In August I was in Val Masino on a climbing trip. Val Masino is a beautiful area in the North of Italy. Hiking through the Val di Mello is one of the most incredible valleys I have walked though, crystal clear lakes, vast granite towers backed by the high alpine mountains.
I joined Si and James a week after they had arrived in Italy and for a few days we hid from the rain and stuck to sport climbing and bouldering in the surround area.
On the Wednesday, Si had to head home and would leave James and I in Italy. We were dropped off at Bergamo Airport where we hired a car for 10 days. It was not until we were passing Lago di Como on route back to San Martino did James say “mate… we left the tent in Si’s car.” For the next 10 days we bivvied in caves and under boulders.
James and I were psyched to climb our first granite big wall but being without a guidebook, we did not know what, or where to start. The obvious answer was to go to the Kundaluna for a pint. After a few beers we turned our sights from the bar to the ‘legendary’ San Martino bookshop. In the day it is a book and giftshop but in the evening, the local’s hangout in back playing bar games, drinking, and chain-smoking cigarettes. After finishing our beers we headed across to join in with the recreational activities. Whilst doing this, we picked up a guidebook for the area, which was unfortunately in German (there was not an English version available), and started to subtly flick through the pages. We did not want to pay for the book or upset the owner who would not be impressed at us using it for free.
Val di Mellow is full of world class climbs, many of which are way above our pay grade. As we surreptitiously flicked through the guide, we found what we were looking for. L’albero delle Pere, a 6/7 pitch VI+.
By this point we were mildly inebriated, so I am sure what we thought was the conspicuous action of taking a photo was bloody obvious. Nonetheless, we had a topo and a plan. We then continued our evening in the bookshop, playing games and drinking.
Waking the following morning in a cave with sore heads, I ran back to the car to get the coffee on, and we Googled our proposed route. We found a picture from MountainPlanet.com which had a line drawn on a photo of the route and had a description of the approach, translated via Google. By late morning, after prepping sandwiches and buying a couple Redbull’s, we were ready.
The approach notes instructed us to walk up the Val Di Mello footpath, past the Refugio to the “obvious structure” … Now, I am no expert in languages, but what on earth is an “obvious structure”. We passed the Refugio and continued towards the highly anticipated ‘obvious structure’. This we could not find.
We marched around growing steadily more frustrated by the vague instructions until eventually we saw Dimore degli Dei which is home to L’albero Delle Pere. It was at this point that we realised; the obvious structure must refer to the enormous, towering granite “structure” of Dimore degli Dei that erupts out of the green valley pastures.
Satisfied that we had found the correct crag, we crossed the farmland and into the woods where a thin footpath leads steadily upwards towards the base of the granite monolith.
Our translated guide stated that the route starts to the right of a mossy block. In the woods surrounding the start of the route, there were a countless number of mossy blocks so doing what humans do in these circumstances, we made what we saw fit the descriptions . This culminated in us being convinced that the starting pitch, which was only 4b, was the large slab in front of us.
We racked up and the adventure began. In the wrong place. James quested up the slab placing some early protection in the only available cracks. As he climbed, it became apparent that this slabby piece of rock was not well climbed, if at all. Inching ever higher, increasing the distance from the protection until in a position that a ground fall was the only outcome of a slip, James reached the line of trees.
My heart in my mouth as I watched, transfixed by the scene in front of me. James started pulling on twigs and dead branches to check their strength. Deciding that there was nothing else between him and the ground, he started wrapping slings around the largest collection of branches that he could reach. After a few more minutes James had passed the tree barrier, up the final section of the slab and was now safely on top. It was my turn to follow.
Thankfully with a rope above me, I delicately climbed the slab. Feeling distinctly like a gecko, I padded up with no edges to hold. Just beneath the tree line was a slight shelf, I gratefully placed my hands on this but immediately recoiled as pine needles pierced my skin making then look like pink porcupines. This was not a fun pitch. After extracting several pine splinters, then the slings, I climbed up to the top.
At the now high point, I could see a mossy block on my left, a small boulder-esk problem with a distinct chalk print followed by a chimney.
We were at the real start of L’albero delle Pere. To the side was a thin footpath which must have followed around the slab to the left to reach the start of the route. After selection of choice swearwords at our stupidity we were ready to begin the route.
The actual first pitch, IV+, starts with a small boulder problem. I stepped up on the rock, placing gear in the crack before levering myself onto the sloped granite to the right of the crack. Delicately balancing onto the slab, I then continued up on broken blocky ground to the corner. This felt like a natural break point in the route, so I belayed James up to my position.
To the right of tree, I used as an anchor is a twin pair of cracks which rise for 10 metres. After surmounting this initial difficulty, a chimney is climbed before exiting onto a sloping granite shelf to the belay. Our excitement bursting at the seams, James wiggled up the twin cracks in no time. Apparently delighted to be on route, I could hear “whoops” coming down as he surged up the pitch. In what felt like no time at all, I was climbing again.
I am not a hugely experience granite climber but what a delight. Foot placements felt so secure and even the slopes have more grip than the local polished limestone in the Bristol area. I climbed the twin cracks and entered the chimney. A bit of back bridging leads to a slightly awkward move onto the sloping ledge. Wearing a rucksack at the time, I ended up in a constricted position unable to move as the bag was stuck. I managed to remove the bag and attached it to my harness so I could keep climbing. Big smiles all round as I reached James on the ledge.
