colour doc

A Fast Mission

At the beginning of August, together with João Saraiva and Mário Inocêncio, we headed one week to Picos da Europa to climb some old and modern classic long routes.

We started warming up and waiting for the weather to settle on the south face of the range at Hoces de Vegacervera. The following day we drove and approached Vega Huerta hiking from Caldevilla de Valdéon in between mists, cow bells and into the early evening darkness, bivouacking in a cave facing Peña Santa. We climbed the obligatory Resgate Emocional, negotiating the wall complex way down with a few references in mind from a previous activity and descending back to the car on the journey. A rest day spent travelling across the gorges to the north side was the perfect excuse to refuel with filling Asturian food and cider, as well as strolling the streets of Cangas de Onís old town amidst lively summer movement. The night was spent in a random football pitch on the way to Arenas de Cabrales.

Afterwards came the usual routine of sharing loads, walking to and pitching tent at Vega de Urriellu. The next morning Naranjo de Bulnes’ wake up call came in the form of a bouldery first pitch. It took me a couple of goes to send it, before continuing onsighting the remnant twelve rope lengths of the excellent Gizon Berri Bat Naiz (Soy un Hombre Nuevo). We took it easy on the subsequent dawn-to-dark, hydrating, chatting to recently meet climbers, searching for fresh shades around camp and solar showering with a view.

During the last 24 hours of this trip, I enjoyed doing the Rabadá-Navarro, seven hundred and fifty meters of Urriellu’s West face line of weakness, with Joãozinho. Five hours of fun climbing, before packing everything and walking down the valley, clearing straight into the car and Portugal through a late-night of driving that ended it all, as if we were a police patrol.

From the Well to the Sky

18 hours and 4200m of unevenness, to climb Torre Cerredo's west face Nómadas en Tierra de Nadie, in-a-day.

The idea was to meet in Picos da Europa and have some fun. Not surprisingly, “Samu” Ortega, came up with the plan to get on the above-mentioned climb, which he, Eduardo de Deus and Rubén de Francisco had opened the previous summer. No one had tried it yet, so repeating sending the pitches was the prime task at hand but, a further twist needed to be added... Considering the wall’s remote location and in order to avoid a two-day outing and consequent logistics, as well as willingness to approach via the “famous” Canal de Dobresengos*, the in-a-day activity was born.

We started walking from Caín - pretty much the lowest altitude (460m) at Picos de Europa – at five in the morning, getting to the bottom of the wall (2250m) 4h40m later; climbed 400m in nine rope lengths of high quality grey limestone – rigorously opened with very technical, obligatory free climbing up to 7a+ difficulties - ; topped at the roof of the range (2648m) on a good timing, all in all this was only act 2/4; down-climbed from the summit towards the Bermeja gap and scree slopes back to Hoyo Grande (3/4); recomposed with a bocadillo and, made up our minds – personally I picked some tunes - to re-immerse our bodies and attention on the remaining steep 1500m downwards.

We arrived at eleven in the evening to Caín with weakened legs, sore feet, frantic laughs; the same quietness and faded yellow street lights that defined the small village, clustered deep there in the limestone karst: 4/4.

* “Access Caín - Dobresengos - Hoyo Grande: Avoid if you do with a heavy backpack, at midday and without water, there's 1500m of vertical gain in one of the most impressive couloirs of the massif. If you like Picos, you'll end up doing it at least one time in your life. Consider 5h”. BENGOCHEA, Angel ; RODRIGUEZ, Miguel – Sector N.5: Cerredo. In Escalada en Roca en Los Picos de Europa: 2009. p. 206

+ topo info

Double Trouble

This involuntary double exposure - those occasional happenings which are one of the rewards from the frequent use of film -, can be read as the frame where the van crowded southwest of Portugal meets the similarly packed Yosemite valley in California; a journey to a place where I always dreamt of climbing and, my daily habit of documenting the reality and characters I come across where I live.

 
El Capitan_Yosemite_Barranco_Sudoeste_Portugugal_© Carlos Simes.jpg
 

High Sierra Trip

A selection of moments in “the range of light” with friends Samu, Edu, José and João while climbing walls and navigating the landscapes of the High Sierra of California (Needles, Pine Creek Canyon, Tuolumne Meadows, Hoover Wilderness’ Incredible Hulk and Yosemite) the last September.

