Sunday, 12 August 2007

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The north face of the Piz Cengalo (3370m) is supposedly the largest in the central alps at 1100m, we’d come to climb the classic Gaiser-Lehman route on the NW pillar, which was climbed exactly the same day in 1937 as Cassin and partners were setting out on their epic 1st ascent of the NE face of the Piz Badile. The route takes some initially broken ground before a fine series of clean slabs sweep for about 600m to the broken summit ridge. Although the climbing is not as hard as on the Cassin, the Cengalo definitely feels more committing, remote and is a more intimidating objective. The route finding is far more complex and vague, there are no amenable bolted belays, not a great deal of fixed gear, you have to carry big boots, crampons and an axe for the heavily crevassed approach and it’s necessary to continue up over the summit and down to Italy on the other side. This means you don’t get the crowds that flock to its illustrious neighbour. Whilst we were climbing we counted 15 people strung out over the Cassin whilst there was no one else on any other of the routes on the face and only us on the Cengalo. It looked a bit riduclous with a 3 hour queue at the crux and acres of empty rock either side. As a comparison, when Konnie and I climbed the Cassin in early July 2005 we were the only people on the whole face, I reckon if you’re keen on doing it then go early season and avoid weekends like the plague.



Another early start saw us trudging down under very bright moonlight to the moraine and then up the well-frozen Cengalo glacier, a recce the previous night had shown the best line to be up under the Badile, followed by a traverse and then a descent to the start of the route, avoiding the heavily crevassed central section of the glacier. Even so, there were still a few sizeable jumps over big holes and a precarious move over the rimaye to the start of the rock. The first few hundred metres were fairly easy and we moved together, initially too far to the right, before snaking back left to the start of the difficulties. From here the route just flowed up the wonderfully clean granite of the slabby crest, taking corners, cracks flakes, frictiony bits, never too hard but often enjoyably run-out. Soon we emerged into the sun and all too quickly we reached the shattered rocks of the final ridge that we followed for a couple of hundred metres to the top. Sitting on the summit in the midday sun, I reflected on the fact that it was one of those days where everything seems to go right and the ingredients of partner, fitness, weather and line all gel perfectly and you smoke the route. The views were pretty awesome as well, on one side the vast sweep of the Badile's slabs with the Oberland and the Mischabel chains behind and the on the other the Piz Bernina, the most easterly of the alpine 4000ers.




The plan from here was to amble down into Italy, spend two nights at the Gianetti hut in the upper Val Porcellizzo to climb a couple more routes before heading back over to the car in Switzerland. When I arrived at the rifugio I bumped into Luca Maspes who I’d climbed with on the BMC international meet in early March. He was helping out in the huts above his home in the Val di Mello in order to maximise his time putting up new routes on the surrounding cliffs. The two freebie beers on arrival were gratefully received. With the climb in the bag so surprisingly quickly a pleasant afternoon of sunbathing and sleeping followed before a dinner which was very tasty if a bit on the small side.



The next days route was the Spigolo Vinci (TD/TD+) - not named after Leonardo, on the Punta Angela, a subsidiary summit on the Cengalo’s south side. I can’t praise this route enough and looking back it now I think its certainly the best climbing I’ve done in the alps and the last five pitches the best in a row I’ve done anywhere. We inititally tried the integral of the ridge but the rock on the first tower was very lichenous, dirty and gritty so we abed off after a couple of pitches and walked up to the normal start. Its quality also ensures its popularity and it was by far the busiest route we climbed with about 10 people ahead on the ridge. However, our faff meant we were way behind the rest and we decided to move slowly up the initial easy section to avoid waiting. The first hard pitch is the crux, a layback crack up the slabby ridge crest, given Fr6a in the Italian guidebook and VII in the AC one, but certainly not feeling that hard at the time. After this followed airy traverses on chicken heads, steep bridging corners and more laybacks, all on the world’s best rock, in warm sun with cracking views. At one point I was enjoying myself so much I decided to throw my camera off the ridge, so all the photos here are courtesy of Konrad. Unfortuately we caught up with some very slow Italians (the first on the route in the morning) on the penultimate hard pitch, a slippery layback. Their leader had more gear strapped to him than Rob Reglinski would take on a big wall (I’m not actually joking here) and he placed around 15 cams in the 12 or so hard metres of the pitch (we clipped the two pegs and placed a wire). His two seconds then proceeded to haul themselves up on the cams, making no attempt to climb, even on the easy (VS max) top section. Now my ethics aren’t as strong as some and on longer alpine routes I have no qualms in the occasional bit of French free or maybe hooking a wire when seconding in winter. However this did take the piss a bit and Konnie and I suppressed giggles whilst watching them, but on a more serious note you wonder whether they should’ve been there to begin with and what would’ve happened if things turned nasty…



