Thankfully, I didn’t die climbing Mt Tibrogargan at the weekend

Until the weekend, I didn’t think I was one of those people into taking on extreme challenges. You know; the trend over the last fifteen years or so to compete in marathons, triathlons and other types of “thons” designed to push the body to the limit. Perhaps you are one, or are in training for one now? It seems every second person is in training for something like this. I mean, I love being active and setting challenges, but I’ve never had the inclination to run forty-two kilometres straight, and I would likely drown at the first leg of a triathlon (non-withstanding my now excellent breath holding ability!! To read more about this, check out this post).

But I may have unwittingly crossed over the “extreme challenge” line when, at the weekend, I decided to have a crack at Mount Tibrogargan in the Glass House Mountains. I’ve been climbing a number of the peaks around the north side of the Sunshine Coast recently, but this one proved a very different beast! Here’s what went down.

Firstly, I’d like to acknowledge the Jinibara and Kabi Kabi peoples as traditional owners of the Gubbi Gubbi lands that the Glass House mountains reside on. I pay my respect to Elders past, present and emerging.

So I mentioned earlier that I have been “climbing” a number of peaks over the last few months. I will retrospectively amend this to “walking up steepish hills”, rather than climbing. Apart from Mount Eerwah, the others I’ve done so far didn’t involve any actual climbing, and even Eerwah was not really a climb as a very steep track.

My view of the mountain as I approached.

I had a vague awareness that Mt Tibrogargan was a little different and involved a bit more actual climbing. Most of this aforementioned knowledge came from occasional local news stories on rescues, injuries and even the occasional tragic death of climbers attempting the climb. For this reason (understandably, I would have though), I had held off on trying this climb. But this particular Sunday, clearly suffering from selective memory recall, I decided to give it a go figuring it would just be a harder version of Mt Eerwah.

I jumped in the car and headed down the Bruce highway. Tibrogaran is the closest of the Glass House mountains to the road and looms up intimidatingly from the surrounding land. It’s a magnificent sight, especially flanked as it is by the other equally spectacular peaks that form the Glasshouse Mountains.

The sign at the base of the summit trail. Crap, did I remember to bring a helmet??

I parked on the far side from the ascent and started along the trail that winds around the base of the mountain. After about two kilometres I reached the sign at the base of the summit trail, which gave me pause, emphasizing that the climb is recommended for experienced climbers. I pushed on, confident that I’m fairly fit and strong but figuring I could always abandon the attempt if it proved too difficult. My concern grew a little more as I passed a couple of climbers who, mistaking me for an experienced climber, cautioned that there was an inexperienced group ahead, half of who they had just talked out of attempting the climb and hinting that I should similarly dissuade the others.

My concern grew again when I reached said group at the base of Chicken Rock. Three of the climbers had already gotten back down from the Rock. One guy among them actually said to me as he came down, “I thought I was pretty brave guy, but found out today I am not.” Needless to say, this did not do much for my flagging confidence. Another two of the climbers were still struggling down from the Rock, clearly finding it quite difficult. With words of guidance and encouragement I waited while they got down safely, and then started the climb myself, not sure what I would find above.

There is little doubt where the name Chicken Rock comes from. Climbing up to it was fairly easy (climbing down a little harder!), but it is from there that you get a proper view of the climb ahead. For a seasoned climber I imagine it’s pretty comfortable, but looked pretty intimidating for someone who hasn’t done a climb like this before. To my inexperienced eyes, the stretch directly above Chicken Rock looked like a not quite vertical rock face which was relatively flat and lacking in overly obvious foot and hand holds. We’re certainly not talking Cliffhanger, but nor was it this hill from The Little Train That Could.

Despite the size of my concern, which by this stage resembled the mountain itself, I made a hesitant start. I got up about ten metres before I was having serious misgivings. I was high enough to do some serious damage to myself if I slipped, but also low enough to feel very embarrassed of the prospect of backing out, what with a couple of climbers waiting below. Chicken Rock would have claimed another scalp then and there if not for these climbers who chose that moment to start their own climb and so make it difficult for me to immediately back down. I shifted to one side and found a spot to perch while they passed, all the while questioning the wisdom of continuing. But seeing them make their way up helped instill a level of confidence (or perhaps kicked my pride in the guts hard enough to spur me on!) so I decided I’d persist a little way further and then see.