As I was leading the next pitch, we swapped bags so that I had the smaller of the 2. The 3rd pitch is the crux pitch (even though the 4th contains the crux move) with a grade of VI, approximately E1 in UK Grade. The pitch starts by climbing into a chimney. The constricting chimney is exited on the right and a curving crack is followed before exiting onto a large slab. At the top of the slab under the jumble of blocks there are 3 pitons for the anchor.
I entered the chimney, thrusting as much of my body inside the constriction as I could to reach the crack in the back. Wriggling upwards I progressed to the highest point of the chimney. My technique on this style of climbing leaves room for improvements and from the effort of thrutching upwards, I was feeling quite sick. Maybe it was the beer. I reached to the back of the chimney and placed the highest piece of protection I could before attempting to exit the chimney onto the slab with the rising crack. This move felt wildly precarious and exhilarating. I reached from the chimney, half my body wedged inside, and grasped for something to purchase on the slab. Pushing my right foot onto the granite, with nothing of any substance to grab with my right hand, I pushed out of the chimney and balanced onto the slab. Exiting the chimney, the exposure hit me like a train, suddenly I was hundreds of metres above the valley floor. I could see the tops of trees that when in the valley, had towered above me, and tiny ant like specs that were people walking far below.
As delicately as I could I reached up with my left hand and grasped the thin curved crack. Using this to put pressure on my feet I moved up the steep slab. Very conscious that I was far above my last protection, I was hugely grateful to find a piton with a thread which I clipped my ropes to before exiting the crack and climbing onto the much kinder angled slab to the pitons.
James now on belay climbed up to my high point. As he arrived, he was impressed with the technicality of the pitch and grateful he had seen me attach a rucksack to my harness on the previous pitch. There was no way he would have made it through the chimney with the larger rucksack on his back.
The next pitch has the hardest moves even though it is not the ‘crux pitch’. The start pulls steeply through the jumble of overhanging blocks. The pitch is graded as VI+ but with the large number of pitons in the difficult section, it can be aid climbed at A0. James stepped into the mass of blocks and deftly pulled through the powerful moves. In no time at all he had built an anchor around a tree above. Looking at the mass of ropes coiled on my lap, I was convinced he had not finished the pitch but no point questioning him at this point, so once the slack had been taken, I pulled apart the anchor and got climbing. As I started up the initial block, James shouted down “are you climbing?”.
“Yes” I replied.
“Can you climb faster, my anchor is on an ant nest.”
I then continued to climb with no style or panache and thugged my way through the steep blocks trying not to laugh as a distressed shout came down, “I have got actual ANTS IN MY PANTS!!” With heavy arms I arrived at the tree where James was hopping around trying to detach ants from his privates. I took a few items from him and ran up the grassy slope to the back wall. Placing a good cam, I climbed up the 10-meter slanted corner crack. A pleasant sequence of moves with solid foot placements and hand holds. After the crack I quickly slung a tree, pulled the slack, and belayed a very grateful James.
Having a good laugh at James expenses we changed over gear and James began up the final section of the climb. The final section is approximately 75 meters long and split into roughly into 2 pitches. We were not clear of the direction, so James climbed above the tree I had used as the anchor andcontinued slowly zig zagging his way up the hidden slab above. After some time, I was conscious that there was not much rope left so shouted “5 meters” up at the obscured climbing partner above. Obviously realising he did not have much rope left, he down climbed to a belay position.
James had climbed up a grassy crack to a tree (of sorts) and then began climbing onwards before back tracking to the tree to belay from. I climbed with relative ease up to James’s position and we started handing over gear. Looking above at the continuous slab, it did not seem like I would need much gear. There was a curious metal cable hanging down from the right, but we chose to ignore this as:
- Using it would be aid climbing. We are not aid climbers.
- What is it attached to at the top?
I started gecko-ing my way up the slab. Friction created by the rubber on my shoes and my palms. I placed a 0.4 friend in a small crack early on and then continued to leave the protection far behind. Slowly moving up, I slung a tree and then continued gecko-ing leftwards towards what looked like a ledge. Arriving at the sloping ‘ledge’, which was a less downturned section of slab rather than a ledge, I thought the route ahead looked difficult. With approximately 20 meters since the last protection, I looked around searching for an easier path. Right from my ‘ledge’ was another tree and there looked to be a good route to access it. Like a crab a long way out of the sea, I scuttled sideways. I chucked sling around this and then blasted to the top of the slab and the tree line above me. As I reached the trees I heard from far below, “a couple meters left”. I had just enough rope available to be able to reach a tree and chuck a final sling around it to make myself safe to belay James.
Without the pressure of the 20-meter run out, James enjoyed the climbing up the final slab and before long we were at the top of L’albero delle Pere.
We sat and marvelled at our achievement which was concocted over beers in a bookshop the night before. We drank a Redbull and set off towards the valley a long way below, walking and running all the way to San Martino, with a quick swim in the river on route, and straight into Kundaluna’s for a cold pint.
Good stories are never conventional.
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