For Ice-Climbers Only
Ice climbing at Cogne, Valle d'Aosta, Italy, January 13-22, 2006

I scheduled my flight to arrive at Turin Citta Di Torino (TRN) before my American companions. They would arrive via Lufthansa from Frankfurt while I would arrive from Paris Orly via easyJet. My round-trip ticket had only cost €50, but I did not read the fine print in which easyJet states that they only allow its passengers 32 kg of checked-in sporting goods -- clearly not enough for an alpinist's gear. Excess baggage was charged at €7.50 per additional kilogram, and as a result my excess baggage cost was €75 -- talk about low cost European airlines. The Torino airport was in total disarray with preparations for the 2006 Winter Olympics Games, and looked more like a place that would be ready in another year, not another month.

Mat		Mehrdad		Karen

After overcoming our first clear obstacle --renting a big enough car in a nation of fast micro-cars-- we were on our way to Aosta, 115 km away. At Aosta we visited the local alpine gear store where I learned about the territorial nature of the climbing equipment industry in Europe; no Petzl in Italy, no Grivel in France. After a good pasta dinner at a local restaurant, we continued towards Epinel and the comfort of the Black Diamond Test Center.

The BD Test Center exceeds any climber accommodations that I have seen (even Joe's Bivi with its new toilets). The rooms are equipped with a full kitchen, nice bath, comfortable beds, and satellite TV (BTW, have you ever seen the Persian Music Channel? -- is like Britney Spears but with the seals off). For an additional €3.0 the BD Test Center will provide you with a great breakfast (although do not expect to get it in time for an alpine start) and at no additional cost you can test-drive the latest gear from Black Diamond and Kayland boots. And to top everything, the Test Center has a large indoor garage that is a blessing, especially on those very cold days. (A note of caution: bring your own towels -- the ones provided are not much better than napkins.) As it turned out, we had a one person room while the other housed three people, but this proved advantageous given Mat's snoring problem.

Saturday morning we went in search of a warm-up climb in the town of Lillaz. The Cascate di Lillaz (3+) is a beautiful icefall that forms with a hollow core and is only 5 minutes walk from the parking lot in town. As a consequence, this cascade and its neighbors are described by ready2climb.com as "overfrequented". Upon arrival, Karen and Mehrdad busied themselves with Lillaz, while Mat and I explored a short flow to its right that led to the top-rope anchor of a dry-tool problem worth exploring.

Cascate di Lillaz (3+)		ice pipe at the heart of the Cascate di Lillaz		ice curtain over dry-tool problem

At the problem, Mat showed his years of experience in climbing Adirondacks' thin ice by climbing ever higher the overhanging wall; I could not keep up. But being the first day out, we soon burned out and decided, on this coldest of days, to go in search of a sunny spot at the hikers trail. As we hiked down to join Mehrdad and Karen, a climber fell from a short easy climb, hit the deck (i.e., floor) and bounced off the ice.  Without hesitation, he restarted the lead propelled by the adrenaline generated during the fall. The adrenaline also made him shake uncontrollably and his crampons continuously ripped off the ice while his tools did not stick regardless of how hard he tried. Worse, his belayer, a rookie skinny girl, was not anchored to anything -- if this guy fell off from higher this time, he would drag her down the waterfall to her death.

Meanwhile, another weirdo came walking down the waterfall without crampons -- not a very advisable practice. Sure enough he slid off and went down the cascade. As I looked in horror, he was able to hold on to the thinnest of twigs just before sliding off to his death.  In the meantime, our climbing "friend" tried in vane to get a dull screw started. What the hell was going on with these people? Shaking my head in disbelief, I suggested that we leave before having to spend the rest of the afternoon in a rescue operation. And so, we spent the afternoon scouting the icefalls in the Valeille drainage, which we found had been baked off (i.e., melted away) by the sun.

That evening we relaxed at the Bar Licone --Cogne local climbing bar-- and had the best dinner at the Ristorante Taverna Lou Ressignon, located at the end of the town's main drag.