El Chaltén / Cochamó / Frey

The previous summer while climbing on northern Spain’s multi-pitch limestone with rope partner “Samu”el Ortega and teaming up in Chamonix with Silvestre “Silver” Barrientos, I got to listen to some stories of Patagonia, from which the most probable moment of exposure was, when enduring two consecutive – colder than usual for the Alps – summer bivouacs, they let me know that they had never had such conditions in the mountains around El Chaltén and, that, the granite there was as good and better…

Surprised, availabilities for the end of the year were almost immediately discussed, as well as projects and more about the last seasons; with increasing activity, better weather and forecasts. My ideas of climbing in the far South latitudes started to change, conceiving a go on some of the walls that occupied a space of fascination in my mind. Motivated by the challenges ahead, September marked the beginning of a training regime methodically progressing until the moment of departure. Tales of long and tiring approaches, non-stop technical climbing and epic descents, brought disciplined running and slowly building up routes volume and intensity to the goals. Late December, January and February travelling and climbing in Argentinian and Chilean Patagonia.

After a few weeks in El Chaltén, bouldering, sport climbing and, checking weather charts at least twice a day, the locked low pressure situation was getting way too obvious to be avoided. Strong winds, cold temperatures and snow plastered faces were conjuring for impossible climbing conditions, with no windows bigger than twelve hours and non-suited for the rock. It was very curious to observe in-loco how social media polarizes things nowadays. So, when local authority Rolando Garibotti stated and posted the above atmospheric conspiracy (“Maybe it was time for the place to recover its status of mythic inaccessibility”) and Colin Haley moved out of town; all of a sudden, it seemed everyone’s forecasting literacy came to light, and epiphany, the time has come to move on!

Road to the north along the carretera austral towards Chile’s beautiful Cochamó valley and, a visit to friends in Bariloche to get to know Frey and its quality climbing. Ahí Va!

Dru / P.C.Portalet / Blatière & Combe Maudite

One week and a couple days passed since Picos de Europa and my eyes now drift scan the grass for the expected: Samu (cocooned in the sleeping bag) and two big packs laying against the ground. Buenos dias Bitxo!

Late afternoon, the 28th of July, the van gears down through Chamonix-Mont Blanc lower valley entrance at Sallanches with the usual arrival stunning views and fingers crossed to the atmosphere. Next morning I headed from the Gaillands to the city center with pain au chocolat, baguette and the bookstore in mind. As I cycled slalom Cham’s streets and turned the mobile on, the whatsapp popped a few messages. “Lets go to the Dru in the first weather window? (…) I already arrived (..) sleeping in the park where we were the last time”. The starting lines of our eighteen days séjour.

Dru – One of the main ideas for the stay. Stable meteo arriving. We waited one day in Chamonix for Silvestre “Sílver” Barrientos to join us as he travelled alone from Catalonia. Hadn’t met him beforehand but Samu told me we would be a good team. Why not a party of three? Less pitches led but entertaining and safer on the alpine climbs. Calm vibes and common psyche to do the American Direct and summit via the north face. We packed light and shared loads in between us. Samu and I took bivy bags only, something we would come to regret and remember, especially for the first month, with some toes tip numbness!

Super line throughout the 1200m, plus, I had the privilege to lead the mid part of the wall with the hardest dihedral pitches. Driven by the usual beautiful gestures of such type of corner climbing, and with images of Christophe Profit soloing it in 1982, I pushed to keep it together onsighting it with my pack and the melody of the ice axe scratching against the rock. Cold temperatures and verglassed top half of the wall, which Silver negotiated with a cool mind and the right pace. Another, second shiver bivouac to be withstand on the top. My birthday gift felt like a rite of passage! First light saw us jumping out from our crippled positions and got moving, on the intricate and prone to rock fall descent abseils. We arrived to the cosy Charpoua cabin just on time to escape a full day of storms and rain; enjoy a Raclette and some topo dossier classical readings.

Petit Clocher du Portalet – We doubted, the weather seemed ok for two days and we would need at least three for one other plan… Excellent crack climbing awaiting on Esprit de Clocher, La Sud-Est and État de Choc; a new place to know on the Swiss side of the massif and, good company as we met with Simón Elías and Igor Irazusta.

