Round 3- The Photo Story Edition

Now that we're back in the States with a fast internet connection, we'd like to present "Round 3- The Photo Story Edition."

Hiking along the Rio Electrico to Piedra Fraille

Rio Electrico Valley. Lowest snowline yet.

Rio Electrico Bridge. Time to start hiking.

Rio Electrico

Piedra Fraille

 

Hiking from Piedra Fraille to Piedra Negra (High Camp)

 

Summer blooms

 

Straight Up.

Lowest snow yet. Not promising.

Piedra Negra - Eying the conditions on the route and watching avalanches go off all around

 Weathering clearing on Aguja Guillaumet

Tim looking for snow/ice on the route from Piedra Negra (yep, piedra negra (black rock) is aptly named).

Avalanche and an American team en route to Super Canalata on Fitz Roy

Fitz Roy creating turbulence

Attempt #1: The Brenner-Moschioni Route 

Pre-dawn start from Piedra Negra.

Made Paso Guillaumet at dawn. Ready to switch from snow to rock climbing.

First pitch of Brenner-Moschioni. Discovered that the cracks were filled with ice from the storm earlier in the week.

Turning back after a hard fought climb up the iced cracks of the Brenner-Moschioni.

Attempt #2: The Amy-Vidailhet Route 

Dawn at Paso Guillaumet, again. Best conditions yet.

Crossing the glacier onto the east side of the Fitz Roy massif to reach the Amy.

The start of the Amy couloir, leading to rock pitches, and the summit.

Our first challenge. The bergschrund (the crevasse at the top of the glacier).

Gorgeous granite walls make us eager for rock pitches above.

Fun first few snow pitches!

Tim leading up onto steep snow, turning to ice. Above he finds hard ice that pushes the limits of our experience and gear (one ice tool between us and crampons meant only for snow). Falling ice and a massive, teetering chandelier of icicles overhead finally seals the decision. We're turning around.

 

A moment for a Team North Carolina selfie on the final rap station.

Bonus Fun- Glacading!

Mountaineers may seem like a serious bunch, but what they don't tell you is that when the conditions are right, they sled down the mountain on their butts, hooting and hollering the whole way!

 

 

Note the text-book use of the ice axe for maneuvering and controlling speed.

 P.S. In case you were wondering, this is how much butter was left in the end. A half a kilo went up the mountain and about 50 g came back down.

Round 3

Close but no cigar...

Another window in the weather appeared on the forecast, and we headed up to Piedra Negra to try to be there when the weather cleared. On the hike up, our spirits were weighed down by the incessant rain, snow, and fog. We encountered snow lower on the approach then ever before, and our gear stash was buried under inches of new snow. The new snow was triggering spontaneous avalanches -- heard but unseen on account of the dense fog -- going off every few minutes all around us. Conditions did not bode well.

Within two hours of establishing camp, the storm cleared revealing the bluest skies we saw all trip. Temperatures continued to rise, and cautious optimism filled camp as the avalanches cleared unstable snow from the steep slopes. Our weather window had indeed appeared.

Attempt #1: The Brenner-Moschioni Route

Per usual, our alarm woke us at 3:30 am, and for the first time we saw stars above. We quickly reached Paso Guillaumet, our approach made easier by the new dense snow. The morning sun shown brightly on the Brenner route. At long last, we were going to rock climb in Patagonia, and a mere 13 pitches -- all well within our abilities -- stood between us and the summit. We quickly racked up, and Tim headed up a brief snow field to the start of the first pitch.

Tim reached the opening right facing flake, swung his head around to place his first piece of protection, and suddenly everything changed: the crack was plastered with thick ice. There was no place for gear. No way to climb safely. Undeterred, Tim swung around to the right to investigate a potential alternate route that might be possible. For the next hour, Tim fought his way slowly up a maze of ice and snow filled cracks. Climbing with hands jammed between rock and ice, and wearing one rock shoe and one boot -- the rock shoe was good for small foot holds on the rock face, while the boot was good for jamming in cracks -- he eventually reached the first belay. Meanwhile, a German party attempting to find creative ways up the first pitched bailed and opted for the Amy route, a snow couloir around to east. Sheila followed the pitch, retrieving Tim´s boots left part way up, and together we decided that this was absolutely not fun. And the next pitch appeared worse. We had climbed our first rock pitch in Patagonia, the exposure and rock quality were spectacular. But it was time to turn back, and we bailed.

Back at camp were were disappointed, figuring that we were shut down for our trip. An Argentinian party that was behind us on the Brenner route returned to camp shortly later and reported that, after aid climbing the first two pitches, they could not even find the third pitch behind the sheets of ice. A team from Salt Lake attempting the Comenseña-Fonrouge provided a similar report from their attempt. In contrast, several parties successfully climbed via the Amy Couloir, reporting deep and secure snow the entire way up. We had not considered this route before because of our inexperience with steep snow and ice and because were did not have the right equipment to attempt the route. However, the German team completed the route with the same equipment and felt that the climb would be well within our abilities. After fighting snow and ice for two weeks, we decided it was time to climb it.

