Scaling new heights at Parangdoc cliffs
YOGYAKARTA (JP): Parangdoc's steep, stained limestone walls rise up from a hill overlooking West Java's coast. Reaching up to 100 meters high in some places, they stretch in a more or less unbroken line for almost a kilometer. Since the mid-1970s the cliffs have been a major venue for Indonesian rock climbers, who arrive from nearby Yogyakarta every weekend to test their nerves, strength and skill.
On this particular morning the usual crowd were already arriving. Andi and Mega from Yogyakarta on a broken-down motorbike laden with equipment. Ester, with sleep in his eyes, from wherever he had spent the night.
Ibu Maryati was opening up her food stall for them, as she has been doing for as long as anyone can remember. The fried bananas which she laid out on the counter were being taken; payment would come at the end of the day. Tea was drunk and equipment sorted. The climbers left early, knowing that by mid-morning the sun would have appeared from behind the cliffs, and anyone left upon them would regret starting late.
Rosyid and I decided to partner each other on a climb. Using a rope in combination with a friction or belay device, small slings and metal chocks, we were confident we could climb the cliff.
I set off first, with Rosyid paying out the rope through the belay device. I climbed up a huge cleft in the cliff, stopping only to wedge chocks into cracks, which I then clipped into the rope using a carabiner. It pays to take your time doing this; in the event of a fall, it's these chocks which will hopefully stop a falling climber.
Running out of rope, I anchored myself to a lone tree in the middle of the face, and hanging in my harness, began to belay for Rosyid. It was just possible to make out the voices of other climbers at the bottom of the cliff. The sheer drop to them below my feet was unnerving. I was relieved when Rosyid came into view after 10 minutes.
A quick rest and he set off to lead the second stage of the climb, while I watched the rope for him. He made good progress up the vertical, at times overhanging wall, his hours spent training on the climbing wall clearly showing and before long he was out of sight.
"I'm safe. Climb when you're ready," Rosyid called down to me, having first secured himself at the top. I started upwards and quickly realized he had made it look easy. Some anxious moments followed: Could I reach that hold? If I do, am I strong enough to grip it? I eventually found the right sequence of moves needed to continue upward and, with failing arms, joined Rosyid sitting on top of the cliff.
Looking down on Parangtritis beach, we began reliving every moment of the climb, high on a shared sense of achievement. On the way back to Ibu Maryati's stall for iced tea, walking carefully through chili plantations and between padi fields, it was not long before we were planning next week's climb. (Chris Brummitt)