettes and onto each wall stack in random order. No specialist stone-masonry skills were required, as the bricks are all of the same shape and size in two directions. So unless those brickies were closet climbers, the sequence of face scoops and ridges laid out across the blue-stone walls must have been laid out randomly.

As it happens, the random sequence (as well as the relative lengths of each wall section) has effected a hierarchy of difficulty for bouldering at the NLA.

The northern, longer wall of the NLA is the most popular; its length, and degree and sequence of bumpiness, lend themselves nicely to testing the stamina of the average competent climber without totally pissing them off. It has the added bonus of providing an interesting extension for those who can manoeuvre their way around the left-most 90-degree corner and continue along the shortish eastern wall. The polished nature of potential footholds and finger grips right along the northern longer wall attests to its long-term and ongoing favour with self-respecting local climbers.

The northern medium-length wall, and the west-facing longest wall, are frequented only by demi-Gods with wings and/or suction cups for fingers and toes. If you're lucky, you might know a friend of a friend who has conquered the Great Long Western Wall of the NLA. Champagne parties have been thrown on completion of a full traverse.

The north-facing shortest wall, by contrast, is for weenies and newbies such as me - it's only six blue-stone bricks long, is devoid of awkward ventilation grills pumping out musty book vapours, and many of the stones have gratifyingly definite finger holds and foot ledges. Since no self-respecting climber would be seen dead hanging from this "easy" wall, the scoops and edges are also as beautifully rough (read grippy) as when they were first chiseled, rather than being polished perilously smooth like the more popular walls are. This wall is my friend.

Go hang

My first visit to The Wall was last summer: January 2014. Climber Boy and I dutifully rode our bikes there one evening after work and joined the growing throng of chalk-fingered folk milling about on the lawns in front of the northern walls. CB stepped up onto the longer wall and stuck there like he was glued on, then deftly padded his way to the left, stone brick by stone brick, gently placing hand and foot in sequence and moving his body in smooth progression. Quite beautiful, really. Then I stepped up onto the wall ... and just as quickly slithered right off. Then again - on ... off ... on ... off ... on ... offfffffffff ... FCUK OFF in fact!! Temper redlining already ... CB holding out at the other end of the longer wall and wisely keeping his distance now.

OK, let's try the short north wall. The fact that no-one else is hanging off it makes me immediately suspicious, but I manage to rally my nerves just enough to have ... YET ANOTHER ... go. CB good naturedly shows me how it's done; he steps on and - again - sticks there steadily ... no surprises there. I step on, somewhat more tentatively, positioning fingers and feet on the exact same scoops and edges on which CB found purchase so apparently effortlessly ... and remain suspended there for a fraction of a microsecond before peeling off and leaving at least the first few thousand surface molecules of finger skin behind, smeared onto the coarse blue-stone surface. Another two goes at this and I'm practically devoid of fingerprint ...

OK, enough pain and humiliation for one day.

On my subsequent visits to The Wall I bring a sarong. I have a few goes at The Wall, until my finger pads are red and too sensitive to bear any further contact, then quietly perform my yoga routine on the lawn while the climbing community executes their traverses behind me. I intersperse asanas with another step on - peel off skit. The microseconds in between the two sometimes stretch to milliseconds; never long enough for me to progress to the next hand or foot hold, but my finger pads are gradually leathering up and losing sensitivity - which can only be a good thing - thanks to the constant sand-papering they're receiving.

As I said - comfortably numb!