Story Bridge Adventure Climb-Brisbane

One of only three bridge climbs in the world the Story Bridge Adventure Climb was a great way to see more of Brisbane and the surrounding suburbs without having to leave the city centre. A short walk along the waterfront, from our hostel on Edward St through the city botanical gardens and over to Kangaroo point and we were there. Reputedly at 80 meters above the Brisbane River below, the highest point would surely be high enough to see not only the Glasshouse Mountains in the distance but also maybe even the sea.
We turned up early at the Adventure Climb Centre which is directly under the bridge, not far from the famous Story Bridge Hotel, maybe not dressed to impress but certainly sporting some killer attire. Anne looked like a lovely summer afternoon in the short floral dress she held onto rigidly, arms plastered by her side like a Roman Sentinel, or else be at the mercy of a gust of wind blowing it around her ears. Phil sported an urban hip-hop look, wearing denim shorts that made him look not so much 50 cent as his country cousin 50 cent a pound. I still had on a rather pink pair of pink flip flops (I can’t call them thongs, people would get confused) and a pair of tan coloured git-pants and a collarless white shirt, making me look like I’d just stepped out of a salon, then tripped.



The manager Paul Lewin came down to say hello and was a little surprised and maybe even disappointed that we weren’t in our bin bags. “If only you knew how much thigh was on display until he got those shorts”, explained Anne, “you wouldn’t be surprised that someone eventually had to clothe him”. He explained to us that we would have to have a run through of the safety precautions first, but that before dusk was one of the best times of day for climbing the bridge

With her gust of wind problem for now abated Anne moved around freely talking to people, while Phil just chilled yo, and hung out. I got used to the strange looks I was getting for wearing pink footwear. Soon enough Kirsty, our guide up to the top was with us, introduced herself, was pleased to meet us, then breathalysed us. After this we were taken upstairs to the changing room and given our climbing suits. All-in-one zip-up affairs, they are made for speed and efficiency and once donned we were then lead to another room, with simulator stairs and harnesses.

Once strapped in and clipped on we were shown how to use the safety harness with the wire clasp securing us to the stanchion of the stairway that ran with us as we walked. Feeling ready for action, we were then introduced to the bone transducer CB Radio headset which was clipped to our harnesses and wrapped around our heads. A head torch each was given us which we hung round our necks. The ration packs and machine gun we were expecting didn’t come, but a handkerchief was handed out, which we dutifully tied to our wrists and tucked up our sleeves.

The bone transducer headset works by vibrating sound through the skull and into the brain. The ears are not covered so you can still hear, and talk easily. The only snag with the technology is that if you happen have a hip-hopping friend behind you as you ascend the many steps to the bridge, laughing so hard at you in your snug-fitting speed suit that to keep the amusement going he keeps turning up the volume on the CB radio so that when your guide stops to tell you a fact her voice bores so deep into your brain that for a second you’re ready to do whatever she commands.

If this keeps happening, repeatedly, sneakily, and without your noticing, you can end up feeling lobotomised and a little brainwashed by it all. “Please watch your head”, I intone blankly to no one in particular. “The Story Bridge was built in 1935, by … as part of…” I say without quite knowing why.

Eventually I regain control of my mind, and we continue up the flights of stairs below the bridge, and out onto the walkway up the Story Bridge itself. At mid afternoon the traffic below is building up, the evening is calm and warm, with little wind, and Kirsty keeps us informed, and in control of my brain, as we ascend.

The view was spectacular, with the winding river lights illuminating South Bank with the skyscrapers of the CBD speckled silhouettes against the gradually pinkening sky. As we got higher we could see over the other side of the river, to Newstead and beyond. The peaks of the Glasshouse Mountains appeared between two highrises to the north, while south appeared the Gold Coast hinterland, and to the west Mount Coo-tha rose gently, with Moreton Bay and its islands to the east.

Stopping for a picture at the top, we paused for a good look round, and watched the sunset as it went from pink to a deep red, then spread out and melted a deep rich ochre. A very tranquil way to enjoy Brisbane from such a height, and capture views you otherwise miss out on. The suburbs merged in the distance as the vista sprawled out to the sea, which was just visible.

The safety instructions paid dividends in the end, as we felt safe and secure despite being 35 metres above the traffic and 80 meters above the river. On the loop back around Kirsty told us of the 1.5 million rivets used during construction, that were heated up and thrown to the worker, who caught its head and hammered it home. The work that went into the construction is, as ever with these tasks, immense and impressive.

Despite working under conditions that would give any self respecting Occupational Health and Safety Board severe piles if they were to see such a thing today, there were only three deaths during the five years it took to build, and considering they worked unharnessed, on stark supports, without railings or handholds, dangling their legs over a sheer drop or running up the steel girders it is a remarkable testament to the guts and skill of the guys back then. Of the million and a half rivets put in back in 1940, only four had to be replaced a few years ago when engineers inspected the bridge.

The Bridge is over a kilometre long and 24 meters wide, includes 14 000 tonnes of steel and has at its base 41 250 cubic metres of concrete, and it moves up to 200ml each year, requiring the expansion joints that take this into consideration, as it swells and contracts with the seasons. Luckily we managed to strike it on a day when it was fairly stable and by the time it got dark and we had on our headtorches and the bridge lights shone, and the city scape shimmered and glimmered with a thousand lights, with the river meandering languidly we were happy and content to have climbed the Story Bridge.
Thanks for the climb guys.
To book an adventure climb please vivist http://www.storybridgeadventureclimb.com.au//