SAMAYA x ALESSANDRO BEBER
ATTEMPT ON THE EAST FACE OF CERRO TORRE
Alessandro Beber and his climbing partners set out to tackle a new route on Cerro Torre, after accepting an invitation from Elio Orlandi, an unconditional lover of the region. Elio has completed numerous ascents, many of which are first ascents, the most famous likely being "Linea di Eleganza" in 2004 on the northeast face of Fitz Roy. Alessandro recounts his experience in Patagonia and praises patience and slowness, as a convinced devotee of Elio's teaching.
"At 70 years old, Elio Orlandi, a passionate veteran of Patagonia, invited me to join him on his expedition to the heart of the South American continent. Since 1982, he has returned there at least once a year. Back when El Chaltén didn't exist as we know it today, Elio built his home there, even though no road allowed one to reach the place where the village is now located. Elio is a true expert on the region, knowing the mountains like the back of his hand and recounting the fabulous stories of expeditions hidden behind every line.
The project we embarked on was born 20 years earlier, on the east face of Cerro Torre. This line is one of Elio's greatest dreams. Unfortunately, after a few years, he lost his climbing partner during a descent. For many years after this tragic accident, he didn't want to hear about this route anymore.
Last year, he chose to return, to honor his friend's memory by reaching the summit of this 1200-meter-high, breathtakingly steep wall. This expedition wasn't on my list of plans at the time, but his invitation was one you simply cannot refuse.
We knew the project promised to be difficult and that we would need some luck. After so many years, we almost had to start the ascent from the beginning, as the existing equipment was no longer reliable. You couldn't trust the pitons, the slings, or even less so the fixed ropes in their poor condition.
Before we could start, we dug a snow cave in a sheltered corner, where we set up our bivouac. We spent 13 nights waiting for the bad weather to subside so we could set off on the route. For Elio, this way of approaching the climb is normal: he has always done it this way. Yet, we were the only mountaineers to proceed in this manner. Usually, everyone waits in El Chaltén and then rushes to the walls when the weather forecast permits. For us, every half-day with less wind and acceptable weather was an opportunity to climb a bit higher.
We were driven by this desire to use every chance that came our way. Waiting two weeks in a snow cave is still a unique experience. Teamwork proves imperative there, and individual frustrations have no place within the group. Despite the bad weather, our good rapport and shared passion for mountaineering taught us a lot and turned these moments, suspended in time, into precious memories.
Finally, we benefited from a favorable weather window lasting three days. It was the best we had in two weeks, so we launched our final assault. The immense wall is as breathtaking as it is dangerous. The ice mushrooms threaten to break off at any moment, the wind chills us to the bone, and as soon as the temperature rises, the snow melts and falls abruptly. Every hour, the environment changes unpredictably. On the wall, we found refuge in safe spots we reached quickly, avoiding staying exposed on the wall for too long between these "safe" zones.
Despite all our efforts, the window was too short. After two nights on the wall, we had to turn back, forced by the bad weather. We were lucky enough to try, but not lucky enough to succeed. We loved pushing our limits, but we weren't ready to risk our lives. Sometimes, the mountain clearly says "no," and you have to know how to listen. We brought home memorable life moments after spending more than ten days in an ice cave, savoring the slow mountaineering of a time long past."
