There are things you need to know and places you need to be aware of, which really can’t wait any longer!
I’ll start the story last January in El Chalten; ramshackle town nestled beneath the Southern Patagonian icecap, watching weather forecasts. There have been some serious advances with weather forecasting over recent years meaning a lot of time spent staring at computer screens! First it takes some familiarization with the forecasts to know how a wind speed on paper may translate to what you experience in the mountains. It’s easy to look at a 25 Knott speed and believe that you have felt and indeed dealt with far worse in Scotland on a regular basis. However, a 25 Knott wind forecast actually translated to potentially being picked up and flung to the ground as Dave discovered on one of many Torre forays (a better stance and slightly larger stature may prevent this). The thing, which really turned out to be the most important on the forecasts, was the pressure, which would generally determine the quality and reliability of any “weather windows.”
Time after time we would watch a two-day section of good weather approaching, only for it to be sucked in to 10 hours of mediocre conditions. A walk in the Torre glacier, base camp for attacks on any of the Torre spires as well as a whole host of other world class alpine climbing, involves 6-9 hours all terrain walking. This means the best tactics to get anything done are to carry a large stash of gear up to basecamp and leave it there, ready to retrieve it and pounce as soon as good weather finally appears. Six times we walked in to this camp and twice I walked in to Piedra Negra on the other side of the range. Only one of the Torre trips really produced any major climbing success.
Camping at the Huber brothers camp on the rock Island at the base of the glacier, Torre spires on one side and Fitzroy’s numerous satellite summits on the other really was an incredible place to be. We had been in Patagonia for almost a month, without getting to the top of anything, so looking out of the tent one morning and seeing De L’S, the smallest of Fitzroy’s satellites standing clear was enough to send us running. It stayed clear long enough to allow us to find the correct approach couloir, but that was it. Reaching the col at the start of the Austrian route proper we came head on with a strong icy wind and pelting snow. This was definitely not going to be a rock climb as the guide indicated! The first short wall I came to provided some involved and very fun Scottish tech 7 climbing, using a series of thin cracks and crossing a small roof. Reaching the top of this and seeing the four long steep pitches behind, would have been enough to send anyone not versed in Scottish winter climbing running back with there axe between their legs, but thankfully that wasn’t us. Several interesting chimney and crack pitches followed, with no possible opportunity to remove ones gloves. The crux came with a French 6a crack pitch in full on blizzard conditions to reach the small summit.
Next we practiced our abseiling in Patagonian winds technique! The first abseil wouldn’t pull and I ascended back up our worryingly thin 8mm rope in order to free it. Thankfully we reached the approach couloir by dusk and were curled up in our tent by 1am, content in the knowledge that we had managed our first Patagonian adventure.
The next day we woke to gorgeous sunshine and calm conditions. There was no way we could head straight out again, at least not for anything major. We shared our camp with some American friends, Scott Beckett and Troutman (Coleman Blakely), who were in an equally worn down state of existence. Scott was, however, very well prepared with an unlimited satellite phone and a laptop, meaning he could download weather forecasts. By 1pm the forecast had arrived and I sat with Scott searching for opportunity in the coming days. We had around 4 days food, but something terrible had happened. Any remaining good weather had been swallowed up by the Patagonian weather demons! Gutted! It was good to finally get something done, but in this week of camping here on the glacier we hoped for more. I stared at the screen feeling a mixture of disappointment and relief that we could rest. Seeing that the snows weren’t due to start until 10am the following morning I suggested the only option was to climb something over night, not really expecting anyone to take me seriously. I get things done in the mountains because I’m keen. Repeated positive adventures and experiences have conditioned me to push for opportunity where others see none and when I my self sometimes feel like I can’t really be bothered. Many times these ideas are refused, quashed or laughed off, but other times I find people just crazy enough to put them in to action. A one-night window would require a smaller climb to allow success, something we could do quickly. I’m not sure who mentioned it first, but Exocet on Cerro Standhart was an obvious option and a really classic line leading to an otherworldly summit topped by rhyme ice mushrooms.
All four of us were tired and Dave quickly made the decision that he “categorically did not want to climb Cerro Standhart tonight”. The seed had been planted, however, and pretty soon our remaining team of three-combined psyche to ignore our aching bodies and prepare gear for our nighttime assault. At 7pm Jason Kruk and Hayden Kennedy stopped by our camp and were able to join in with a disco dancing send off to Daft Punk’s Up all Night to get Lucky. This was surreal and fun, the only downside been that my legs ached even more as we started up the glacier.
We powered up to the col and the start of our route about 1200m above in just 2 hours, with fantastic views of a bright orange Fitzroy behind. At the col views of the white wilderness of the ice cap beyond were accompanied by a Baltic wind. I sorted the ropes and a belay, while Scott prepared to lead the first pitches. Troutman, on the other hand, saw this as the perfect opportunity to roll a cigarette! Quite impressive I have to admit, he then hunkered down and attempted to light it. Without doubt the most committed mountain smoker I’ve ever climbed with and apparently I was lucky nothing more potent was available.
