BridgeClimb Sydney
Playing tourist in the city you reside could be fun and rewarding. For years we crossed the iconic through arch of Harbour Bridge, held together by a fabled 6-million rivets, to shuttle between home and office. But we procrastinated the thrilling guided ascent to the top that "BridgeClimb Sydney" proffers until my spouse, who knew this was the last of my 2025 bucket list, booked "Summit Climb" for my son and me. Afraid of heights, he opted to check and cheer us from the sound ground around the south-east pylon.
Thus we set ourselves up for 11-December 5.05 pm climb. Filling up a health declaration form was a prerequisite that we completed a couple of days earlier. For the next two days, our consternation snowballed and prayers intensified as a disappointing forecast of 92% rains refused to budge, compelling us to contemplate rescheduling! It was certainly a serendipitous twist when the clouds decided to pour down hours after our climb.
Arrival at BridgeClimb Facility: On the marked afternoon, we crossed the Bridge as usual by train from Milson's Point in the North and hopped off at Wynard (CBD) in the South. Ideally, we should've taken the magenta dotted path instead of the blue. But a blip in decision making and over reliance on my impatient teenager companion led us to a lengthy convoluted walk from our familiar Wynard Station through Observatory Hill across the Argyle Street to BridgeClimb Sydney by Cumberland St in the heart of the happening heritage site of The Rocks. The walk took us long enough to quicken my pulse - what if we miss the bus! Argyle and Cumberland cross each other at different levels, which wasn't evident on Google Maps. Cussing the conundrum of the lost Cumberland Street, my quick-witted teenager companion finally saved the day by following the BridgeClimb signage boards.
Heaving a sigh of relief, we reported 15 mins before our climb as advised and our tickets were handed out once we flashed our photo IDs.
Preparation and practice: We waited upstairs for a few minutes admiring a diorama of the Bridge and inspecting the foyer below. At 5.10, our group of 14 was formed - a group that'd literally stick together for next 3 hours like peas in a pod. We were then run through a couple of videos that topped up our basic knowledge - the north that we mark by Milson's Point Station sits on Cammeraygal Land while the Wynard Station in the south embraces Gadigal Land.
Once the videos ended, we circled round an amicable instructor, who helped us know each other while distributing the bespoke BridgeClimb suit. The fabric of the suit was remarkably breathable and the aboriginal art on the sleeves appeared to be a subtle nod of reverence to The Elders past, present, and emerging on whose land the Bridge sits. As we hopped into our suits and deposited our belongings in lockers, our guide of the evening, a statuesque middle-aged Steve, ensured everything on us was tied up, especially spects (and even long hair, pun intended, with a thin rubber band they provided). He then directed us to our harnesses, attached rainbags, caps, radios, and headphones to us with several yellow clips and clasps. He couldn't underscore more the need to keep nothing loose or dangling, elucidating emphatically the consequences. He informed that this unfloutable condition was set by Sydney Transport that runs trains, and buses over the Bridge. It was their duty, and hence expectation from BridgeClimb, to take utmost care nothing flies off the climbers causing disruption of high-speed traffic beneath.
With accessories tethered to us, we practised climbing up and down 4 ladders that mimicked the ones on the Bridge to offer verisimilitude of the supposedly toughest part of the activity. Finally, we were led through giant grey doors to a vestibule, where we were to finalise a linear arrangement that'd bind 14 of us for two hours on the Bridge. I volunteered to be the first one followed by my son. A family of 3 from England were next. Another family of 5 from Israel, and two other individuals brought up the tail end of the chain. Steve swiftly fastened the hooking device of our harnesses to a strong torque wire that served as guide-rail all along the climb.
The saga starts - stroll to pylon: The initial stroll along the approach way beneath the Deck to the south-eastern pylon was a cakewalk. Steve regaled us with tidbits of the Great Depression that Australia sailed through due to the jobs that the construction of the Bridge generated. The flying buttresses of century-old brownstone buildings of The Rocks transported us back in time when the First Fleet arrived at the Circuar Quay (it was more circular then without the Opera House stealing a bit of the curve), abandoning Botany Bay that lacked fresh water source. A quiet, contemporary Park Hyatt coiled up close by the old lively The Rocks and metres across the Opera House. By the time Steve's narrations ended, we had dreamily reached our first milestone - the south-eastern pylon on the south.
Climb up to the underneath of the Deck: From the south-eastern pylon, 55 steps led us up through the entrails of the Bridge to the underneath of the Deck. The first sight of dark deep green waters of Parramatta River, slowed in the fragmented mouth at Sydney Harbour before meeting the sea in far horizon, triggered tremors through our spine - even of those that were made of steel. The trepidation was momentary compared to the momentous feat of the entire climb experience. Traffic was still pounding over our heads on M1 as we soaked in the views of Opera House from the narrow lanes flanking the underside of the Deck.