Sunday we visited Valnontey. Three and a half kilometers into the drainage from the trailhead, Mehrdad and Karen started climbing the opening pitch of Patri Left (II, 4) while Mat and I hiked a little further to climb Acheronte (II, 3) -- both climbs facing north-west on the right side of the drainage.

Acheronte simply goes on forever; there is no other way to describe it. After the initial vertical pitch (60 mH), the climb becomes a endless series of low-angle rolling steps that lead to an exit chimney -- but the problem is that you never arrive at the chimney. For hours, I ran pitch (i.e., legth of climbing rope) after pitch up the soupy blue tongue of ice as time and energy dwindled but the ice never ended. Finally, at the base of the exit chimney, and with the watch indicating 15:30, we decided to bailout -- a most frustrating decision.

climbers on the opening pitch of Patri		Patri (Left & Right -- image's left side) and Acheronte (right)		Acheronte
Acheronte: the never-ending story...

Dusk came as we finished the last rappel and arrived at the safety of the scree; the decision to bailout had been the correct one. Karen and Mehrdad waited for us by the scree and with the help of our headlamps we started the arduous task of crossing the buttress back into Patri to recover our packs. Halfway there, I noticed that I had dropped one of my piolets (i.e., alpine climbing tools) --a disaster this early in the trip-- so I went back for it, but never found it. In the dark, tired and frustrated, we made our way back to the town of Valnontey where our rental car would not start because the diesel had frozen in the fuel line. Can you say suck! To our rescue came Andrea & Stefano Herren, owners of the Hotel Restaurant La Barme and Camping Lo Stambecco, who provided us with dinner, allowed our car to stay in their indoor garage during the night, and drove us back to the Test Center -- really nice people.

Monday morning, I asked Rafael (the operator of the Test Center) to drive us back to Valnontey to get our car. There, reality hit hard when the car would not start as it was still too cold. With the aid of Andrea Herren (who was very busy attending to her little boy), we were able to secure a tow truck that would bring our rental car to Aosta. While Karen and Mehrdad attended to the car, Mat and I hiked back to the base of Acheronte in search of my lost piolet. After an hour of searching, and just as I had given up all hope, Mat spotted the leash of the tool -- life was good. Meanwhile, the car was placed in a heated garage and allowed to thaw. Mehrdad and Karen pumped 1/2 a tank of the Cogne diesel formulation --which has a lower freezing point-- and returned to Valnontey for us. But by the time they we got back, the day was over and the sad part was that we felt more tired than if we had climbed.

Tuesday, we felt the need to even the score with Lady Luck, and so we returned to Valnontey for more. Karen and Mehrdad tackled some of the climbs in the left side of the drainage near town, while Mat and I went in search of a climb that had intrigued our imagination during the last two days -- Benedetto Virus (3).

From the trail, the choke stone pitch appeared to be the crux (i.e., most difficult section) of the climb -- wrong! The first pitch was the killer. The climb was virgin (i.e., no one had climbed it before) and the ice was in very poor condition. Dinner-plate after dinner-plate threatened at ripping off the placement of my other alpine tool (a dinner-plate results when a layer of snow is trapped between to layers of ice leading to a very fragile structure in the icefall). At the top of the pitch I exited left into a hanging belay station under a rock roof where you could see the running water under the icefall. As soon as Mat arrived at the belay, I restarted the climbing, at times breaking through the ice and creating small jets of water that made frozen cables out of our ropes. From the amphitheater midway up the climb, the chimney did not look difficult and we decided to continue. What a great climb!

the first pitch having fun Mat rappelling down

Mat arriving at the hanging belay Mat swinging in the chimney belay station feet on the grown

running water under the icefall the view from above did we really climb all that?

Our plans for the week included a visit to Chamonix --the birthplace of alpinism-- and on Wednesday we drove there. First we traveled back to Aosta where we took the A5 in the direction of Courmayeur. There, we took the Mont Blanc tunnel and voilà, we were back in France. What we did not anticipate is how big the Mont Blanc Massive really is. It is big enough to hold the weather on one side of the range and so, by doing the 11 km crossing, we went from sunny Italy to stormy France.