Scott fired out the first pitch with ease as it went dark and I zipped my coat up wondering what on earth we were thinking! Far below I could see Dave’s head torch flickering: probably having a pee and brushing his teeth, before curling up in his nice warm sleeping bag. Scott climbed the 2nd trickier 60m pitch placing a sum total of 2 pieces of gear: one for each tension traverse, very impressive stuff. We were lucky to have Scott along for these pitches, because, not only was he a very talented rock climber, having completed the Yosemite double, climbing El Capitan and Washington Column (over 1400m of steep granite climbing) in under 24 hours, but this was actually his 3rd attempt at Excocet and he really knew these pitches. Following as two seconds required some fancy rope work and I even had to untie from my rope while attached to Troutman, in the hope that it would reach me again!
At the base of the steep wall above we stopped to brew up. Troutman exclaimed that he had my “Johnnys”, to which I replied I didn’t think we’d reached that level of required comfort yet. Next the jet boil stove decided not to work, leaving us contemplating the prospect of a climb with no liquid and no dinner, or more likely retreat! Thankfully a prayer like circular motion and some skillful engineering allowed Scott to save the night and we continued.
Before too long we reached the base of the huge chimney recess and the reigns were handed over to me. I made my way back in to the depths of the icy chimney, to find a thin vertical strip of ice leading upwards. It felt great to be back on the sharp end, until I realized the walls were closing in on me, like some icy trap from an Indiana Jones film. Soon the vertical walls covered in a veneer of ice were so tight that I had to turn my shoulders side on, slithering up, while somehow squeezing my other hand through to retrieve and place my other axe. A little awkward to say the least.
Next I left my very trusting partners hanging in hell, while I climbed 60m of vertical water ice directly above their heads. I was as gentle as possible, but as with any water ice there was only so much I could do to stop icy rocks raining down on them, with nowhere to hide in the narrow confines of the chimney. All they had for protection was one very small rucksack, which they cowered behind. I dragged myself on to a nice ledge at the top of the pitch, happy in the knowledge, I had led my steep ice for the day. Soon after starting climbing, however, both Trout and Scott came tight on the rope. A stream of shouting and groaning followed, before they eventually dragged themselves, bloody faced, on to the ledge. I took one look at them and knew what I had to do! I set off with conviction up the smooth vertical ice wall above, before the flash pump moved in. Undoubtedly the three steepest ice pitches I’ve ever lead in a row, given WI5, 5+, 5+.
Scott took over from here taking on the final steep water ice as the chimney opened out with huge slabs flowing with a thick veil of icy rhyme on either side. This is where Trout and I hung out from two ice screws, while Scott disappeared out of sight, beyond the top of the chimney. We were really close now. This one more rope length and we should be on the summit ice field. Our minds and bodies were tired, but soon we’d be on the way back to safety. We could see clouds building in the distance and were well aware that our few hours of grace were about to come to an end. I donned my goggles as the winds picked up and remember feeling a peaceful calm at this stance. Troutman lit another rolly. Our little water was long since gone, but the tobacco smoke smelt good in this situation. I pondered for a moment before removing my glove and taking the ugly slug. I drew in the smoke and didn’t regret it. It felt warm and comforting, placing me somewhere else entirely.
What felt like an eternity later we started moving and as soon as I reached the col I could see why. The far side dropped back away to the ice cap and the only way to progress was an overhanging wall of rhyme ice, with no protection to start! It looked so unlikely and it wasn’t until you placed your axes and committed that you realized what was possible. The placements were solid and on a top rope it was great fun. The pitch landed us in an otherworldly dimension, a floating white world akin to an ice palace suspended on a cloud. We floated past the first ice tower on the way to the highest mushroom. Fitzroy stood proud away to our left a long drop to the Torre glacier between. To our right the ground fell away to a world of pure white scattered with a few barely touched summits. We made a belay beneath the summit mushroom and gazed along the chain of our spires, clouds swirling around. Cerro Torre looked only a stones throw away and Torre Egger was even closer. Troutman lead us home to the summit of the mushroom, an ever-changing sculpture of wind formed ice. We took it in turns to tag the summit amidst building winds and hastened retreat.
Passing the first chimney stance I realized just how awful it must have been for Scott and Trout. Clipping in and pulling the ropes was actually quite a logistical nightmare with the three of us. Scott’s harness had been noticeably causing him pain for some time, but this was the final straw. He groaned and winced, complaining that his balls had disappeared inside himself! I wedged myself in the chimney below and forced my knee up under his bum, in an attempt to release some pressure.
As we emerged from the base of the chimney a blizzard was taking hold and visibility was low. I began to doze at stances, waiting my turn to slide down the rope. I shared my final sugary gels, as Scott did a great job of showing the way. Unfortunately using a different rope set up meant a couple of long waits to find new abseil points, right when the end was in sight. A roped leap over the large bergschrund and some white wading led us back to our cozy tents.
Thanks to Scott, Troutman and Dave for an awesome couple of days.
Stay tuned for the things you need to hear about even more in Northern Patagonia.
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