Blatière & Combe Maudite – Silver got back to Spain. It rained for almost forty eight hours and progressively the grand bleu would install. We packed for four days, celebrated Helenita’s birthday – with a by now traditional tortilla evening, Weissbier, some Häagen-Dazs to the occasion – and left early the next morning. One route (Fidel Fiasco) in the Pilier Gris de Blatière, sleeping at the Lac Bleu; day two moving up to Aiguille du Midi, traversing the Vallée Blanche and pitching the tent in the glacier – relaxing reading and enjoying the place the rest of the afternoon. Next two journeys: more on-sighting on Les Untouchables, Trident du Tacul and L’Echo des Alpages, Grand Capucin.

Ordesa / Peña Montañesa / Picos d’Europa

Mid June and the first part of the working season is done. Roughly two months of logistics and cycling with guests, with only a few days cragging and bouldering jammed in between tours and free afternoons. Body and mind were already missing multi-day vertical activity and the scents of mountain living. Luckily, excitement was seedling with a plan for the summer with a great partner.

We left Costa Brava with a farewell to the then starting high temperatures and the upcoming busy touristic months but, with happy sights on its calm Mediterranean and quaint countryside charms to continue in September/October’s guiding.

First stop, Ordesa/Monte Perdido – A lot of expectations to climb the valley walls and meet with “Samu”el Ortega again. Years have passed since we last climbed together in the Alps and there we were catching up, start strengthening arms and legs, tune ourselves for the multitude of plans discussed over messages and now waiting ahead. Four days, three routes on different walls (Tozal del Mallo, Libro Abierto and Gallinero) with their beautiful Ordesa approaches and top-outs. Volume to put things running. JENGA AÍ (as for the Jenga game character of the climbing there)!

Second stop, Peña Montañesa – Another place I had been curious about. Four more days, two wall routes and some overhanging climbing at Bielsa. Really appreciated the rock and lines character on both the terrain d’aventure and the sport sector. Campsite with the van by the river. Samu leaves for home and the fireman’s action; we’re aiming for some more. Road to the West.

Third stop, Picos de Europa – Desfiladero de La Hermida and its sport sectors. Alternative summer environment, only warming whenever squeezing tufas for some steep sends and, late in the day, when jumping in the hot natural spring waters for relaxation. Rest days surfing and discovering the Cantabrian/Asturian coast, sampling green Spain’s best (Gamoneu smoked cheese) and some Celtic culture reminiscents (A.K.A. Cider). Vincent (Hélène’s brother) visiting, autonomy backpacks for a three day and one climb traverse in the heart of the range. The return of the Tortillero de Mocejón and off we go to Posada de Valdéon with two routes selected from the Txolos guidebook. One, Tiro Pedabejo, a random spot, great piece of rock; two, more packing, this time for an outing at the more remote Peña Santa. All smooth with the preparation climbs – accomplished with fun and amidst great backdrops. Enthusiasm to get back to Picos for a fourth visit.

Last days of July. Slow, three days countercurrent driving (as most vehicles on the busy motorway were southbound) and recovering period along the Cantabrian sea, the Pyrennees; towards the Provence Alps for the French acclimatization.

End of the Line

The closing of a journey across Europe. Eighteen months ago we decided to leave Portugal, to empty our home and get on a moving one.

We accomplish our expectations, tested resources, tasted near and not that close cultures with the possible neutral attitude, across twelve borders (same number for the internet USB sticks). Sometimes we tumbled over familiar elements in random places. We visit thirty different climbing areas, sending around nine hundred and fifty pitches of rock; we walked a lot of trails; Hélène was guided by four yoga teachers; we joined and used fire and music; find some waves and surfed regular spots; got robbed once (two bicycles), lost our dog twice, cruised without a window – taken by a fierce Bura – for a long while. We decided to travel slowly and settled for long periods of time for convenience and a realistic sense of places. On the process, we enriched our soul with open views and different landscapes, neither more beautiful nor greater, just singular; drove approximately 40.000 kilometers on pavement and not so soft roads, having just one flat tire and running out of fuel on some occasions.

We met a lot of interesting people along the way – thanks again for everything. We strengthen our bodies and minds and realised that, to a certain extent, we were lucky to have the chance and motivation to experience it all.

Now we’re back to where lines go along fishing rods, perpendicular and parallel to an almost always sunny horizon and the tides rhythm that, come and go.