Attempt #2: The Amy-Vidailhet Route 

At 3:30 am our alarm went off again. We emerged from our tent, again with stars above, and suspiciously warm temperatures. Much snow had melted the night before, and our climb to the pass was slowed by unstable scree fields and icy conditions. At the pass, we roped up for glacier travel, and made our way to the start of the Amy route.

Our first obstacle was the Bergshrund -- the crevasse that marks the top of the glacier. Parties from the day before reported a trivial crossing, which was good because we had never crossed one before. Unfortunately, yesterday´s snow bridge had broken, and what remained of it was rapidly falling apart with the warm temperatures. But, we thought it was still going to be possible. We buried a deadman in the snow for a belay, and went for it. It wasn´t pretty, but Tim made it safely across and rapidly climbed to the first belay. Sheila followed behind on the little intact snow left. With a drop knee and an icy hand jam (nonstandard snow climbing technique to be sure), team North Carolina had successfully crossed our first schrund, and we were on our way. Pitch two went quickly and easily. Conditions were a bit leaner than reported, but were were having fun. As we climbed, however, it was impossible to ignore that the mountain was falling apart around us. Ice and snow routinely fell from the walls above, and balls of ice occasionally came shooting down the gully as we climbed.

Pitch three started well enough. For the first 25 m, Tim found places for protection on the walls of the couloir. He clipped the rope into an intermediate belay station, and continued to climb up. This was fun.

Then, things got exciting. After the intermediate anchor, the angle steepened and the snow became harder and icy. At the same time, opportunities to place protection in the rock walls, now 5 ft apart, disappeared. As he climbed higher and higher above the intermediate anchor, his aluminum crampons (intended for glacier travel and certainly not for ice climbing) began to buckle under the strain. The fact that he was climbing with a single ice tool (typically, two are used for this terrain) also did not help matters. About 75 ft above his last protection and now facing a giant 150 ft fall down the couloir, Tim worked hard to keep it together. Falling was simply not an option. Kicking and stabbing the snow, careful step by careful step, he reached to the right, clipped the three piton anchor, and let out a giant sigh of relief. "Off Belay."

Shedding layers of clothing because of the impressive warmth, Tim evaluated the next pitch and saw nothing to prevent our way to the summit. We were one pitch away from the easy rock climbing to the summit, where we would be back squarely within our comfort zone. Admiring the walls of the couloir while belaying Shiela up, Tim noticed high above a giant chandelier of icicles hanging ominously overhead. The entire structure was the size of a small car, and each icicle a meter long. Then, the tip of one broke off and fell. With the heat of the past two days, the ice above was rapidly coming off and, if the chandelier hanging above blew off, it would not be pretty. "Sheila, can you climb back to the belay?" Such a nonstandard request could only mean trouble and, out of visual contact, Sheila ran through the possibilities as she began her retreat. Either Tim was hurt, or there was something really dangerous above. Either way, there was no time for discussion.

Once Sheila was secure again, Tim tied the ropes together, set up to rappel, and got the f*ck out of there!!

In the end, the temperatures rose far too high for us to climb safe from objective hazards. We were moving slow due to inexperience and limited equipment and, while we felt that we had those two factors in control, when combined with rising temperatures, the danger level had gotten too high. It was a trivial decision to bail. The mountains will still be there for a very long time, and we have ample time to build up our skills for a future rendezvous. On this attempt alone we had crossed our first scrhund and climbed our steepest snow pitches. We were more than satisfied by our attempt and all that we learned from it.

*     *     *

"¡Otra botella de vino, por favor!¨" We raised our glasses in a toast with Team Germany and Team Seattle. Team Germany had summitted Guillaumet the day before, and Team Seattle summitted Aguja de l´S via the Austriaca route. The wine fueled the raucous recounting of our most recent adventures and  tall tales of Austrain climbers scaling ice walls using fists for ice tools and Patagonian winds strong enough to send a rappelling climber up instead of down. Eventually, conversation turned to plans for visits to climb on each others home turf. And, of course, for our return to Patagonia...

(We will add photos to this post later once we get a better internet connection)

Gearing up for Round 3

It looks like the next weather window is upon us. The hostel (and El Chaltén in general) is buzzing with teams preparing gear and food, getting last details on routes, and getting stoked!

After many days refining our taste for Malbec, we were starting to feel a bit uncertain about climbing rock after so long. So, today, we tested out some of the local sport climbing. Tim picked out a couple routes, and was pretty disheartened after getting tired and hanging out on what he judged to be two hard 5.10s. Maybe it was the 20 knot winds? When we found out later that he climbed two 5.12s, confidence was restored. We still feel ready to crank out our climb!

