MIRROR WALL ATTEMPT

 

In July 2023, Nicolas Favresse and his climbing partners, Sean, Ben, and Franco, headed to Greenland with the goal of establishing a route on the Mirror Wall. Freshly returned, Nicolas shares their adventure with us.

"That was everything."

Those were the words spoken by Sean on our eleventh day climbing the Mirror Wall in Greenland.

On the very first day of the approach, I tripped on a sharp rock, fell into the heart of a glacier, and ended up with a deep wound on my shin.

I held back, trying to heal my wound while Sean, Ben, and Franco hauled the gear over the 30-kilometer approach. I discovered the scale of the line they had chosen the moment I found myself on the wall ten days later. My injury wasn't fully healed, but I couldn't let the guys go up the wall without me. I was lucky enough to meet a crew of three French sailors who were happy to help me carry my gear.

It only took a quick glance for me to understand that we were about to take on the most ambitious line we had ever attempted. It is a sheer granite shield, featureless, with only the occasional flake or edge to progress. Only the last third of the wall seemed to have a continuous crack. Regardless, to find a good challenge, you have to attempt what seems impossible. So, there is no doubt that we felt we were taking on a great challenge.

It took us two days to reach 300 meters with all our gear, water, and food by climbing an easier pillar on the right side of the wall and setting up camp at the start of the difficult section. I tried to stay motivated and optimistic, but it was hard to ignore the weight of the daunting challenges that lay ahead.

On my very first lead, 10 meters above a poorly protected ledge, I needed to place a piton. An hour and a half later, exhausted from hammering, I was finally able to clip into it and decided to let Sean continue the pitch. Eight hours later, four more pitons were placed, bringing us 30 meters closer to the summit. I could only imagine the amount of effort required to place all the necessary pitons to climb this face while staying safely enough secured.

That evening, when we reached our camp after four days of intense physical exertion, I noticed that my wound was infected. I had to start a course of antibiotics and stick to playing music while the infection healed.

Sean led everything for the following eight days, using fifteen 8mm bolts and four extraction pitons. He spent at least eight hours a day on it, making about 40 meters of progress per day. The ascent was an incredibly intense mix of aid climbing and free climbing.

Finally, about 30 meters from what looked like easier terrain, Sean took a few big falls in a disintegrating dihedral, leaving him no way to stop and place protection. He had made an incredible effort to get us 700 meters off the ground while drilling only 18 protection holes, but we were faced with a dilemma: drill a ladder of pitons to continue progressing—which we have always considered unacceptable by our own rules of the game—or give up.

You can easily guess what happened next!

It was hard for Sean to give up because he had poured so much energy into this climb, but we all felt it was the right choice to stick to our convictions. In a way, that is the true value of climbing: the fact that you cannot climb every wall. Some will always keep us dreaming by remaining unattainable.

 

We had a little bit of time left before running out of food. Franco and Sean were finally able to enjoy free climbing some sections of the wall. In a spectacular effort, after practicing the moves on fixed ropes for days, Franco managed to free a short section, moving from one ledge to another. By then, the infection had finally cleared up, and my wound was starting to look better. It took us four more days to descend and transport our gear back to the sea, and another four days to reach Iceland.

Even though we returned home this time without a summit in our pockets, I can assure you that the adventure was no less powerful!"