Kalymnos

Kaly-, (greek) prefix, meaning good, beautiful…

We arrived at Kalymnos on a stormy Thursday night after looking at it from afar (Kos) during the whole day as, no big ferries could cross the tumultuous waters to take us and our camper van. Finally, the wind decreased and we were right on time for a Greek dinner at Tsaki’s living room. We met a few late-season climbers who were enjoying the now peaceful crags atmosphere. After a chilly Fix beer, a Greek omelet and a feta feast, we were ready to sleep facing Telendos with the van being rocked by the gusts; and still dreaming about how it would look like for real. Kalynykhta!

Kalymera! On the following day, the greatness of this mythic place was up to our expectations: climbing paradise, stunning landscape! Tufas everywhere – tufas to squeeze, tufas to sit on, tufas to stand with no hands, tufas for knee bars, drop knees, unseen tufas’ shapes, unheard tufas names (kalypipes, brocolis…), tufas, tufas!

We spent one month climbing and trying to avoid the rain (somehow always possible in the island of the beautiful waters) at different sectors : Panorama, Grande Grotta, Arhi, Kastry, Ivory tower, Odysseia, Olympic, Noufaro, Inspiration…Along with fellow climbers: Jesse from Australia, soon heading to the Moroccan swells; Elise, an American from Squamish; Gerry, the steel oldschool Sheffield lady who’s now local; Chris, another English escaping her majesty’s rains, also, currently living in Kalymnos; Alex, bold French skier developing rock skills for a guiding title; and, Sone, on crouches slowly recovering a freshly broken foot on a top rope diet, Norwegian. We alternated steep, fun tufa climbing with friendly, spicy warm dinners at each other’s studios and our van. Kalyspera!

Rainy days brought up another surprise: surfing is possible in a wintry Kalymnos, and – as for the mediterranean in general – the Aegean sea produces some short spells of swell under stormy winds. Not to be wasted whenever there’s a board around!

After one month and two days of Kalymnian rock, generous on-sights, rains, Quercus chasing hundreds of street cats – bringing some balance to this insular habitat -, goats and feta cheese in dramatic proportions, baklavas sweetness, one alternative Christmas dinner, one New Year’s eve (Kalyhrona!) and lots of more rain, we decided to hit the sea.

Delta Minox

Six o’clock in the morning, the alarm is ringing a bit earlier than usual – as of a sudden I’m out of bed strongly motivated by the journey ahead. The same must have happened to my partner who arrived to our wheeled place fifteen minutes earlier than what had been agreed the previous day. By such fact and his face, I was led to think and asked if he had rested properly or if we shared the same stormy sleep! With a childish smile and positive answer he came in…

While we were having coffee, observing the first lights touching the summits of Pizzi del Ferro (3199m), we started a conversation on snow climbs. Stefano humbly told me that he is a regular ski mountaineer, had been on the summit of Cho Oyu without oxygen but had lately devoted himself to rock climbing more than anything. Summed up with accounts of his free solo activities in Val di Mello, I felt confidence in our team while striding the long mountain path that leaves from Bagni di Masino to the bottom of Cima Scingino and from there on sharing the twelve pitches of Delta Minox (460m, 7b+).

In one of the attempts to find company for the bigger walls of Val di Mello, I was introduced to Stefano Dotti by Andrea Migliano - my rope mate from Lavorare con Lentezza. According to him, “Bimbo” also intended to try the 1988 chef d'oeuvre of Tarcisio Fazzini, Livio Gianola, Sabina Gianola, and Norberto Riva. My initial reading in one of the guidebooks informed that it is a contender for the more exposed multi-pitch slab climb in the Alps; the hardest of the central region. The web showed an interesting Italian account of a previous rope solo ascent, and I already knew the respect that the name of the route evoked to locals. From then on, and till the moment we started climbing, it seemed as if any variable could serve as an excuse not to go and discover by ourselves what the difficulties were.

When on the 5th of June 10am we started the first pitch of the amazing pillar, we were still seeing wet patches ahead of us that the last few days of heavy rain had left and a chilly wind was now drying. As we progressed, words and thoughts vanished, leaving space for real not wanted falls, as well as a succession of precise and precarious moves and gear placements. Eventually, a strongly forbidden Porco Dio! My clearest memories of this ecstatic day will always be the many moments of high focus, the belay views over the beautifully sculpted granite and surrounding alpine environment, the abseils from the summit with a cold purple dusk; the silent walk back to the valley and the warm late evening reception from Simone Pedeferri at Bar de la Monica.