The four ladders: From here commenced the treacherous climb of four ladders, 5-metre each (24 steps in each ladder) that vertically shoved us to the starting step on the eastern arm of the Outer Arch. The traffic on the Bridge was suddenly speeding right beneath us and the the colossal steel frame unfurled its true colours of pure structural engineering before our eyes - upper/ outer arch, inner/ lower arch, vertical and diagonal trusses, and the rivets. Pardon my ignorance, even at this point, I wasn’t aware of the pivotal and most crucial parts that hold the structure together and the Bridge too doesn’t reveal it to the climbers. I’ll come to that secret ingredient of the Bridge making recipe next.
The secret ingredient invisible from the Bridge - Steve carefully and appreciatively reminded us not to miss the load-bearing verticals/ King Posts, two at each of north and south ends of the Bridge, that connect the upper/ outer and lower/ inner arches/ chords. He pointed to the base of the south east King Post, not visible, to advocate the engineering marvel - a gigantic pin that hinges the inner arch to load-bearing abutments on granite foundations. There are four of these - two each side on either end of the Bridge. They are not only pivotal in load bearing but also plays pivotal role in providing the necessary breathing room for the Bridge, allowing 18 to 20 cm expansion or contraction depending on the max and min temperatures of a day. We have photographed the Bridge innumerable times from Bradfield Park in the north and Dawe's Point in the south, but never payed heed to the four kingpins that were quietly holding a herculean 20,000 tons apiece. Steve's statement strummed my engineering chords, and back on ground I ferreted my digital album for a glimpse of the heroic pins, now shining in a new limelight in my eyes.
One by one we posed and climbed up a few steps to make room for others - not too far from the group but not so close at to photobomb them.
The Ascent along eastern outer arch from south end of the Bridge: Once all of us had posed for Steve, he led us up through 450 steps to the top of the Bridge, stopping mid-way for mandatory snaps and explanation of what unfolded before our eyes. The treads of the broad steps were comfortable with plenty of room on both sides of walkway - however scary it looks from the ground, even those intolerant of heights wouldn't feel any butterfly fluttering in their tummy.
The mid-way stopover to relish the CBD in the south and premium points in the east:
The edifices in the south weren't unfamiliar, but they definitely walloped us as they loomed like a continuous wall of dramatic facades. My son joyousuly pointed to his workplace (more like a glassy blue one-eyed Mike from Monsters Inc's) and I spotted mine! M1 impaled the horizon, separating the swanky AMP (transformed), towering Salesforce, shimmering EY around Circular Quay from The Crown and Internationl Towers around Barangaroo like a chasm through the CBD. Our expert eyes groped the silhouettes fishing out The Eye of Sydney, Sheraton Hotel, eBuy Tower - the ones that once commanded the CBD skyline but are now dwarfed by time that has raised glitzy glamorous skyscrapers in a spree of lending international shade, garnering recognition from across the world.
Opera House gleamed in its own glory like a tiara on the Circuar Quay, seizing every bit of attention on the east. Steve lifted our gaze from the beauty of the sails to Rose Bay, Vaucluse, Watsons Bay that sprawled along the southern bank of Sydney Harbour on the eastern side of the Bridge. Prime Minister's residence at Kirribilli, Cremorne Point, Taronga Zoo/ Bradleys Head laced lazily the northern edge of Sydney Harbour from north-eastern pylon to as far as North Head. We've been to all these premium points with friends, family, and colleagues - those nostalgic memories rushed in like waves of time.
I kept pointing animatedly and explaining my son eagerly, 'There at that point I captured some of my yoga poses, we watched New Year fireworks from that viewpoint, I recorded my friend's birthday note from that end to keep the iconic sails as backdrop.'
He nodded with an unruffled hmmm; can't complain - tied up with his HSC grinding, he wasn't party to some of those memories.
Steve's stream of insightful anecdotes on Fort Denison boomed in our headphones. It was re-purposed over time - criminals were left there without food for a couple days or weeks in the initial days of colonial settlements, later the fort walls were erected to protect the Harbour during World War, and more recently to host weddings. It now though is a "white elephant" lacking any meaningful purpose. His continuous commentary filled us in with stories of Japanese submarine attacks in the Sydney Harbour that were partially thwarted at the cost of 21 Allied soldiers.
He instantly brought us out of the gory history pointing to Point Piper - the most expensive and exotic sliver in real estate world offering pricey views of Sydney's heart and soul - Sydney Opera House with Harbour Bridge arching at the neck of Sydney Harbour. It piqued my curiosity and back at home my eyes almost popped as I read of Uig Lodge, its owner, and the staggering price of 130 million that he got it for. (No, he doesn't own just that, there's more but I'll leave the intrigue here for my reader to find out more, lest I digress.)