It looks like our best opportunity will be Thursday if it stops raining soon. Friday also holds a lot of potential but also more uncertainty. Ultimately we will decide tomorrow with an updated weather forecast and depending on what we see once we get to Piedra Negra in the afternoon. This is looking like our last attempt of the trip -- wish us luck!!

Paso Guillaumet in the snow storm (UPDATED)

We got a few photos from our last attempt. They were taken by a couple from Seattle that shared our optimism for the weather window that never openened. You can see the great view and ideal rock climbing conditions (sarcasm):

Amazingly, Austrian Markus  Pucher climbed Cerro Torre in the same storm, by himself and without a rope.

Edited to add: We just had the good fortune if running into Markus at a local hostel. He was very generous and shared hours of videos and stories from his climb. It was truly impressive to see him looking down 800 m as he climbed steep rime ice on the Cerro Torre headwall. He also shared his attitude about alpine climbing: the summit is not that important as it is just a fleeting moment. It is the adventure of actually doing the climbing that is where all the fun is. For his whole climb, he said that he would continuly check in with himself and ask "is this ok?" If the answer was yes, he continued. In this case, he eventually found himself at the summit of Cerro Torre, alone and in a snow storm! Thanks for the stories Markus!

We are sitting tight today, and heading up again tomorrow for round 3.

Our climbing routine

We wake up at aroud 6 am in El Chaltén. Our bags are packed except for a few morning necessities. After a quick but hearty breakfast, we don our packs and head north towards the mountains.

The road out of town

Our first waypoint is the bridge over Rio Electrico, about 16 km north of El Chaltén. To get there, we walk to the north end of town, drop our bags, and raise our thumbs. We usually get a ride within 15 minutes, and reach the bridge within an hour. We've gotten rides from two men in a pick-up in their way to work, tour operators (actually operating a tour and explaining the sights and stopping for passengers to get out and take photos), and a wealthy Brazilian family on a road trip with their two kids in a Land Rover.

Our next stop is Piedra Fraile, a cute bungalow/restaurant about 8 km up the Rio Electrico valley. The hike there is almost entirely flat, gaining only 100 m. The trail takes us through what feels like ancient forest filled with gnarled beech trees, across turquoise glacial streams, along huge rock walls that would be a climbing attraction anywhere else, and finally to the meadow of Piedra Fraile. The meadow in front of the lime green main building is filled with violets and lupines. We stop in to greet the land owners -- a young couple with a 1 yr 9 month year old boy -- and sit down for tea or a snack before the climb ahead.

The beech tree groves on the way to Piedra Fraile

Leaving Piedra Fraile for Piedra Negra, everything changes. For the next 2-3 hours, we ascend 1000 m up steep vegetated trail with bright red and yellow flowering bushes, then over steep rocky scree, and onto the snow that marks the terminus of the glacier. We can spot Piedra Negra from 250 m below -- giant black boulders on the rock field above. Once we finally arrive, we go and fetch our stashed gear, set up camp, and rest.

Aguja Guillaumet from our tent at Piedra Negra

The next few hours we start preparing for climbing. We evaluate conditions relative to our last attempt. We make a plan, repack our bags with ropes and our rack, arrange food, make dinner, and try to get to bed early. It is still light out -- it is almost always light out this time of year.

Preparing climbing gear in camp

At 3:30 am our alarm wakes us from whatever sleep we could get. After a hot breakfast and final preparations such as putting on crampons and fixing our headlamps to our helmets, we start to climb the next 600 m to Paso Guillaumet. As we ascend, the sun rises in the northeast, the temperature drops, and the slope steepens. 

One hundred meters below the pass, we enter the final couloir. In the couloir, the walls close in around us and we are forced to climb with crampons and ice axes due to the steeper snow. In some sections, the walls close all the way in and we climb up the rock using a technique known as "dry tooling." Higher up, we pass under a truck-sized chockstone. Here, the snow is nearly vertical and we kick steps to climb. Falling here is a bad idea, but the climbing is secure so we don´t use a rope. Above the chockstone, there is a hanging snowfield that is the last crux to the pass. Around to the right, the angle of the snow diminishes, and we finally emerge at the pass, about 2 hours after leaving camp.

Sheila high up on one of our attempts

At the pass, we can look down onto a steep glacier rolling down the east side and up onto our climb. We haven't had good rock climbing conditions yet but, even when covered in snow, the granite cracks and features look amazing. The climb starts with three easy to moderate pitches that we could simulclimb. Then there is a head wall with four parallel cracks ranging from 5.10c to 5.11a. From there, there are four more pitches ranging from moderate to 5.10. Then the route joins Comensaña-Fonrogue, angling up and right for four more pitches. The rock climbing ends on a 150 m long 30 degree hanging snow field just below the summit. A final scramble should take us to the proper summit needle or "aguja."

