PART ONE -- About a year ago we moved to a leafy Sydney suburb, into a house at the bottom of a gully crowded with tall gums and rainforest ferns. A creek, which is a torrent after rain, runs between the road and the house, so walking to the front door reminds me a bit of dropping into a Blue Mountains canyon.
The house is classic seventies: exposed sandstock bricks, dark stained timber, and Stegbar wind-out windows. It’s tall and imposing: two floors straight up into the, tree tops. Along the front, five timber posts stand the full two floors high supporting broad overhanging eaves. The first post, at the front door landing, stands just far enough away from the bricks to make a wide -- a very wide -- bridging move. I thought I’d climb the 8 or 9 metres up to the roof with one foot on the bricks and the other on the post, protected with a sling wrapped around the post prusik-style. I’d just slide the sling up as I went.
As it turns out, climbing the house isn’t that easy. The sandstock bricks are trecherous, even with climbing shoes, and the painted post is slippery and splintery. I manage a few moves before slumping onto the sling, then a few more, but sitting on the sling binds it so tight it’s impossible to shift. The system is hopelessly unreliable; a top-rope would be much better.
Across the top of the vertical posts, a long horizontal beam runs the entire length of the house, and between the top of the beam and the eaves there’s a gap, about 30 centimetres high. If I could get a rope through the gap I’d be on my way. But how to get the rope up there? It’s a long way up, and there’s only a tiny gap.
Maybe I could poke one end of a rope through using a long pole? Around the back there’s a long-handled brush for cleaning cobwebs out of the eaves. It’s way too short of course. I try the pool scoop. It’s longer, but nowhere near long enough. So I lash the eave brush to the pool scoop with 10 metres of 8 mm static cord that just happens to be lying around. It’s ridiculous overkill, but my new contraption won't buckle in the middle. I climb delicately up onto the landing railing, balancing on tip toes and at full stretch, I can push the whole wobbly arrangement up to the roof.
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