Birthday celebration: A few steps before a platform that connects the eastern and western upper arches, we stopped for a grand group photos. The broad steps have given way to a mesh paving. As the wind skirled past our faces, we merrily sang birthday song for two of us - one was me of course!
The zenith: At the zenith, Blinky Bill, aircraft warning light, welcomed us along with two fluttering flags - aboriginal flag and national flag - that are changed every two to three months. My son and I improvised a summit-like pose to commemorate this invaluable moment - climactic culmination of an exhilarating experience; Steve froze it in his lenses for us. We were standing on a piece of history - March of 1930, when Northern and Southern halves that were being constructed simultaneously, finally met.
The Descent along western outer arch towards south end: Once all 14 of us were done basking in the glory of touching the topmost tip of the beloved Bridge, we commenced our descent along the western arm of the Outer Arch. An equal number of steps, 450 to be precise, brought us down to the last step on the outer arch; Steve seldom stopped filling us with stories - stories of fatality and survival the construction of the Bridge witnessed, stories, about fabrication of bridge parts, stories behind the grey paint on the metal arch which would be a century old by 2032. Interestingly, the initial grey choice was to use grey paint that was excess after painting war ships. The Bridge is currently getting freshly coated with silvery grey lead paint in preparation for its Centennial Birthday. Steve made sure we could tell apart the lighter new coat from the darker flaking old one revealing the rusty iron beneath at places.
Luna Park was glistening on the north bank of Parramatta River by north-western pylon - time hasn't moved since 1930s within its premises, though it hosts some fun modern rides. It was used as a construction site before the Park was established.
If it wasn't for Steve, we couldn't have known the fiasco that Francis De Groot created before Jack Lang cut the ribbon with the historic golden scissors for inauguration of the south end of the Bridge. Alderman Hubert Leslie Primrose inaugurated the northern end of the Bridge. While we bid goodbye to the sprawling west peppered with spiking skylines of Rhodes, Parramatta, and Olympic Park, the sun sparked its feeble embers over the distant Blue Mountains.
Another four ladders: The Bridge Climb track is pretty symmetrical. Quite as expected, a set of four 5-metre ladders (exactly 24 steps per ladder) plummeted us back to the underneath of the Deck. Parts of walk underneath the Deck was tricky and we had to "shimmy and squeeze" gingerly. Additional BridgeClimb staffs around the ladders supervised us. A fleeting thought about their office and I realised even the nearest facility is at least 20 minutes away - down the ladders to the underneath of the Deck, down to approach way at the pylon, and a stroll to the building.
Climb down to return approach way: Both the sides are almost mirror images - no prize in guessing that a 55-step descent lead us to the return approach way starting from the south-western pylon. The granite slabs that clad the four concrete pylons have their own share of story. Sourced from Moruya, they were cut and cladded by Scottish and Italian stonemasons only to enhance the appearance of the pylons that play no role in sharing the load on the Bridge.
Return stroll to the BridgeClimb Facility: On our stroll back from the pylon to the BridgeClimb Facility, Steve highlighted the vestigial footprints of the houses that the First Fleet built and that have been intentionally left behind beneath as a stark reminder of the unforgiving early days. Like an experienced guide, he didn't let us miss appreciating and admiring the surgical precision with which the diagonal strusses were arrayed in the days that used simple tools of measurement - no algorithm or computer to assist the unsung engineers and builders of Dorman Long and Co Ltd, led by John Bradfield.
'Did you know how many people climbed the Bridge?' Steve chortled.
He could tell none of us had a clue, so he added funnily, '5 million', pointing to us 'and 14'. What an amusing way to conclude!
At the mouth of the vestibule, we were unhooked from the guiding wire and liberated methodically from our harnesses, headphones, and other attachments. Caps were for us to keep! Taking our suits off, we chucked them through a red pipe-mouthed chute, mostly for a wash. Collecting our belongings from locker and links for downloading the photos that Steve clicked, we burst out mirthfully to meet somebody we completely lost thought of in the whirlwind of our activities - my spouse!
Yes, he was there - as steadfast as a rock, waiting to join our celebration of achievement and joy. He did track a group, waved them assuming they were us, and they hailed back too cheerfully; but to his despair and our laughter, it transpired to be another group. He couldn't be blamed for mistaking - with so many groups signed up for the climb at a given time and the size that climbers appear to be from beneath, it's impossible to tell apart. We appreciated, though, his thoughts and hardly stopped iterating the entire experience again and again on our return journey by train across the very Bridge we just assaulted. By the time we reached home, he seemed to be convinced for his own climb journey sometime later this the year! Why, I too can give him company with 40% discount voucher sitting in my mailbox - a gesture of thanks from BridgeClimb Sydney that's valid for a year! Fingers crossed.
Dona, Sydney, Dec '25
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Many thanks!!!