In Chamonix we visited all the mandatory places: the Maison de la Montagne, Snell Sports (the greatest climbing store I have ever seen -- yes, bigger than Neptune), and even posed in front of the restaurant le Bivouac. At Snell Sports, Mat acquired a pair of Petzl Nomics, which he had been eyeing for weeks, and we bought a gamut of other climbing equipment (all tax free!).

the Three Stooges outside the Maison de la Montagne

Karen and Mat fondling at Snell Sports

Karen, Mehrdad, and Pedro outside the restaurant le Bivouac

All that tourism made us feel like climbing and so we went in search of icefalls. In vane we looked and looked for the roadside climbs that a Brit guide had mentioned back in Cogne. Finally the car got stuck on the slippery uphill of Route des Tissieres, at the base of the Télésiège du Glacier des Bossons, and most unreasonably but  predictably, my temper flared up. I demanded to be let out of the car so I could hike to the icefalls. To his credit, Mehrdad kept his cool, got the car out of the way of the local bus, and reminded me that my bad temper was in no way helping the situation.

Frustrated, we tried to leave town, but after not being able to find the customs office at the border (yes, we did not know any better -- read about tax free Europe), we returned to Chamonix to ask how to redeem our tax refund. At that point we resigned ourselves to being tourists for the rest of the day. Later that evening, when we emerged from the Mont-Blanc tunnel into Italy, we were treated to scenes of immense beauty as the clouds mixed with the mountains on the east side of the range.

Thursday's dawn saw us back at Valnontey where Mat and I tried the climbs on the left side of the drainage near the trailhead. The first climb was Thoule (II, 3+), which we shared with a pair of scared climbers. They had taken the easy way up the headwall, so we tackled the hardest line available. But just one meter from the top, I was forced to down climb (yes, I do not like lowering off ice screws) to avoid being hit by the ice being dropped by the climber who had diagonally crossed over me. My decision to down climb proved wise as chunk after chunk of ice --the size of toaster ovens-- come down our selected route. Once fire ceased, I got back up and Mat took the next lead to the belay station at the base of the short pillars. The pillars were treatened by severe ice fall due to intense sun exposure (the climbs in this side face south-east). With the sun rapidly bringing down the climb and our climbing companions moving at a snail's pace, we abandoned the climb, but not before an ice block --the size of a TV-- flew over my head as I ducked behind a rock at the base of the climb.

The second climb of the day was Ingegneria (3+), which by this time was in the relative safety of shadows. Mehrdad and Karen met us there, and while they climbed the right side, Mat suggested that we try a most strange white mushroom route on the left side. These mushrooms were the size of small office cubicles and one by one I worked the problems that they served -- dug my way under it, searched for good ice where to place screws and then climbed straight up through them.

Meanwhile, two climbers arrived at the base of the climb. I was too busy with my mushroom mining expedition to notice, but according to Mat, the guys practiced how to place screws at the base of the climb, then fell after 2 feet of climbing, and left with their tails between their legs. (I wonder... Was there a convention of incompetent climbers in town that week?) Mat took the opportunity to try his new Nomics and discovered that climbing leashless is a totally different animal -- a very pumpy one. At the top of the climb, the four of us took advantage of the "comfortable" stance at the rappel station to make dinner plans.

Climber at the base of Ingegneria	the view from inside a mushroom	the rappel station

The choice for the evening was the great pizzeria at Valnontey. Its early 1900's rustic architecture has an ambiance that makes the dining experience exquisite and its computer-controlled rotating brick oven creates masterpieces of Italian cuisine. The soupette (not to be confused with the soupe) is a meal in itself and the variety of pizzas has something for everyone. The restaurant has two levels, with the first level being the hangout for the local teenagers, and the upstairs being a more serious dinning room for tourists. Our waitress was very friendly, but she tended to bring more food than we ordered.