After an interminable wait for two pitched we skipped past them on the last and then slightly rudely barged in front for the abseils. This was fine until on the third one the rope would not pull at all. This coincided with a particularly uncomfortable hanging stance and we waited, and waited and waited. Eventually one of them appeared and communicated to his friends the problem and they helped us free the rope. It then transpired that the rope wasn't jammed at all, but the maillon that we had threaded it through was too small and was creating too much friction to pull the rope through. Despite our pushing in front, they couldn’t have been more friendly and patient and I was thankful they were a team of Italians not French. We finished with no further mishaps and I quickly ran around to look for my camera on the other side of the ridge to try and get the memory card. No luck unfortunately and the rest of the evening passed in haze of red wine and freebie liqueur.



The last route of the trip was the airy 400m Spigolo Mauri (V+) – the south ridge of the Punta Torelli (3137m), the sun/shade line in the photo. As we geared up we saw a mountain goat begin to climb some slabs opposite, at first they were easy angled but got progressively steeper. He kept on moving carefully up ground which most climbers would've found tricky until he reached the ridge crest! The first 120m of our route were fairly straightforward slabs so we soloed up to the foot of the two crux pitches. The first was airy and delicate the second a little thrutchy with sinker jams. After this, the rest was fairly straightforward and we topped after two and three quarter hours with plenty of time to get back over the two cols and down to Bondo. The walk back isn’t a great deal of fun, 4 hours of scree hell in the hot sun, I’m undecided whether abbing the North ridge of the Badile is less faff and easier than walking round the back. Anyway, Konnie bravely offered to walk the 45mins or so from the Sasc Fura hut to where our bivvy kit was stashed. I have to say I felt about all of about 10 seconds of guilt as I tucked into my rosti and beer while waiting for him but that soon passed…




When we got to valley the forecast everywhere in the Alps was pretty dire for the rest of the week so we decided to pack it in and head home a bit early. The next morning we drove to Cham, which we’d managed to avoid till now to meet up with Duncan and pick up some stuff for Chad. The weather was truly dire, non-stop heavy rain – our first for three weeks, and low cloud. Still in 12 hours we managed to tick off most of the fleshpots: Poco Loco, Beluga, English bars etc. Duncan cut his trip short and drove back with Konnie and I As all French cars have their home department on the numberplate, we played excellent game of trying to spot every one and by the end we’d managed to tick off about 70 of 95. There was particular excitement when we got 2A – Corsica, but unfortunately the big ticks of 64 – Pyrenees Atlantique and 29 – Finisterre (2 unconfirmed sightings) eluded us. Before we got on the ferry we made a detour via Ypres, visiting the Tyne Cot cemetery and then the Last Post, which is sounded at 8pm every evening at the Menim Gate. Tyne Cot is a very moving sight, it’s the largest war cemetery with 12,000 graves – many unknown, and a further 30,000 names on tablets of those who have never been found.

All in all an excellent trip, we managed 15 routes of over 10 pitches, 10 of which were high-mountain ones in three and a half weeks. I'd also drove about 2500 miles at an average speed of 41 mph and fuel consumption of 44.6 mpg (I love the computer in my new car). By the end I was exhausted and pretty climbed out, definitely in need of a break. I also found out some fairly sobering news when I returned home; 3 climbers had been killed by serac fall on the normal route on the Barre des Ecrins. We'd descended under these same seracs twice in the last two weeks and at the time they looked fairly stable, but... This sort of news does throw you a bit, especially as even the most solid looking ice cliff can collapse with no warning. You can minimise risk and climb as safely as possible but if you're unlucky enough to be under them when it occurs there's nothing you can do. Terribly sad news and condolences to all their families and friends. Doubt I’ll get much climbing done in the next couple of weeks as I’ve got lots of work to do and the weather looks complete pants. Still, the joys (???) of Edinburgh in the festival...



All Photographs courtesy of K.Rawlik

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