SAMAYA x ALESSANDRO BEBER
ATTEMPT ON THE EAST FACE OF CERRO TORRE
Alessandro Beber and his rope-mates set out to tackle a new route on Cerro Torre, after accepting an invitation from Elio Orlandi, an unconditional lover of the area. Elio has made numerous ascents, many of them openings, the most famous probably being "Linea di Eleganza" in 2004 on the north-east face of Fitz Roy. Alessandro tells us about his experience in Patagonia and praises patience and slowness, a convinced follower of Elio's teaching.
"At the age of 70, 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 at least once a year. Back in the days when El Chaltén didn't exist as we know it today, Elio set up his home here, even though there was no road to reach where the village now stands. Elio is a true expert on the region, knowing the mountains like the back of his hand and recounting the fabulous expedition stories behind every line.
The project we embarked on was born 20 years ago, on the east face of Cerro Torre. This line was one of Elio's greatest dreams. Unfortunately, a few years later, he lost his climbing companion on a descent. For many years after this tragic accident, he never wanted to hear about this route again.
Last year, he chose to go there again, to honor his friend's memory by reaching the top of this breathtakingly dizzying 1,200-meter-high wall. At the time, this expedition wasn't part of my plans, but his invitation was one you just couldn't refuse.
We knew that the project was going to be difficult and that we would need luck. After so many years, we almost had to start the climb all over again, as the existing equipment was so unreliable. We couldn't trust the pitons or straps, let alone the fixed ropes in poor condition.
Before we could set off, we dug a snow cave in a wind-sheltered corner, where we set up our bivouac. We stayed for 13 nights, waiting for the bad weather to dry up before setting off on the route. For Elio, this approach is normal: he's always done it this way. But we were the only climbers to do it this way. Usually, everyone waits at 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 little higher.
We were determined to make the most of our opportunities. Waiting two weeks in a snow cave is still a singular experience. Teamwork is imperative, and individual frustrations have no place in the group. Despite the bad weather, our good understanding and shared passion for mountaineering taught us a lot and made these moments suspended in time precious.
Finally, we had a three-day window of favorable weather. It was the best we'd had in two weeks, so we set off for the final assault. The immense wall is as breathtaking as it is dangerous. Mushrooms of ice threaten to break off at any moment, the wind chills us, and as soon as the temperature rises, the snow melts and falls sharply. Every hour, the environment changes unpredictably. On the wall, we found refuge in safe spots which we quickly reached, avoiding staying exposed for too long on the wall between these "safety" zones.
Despite our best efforts, the window of opportunity was too short. After spending two nights on the wall, we had to turn back, forced by bad weather. We were lucky enough to try, but not to succeed. We enjoyed pushing ourselves, but we weren't prepared to risk our lives. Sometimes, the mountain clearly says "no", and you have to listen. We brought home some memorable moments of life, after staying more than ten days in an ice cave, savoring the slow mountaineering of a time long past."