At this point we will have climbed almost 2100 m (~7000 ft) up from El Chaltén. This is a bit more than the climb up Mt. Whitney, which ascends ~6000 ft from the trailhead. Ideally, we will reverse the entire climb in the same day, celebrating back in town with a cheap bottle of Malbec.

$6.50 Malbec

Round 2

Well, it's not for lack of trying!

We went up again hoping to take advantage of a small opening in the weather that we had been watching for a few days. The plan was to hike up and establish base camp in a wind storm, wait for the weather to clear during the night, and then climb until the wind started to pick up again the next day. Our last weather forecast before leaving town however had a nasty surprise: lots of snow. But these forecasts are never reliable, right?

On the way up, we caught a glimpse of Fitz through the clouds and it was coated in ice. What little we could see of Guillaumet, however, looked remarkably good compared to last time we were up.

We made it up to Piedra Negra at about 1 pm, and set up our tent in abusive winds. It took both of us to hold the tent down during the gusts. Once we got it all tied down, we crawled in and fell asleep immediately. We awoke at about 2:30 with the winds still blowing.

When we awoke, we decided to try something. The wind might break in the afternoon and before the snow started. If we could reach the base of the Brenner route at the moment the wind broke, we had a chance to climb. If not, we would at least establish a boot track up to the start. So, we geared up and started climbing. (That is, after Tim convinced Sheila that the wind sounded worse inside the tent than outside the tent. This is actually was true but the pull of the sleeping bag and tent is a strong one.)

Climbing in the Patagonian wind is something special. Down by high camp, it was not too bad and we made good progress. As we climbed, however, the wind intensity grew. By 300 m above high camp, we started getting pinned down by gusts every couple minutes. By 500 m up, the wind was constantly crushing. We were getting rag-dolled around, fighting our way up. With each gust, we held tight to our ice axes ducked low to keep from getting blown over.After battling wind for over an hour and a half, we decided that the wind would not break, and we scurried back to camp. What we did see on this failed attempt, however, was beautiful clean snow-free cracks of the Brenner route. The route was in great shape!

Back in camp, we quickly fixed dinner and settled in to sleep. The wind blew through the night, and the snow started as well. When the alarm sounded at 3:30am, however, the world outside was silent. Shit: we would have to climb again.

As we started up again, the fog was dense and falling snow flashed in the light of our headlamps. Visibility sucked, so we couldn´t see any of Guillaumet. We caught our first sight of rock at the 300 m mark. Everything was coated in snow and ice -- conditions had turned terrible overnight. At least we could climb to the pass where the route started and scope things out.

The route to the pass follows a steep and often narrow colouir for 100 m. Climbing it was a blast.

Tim starting up the colouir to Passo Guillaumet

Between steep snow, dry tooling up sections where the walls closed in on us, a section of nearly vertical snow underneath a truck-sized chockstone (see image above), tunneling out from the mountain´s bowels, climbing a hanging snow wall above, and the final steep ramp to the pass made for an incredible adventure. We got to rely on a huge variety of skills, all with the comfort of great snow conditions and no wind. Not bad for an approach! (The digicam ran out of battery at this point, so no photos past this point.)

Atop all of this, we finally reached the base of our route. To the left, we could see the glacier and bergschrund at the start of the Amy colouir. Above, the Brenner route was a disaster of snow and ice making rock climbing a non-starter. In the distance beyond in every direction -- with about 100 m of visibility -- there was only white. While we would not get to climb, we were excited to finally see the route first hand. It looks great with a wide variety of steep cracks and corners snaking up the North face of Guillaumet. If we can there while it is in good conditions, we are confident we can climb it.

We turned to make our descent, dropping a vertical mile all the way back down to El Chaltén whereour steak dinner just hit the fry pan.

In summary: this was a bullshit weather window. Or, at least, someone forgot to open it.

Our spirits are still soaring after these latest attempts, and we are feeling strong after climbing up and down so many times. We are are eyeing up another break in the weather next week.

10:30 pm and it's still light out

But we're heading to bed because we're going for another attempt. Hiking to Piedra Negra and camping at there tomorrow. Attempting the Brenner-Moschioni route on the 27th during a nice little weather window. And planning to return the 28th.

We spent Christmas resting, feasting, and preparing so we're feeling really good. Tim watched two movies and never even left the hostel. He did manage to make bechemel sauce for hand-made pasta Sheila found in town and to fix the stove with our "in town toothbrush" (who needs more than 1 toothbrush any way?). Sheila watched one movie and managed a 20 min walk around town without getting blown away by 30 kt wind gusts. She also braised a chicken for Christmas dinner. Perfect resting regimen.