Friday was the last day available for serious climbing and we decided to all four climb together. With the weekend crowds already in town, we tried a remote climb (4.5 km from the Valnontey trailhead) known as Flash Estivo (III, left 4+, right 3). The approach --in the immortal words of Mat-- "is the worst f*cking approach I have done in two weeks." It starts with a bad bushwhack which is followed by an exposed ascent up a steep talus. Trust me, this is not the place to break a leg.

At the base of the climb, Karen and Mehrdad rapidly racked-up and started climbing as Mat and I fiddled around with gear. By the time we got started, we discovered that the climb is an immense bowling alley where only one party can climb at a time. Mat and I were being bombarded from above and there was little that we could do. Mat led the second pitch into a cave (made by a natural depression in the rock and a curtain of ice dripping from above) where we hid. It was --let's say-- awful! With every hiss, Mat and I huddled together trying to crawl into our helmets. Mehrdad tried to avoid dropping ice from above but there was no way avoid what was happenig to us.

Mehrdad racking-up	view from the ice cave	waiting for the sky to fall

After much walkie-talkie consulting, we thought best for Karen and Mehrdad to rappel down from the top of the second pitch while Mat and I retreated. Mat was not happy. The barrage from above had frazzled his nerves and he did not think it fair to have worked so hard to get there and then not climb at all. I, for once, was full of understanding and empty of anger -- after all this is the way that alpine climbing sometimes goes. Mat decided he was not walking down the hideous talus and demanded that we rappel. On numerous previous times, it had been me who has felt crappie so I completely understood Mat; but what a difficult task this was. The ropes would just not pull down over that talus. After about four rappels, I sweet-talked Mat into down climbing a short section and from there on he was his old self -- admittedly, a pissed-off version of himself.

Back at the car, we met a group of Chamonix boys waiting for their partners, who had decided to "warm-up" by linking Patri-left (II, 4) and Patri-right-direct (II, 5+) in one day. I imposed on them my poor French and to my surprise, they understood me. They actually answered my questions. My God, I can speak French! That night we had dinner at Lou Ressignon once again.

With the trip almost over, Saturday was dedicated to some roadside climbing at Lillaz and shopping at Cogne. I had the desire to film myself climbing out of the ice pipe at the heart of the Cascate di Lillaz and so we returned to the scene of the first day. Prior to leaving the Test Center, Mat and I asked to demo the Kayland's Ice Comp boot/crampon combo. I must admit that they are great; it is like ice climbing in rock shoes. The problem is that they do not offer any warmth. This is a boot for competition or roadside climbing. You need to bring an aditional pair of hiking boots and you can only wear the Kaylands for about a half-hour in normal winter weather. At the cascade, I started by leading through the roof of the ice cave at the center of the icefall. I placed two screws at the base of the cave and proceeded with disregard for what

happened next -- easy. Later, after a very pumped Mat joined me at the belay (it takes some time to get used to leashless tools), we set to climb the ice pipe. Since a belayer could not be inside the pipe without getting hit by the falling ice, I could not lead the climb. Karen belayed, Mat filmed, I climbed; the result is shown in the video above. (To view it, you will need to download QuickTime if you have not done it yet.)

That evening when we returned to the Test Center to prepare for the journey back home, Rafael told us of two British climbers (41 year old male and 38 year old female) who died earlier in the day while climbing Acheronte. Apparently, the man decided to simu-climb the low-angle rolling steps while not placing any protection. One of them fell and, as they were tied together, the other was ripped off the climb. He died upon impact, but she lasted long enough to be found by another team in the area. By the time the helicopter arrived, she had died. Having been on that climb just a few days before, the incident put a somber note on an otherwise perfect trip.

I want to thank Karen, Mat, and Mehrdad for inviting me to come along in their trip and for their friendship. I hope we can climb together soon again.

Guidebook:

Media Notes:

Pedro I. Espina^© 2006