Looking up. as an “easy” section. Lots of handholds, yes. Gentle slope, no.

I managed to climb another ten metres or so to the next rest point and could tell that the other climbers were having similar misgivings. But as one of them pushed on, I again decided to follow and keep going. After another fairly difficult stretch, the climbing became much easier and I started making good progress. The day was cool which helped, and the view of the surrounding mountains and lands became increasingly beautiful the further I climbed. This stretch was much more in line with what I had vaguely expected going into the climb, sprinkled with a few more difficult stretches.

I was somewhat astounded when, nearing the top, I found a father and his two kids, the youngest of whom was probably around seven, climbing down! While my confidence had grown somewhat as the climb progressed, it took somewhat of a plunge at this site. Here I was; six foot and with pretty good reach and still feeling quite trepidatious about the climb overall, especially the prospect of coming back down (aiming to not do so via free-fall!). Yet here were a couple of young kids, one of them half my height, climbing down without much concern. I spoke with their Dad for a moment while we passed and could tell he was an experienced climber. His older boy (I’m guessing maybe ten or eleven) had been up with him multiple times before, but this was the first time for his younger daughter.

The North-west view features other Glasshouse mountains.

Shaking my head and still not convinced it was the best parenting choice I’ve seen, I pushed on and reached the top soon after. The wind was blowing and the view was amazing. I walked along the summit to the southern side of the mountain top, reaching the sheer cliff edge there and taking in the view. I sat for a while, enjoying the view and the wind and of course taking a few snaps. But I must admit I didn’t quite enjoy it or take the time to appreciate it as I have on other peaks, because I was too busy thinking about the fact that, while I had managed to get to the top, I still had to get down in one piece!

Looking South was gorgeous, though shame about the mine.

Determined not to become the latest local news headline, I started to make my way down. I approached it very carefully and deliberately, choosing to back my way down the bulk of the way. There was another shake of the head moment when I passed a guy climbing the mountain in his sandals. I’m guessing these would make the checklist of recommended rock-climbing gear!

Looking down, though the photo does not quite capture how steep the grade was here.

As feared, the final stretch just above Chicken Rock was the hardest. It is here I caught up to the man with the young kids, nearing the end of their climb. I was relieved to see they had made it and also that he had taken it nice and slow with them. But mostly I was too focused on not falling at the last hurdle myself. More so, because I didn’t want to traumatize the kids by seeing me fall and splat on the rock below! There were a couple of spots at this part where I was at full stretch and not able to find a foothold I was happy with. But I managed to ease my way down, hugging the rock and finally reaching the relative safety of Chicken Rock.

My legs were feeling pretty shaky at this stage; partly from the fatigue of the climb but mostly from the adrenalin of that final descent. I climbed down from Chicken Rock on suitably wobbly legs, and then headed back towards the car, relieved to have completed the climb.

So what is the fascination with these types of challenges? If you’re the type of person who leans towards more extreme activities, add a comment and let me know. It’s a couple of things for me:

• I find real value in being out in nature and experiencing the amazing things this planet has to offer and the mental health benefits that come with doing so.

• I also like the physical health side of things; ideally without spending too much time on a treadmill or in the gym.

• Partly it’s about and keeping busy when I’m on my own.

• There is a certain satisfaction and confidence that comes with taking on and completing difficult things.

• And then there’s the writing side of things; it’s all good and well imagining exciting scenes for my fictional characters to fight through, but I like to try and write as realistically as possible, so a little first-hand experience doesn’t go astray in doing so.

But I guess the question is, would I do this climb again? Or perhaps try nearby Mount Beerwah which is bigger and reportedly a bit harder than Tibrogargan? At this stage, I’m not sure I’m quite that dedicated to realistic writing. But we’ll see!