Patagonia 2019/2020



Sunrise on the Patagonia ice cap. Photo: Ripley Boulianne

Last September, after having had the best season of my life climbing in Yosemite, Canmore, the Bugaboos and Squamish, I was sitting at Zephyr cafe trying to come up with a way to maintain this momentum I had created. I could go down to Moab for a month or two of splitters and gobies. Oh yeah, but I don’t have a car so it might end up being a bit tough to try and go get lost in the desert. Okay. I could go back to the Valley, that would definitely be my best option. Though with the 128$ to my name it’s probably not the wisest of decisions. I enjoy dirtbagging but I do also enjoy eating.

Alright, FINE, I’ll go back to Quebec, prove to my parents that I am indeed alive and pull on plastic until the ice starts to form. Plus it’ll probably be pretty nice to not sleep in a tent after 5-6 months. And so I booked a flight to Montreal for the end of October. Which, if it ever stops raining for more than 5 minutes, would give me some time to try and finish my projects here.

As I waited out the rain in my tent my friend, mentor and all around hardman Tamas texted me that he was considering going down to El Chalten in Argentina for six or seven weeks this winter. I mean, I’ve had a picture of Cerro Torre as my phone’s background for two years now, I have to go.

End of the difficulties on Guillaumet. Photo: Tamas Kovacs


Lesson 1. Book the damn flight and the rest will follow (at least, it should)

I’m back in Quebec for a few weeks working 12 hour days in a restaurant as a last hail-mary attempt to afford this trip. I pack my bags and I’m off. I take a bus, then a plane, then another plane and I finally arrive in Buenos Aires after 24 hours. I spend a few days with a friend in the city then I’m off to another plane, then another, then another bus and here it is, El Chalten. I can’t see anything because it’s pouring rain and I have to breathe into my jacket because of the wind. But still, here. It. is.

Approaching in a storm. Photo: Ripley Boulianne


Lesson 2. Be patient (and learn to read a weather forecast).

My first time out climbing in Patagonia was the first time I’ve genuinely been scared in the mountains. My second time was my second outing. The hype is real, and the weather is just as real. We had to lay down at times just to not get swept away. It is quite character building.

Lesson 3. Arrive humble, or be ready to eat 6 portions of humility for breakfast.

Just before the new year the first real weather window appeared on the forecast and, in my eternal wisdom, decided it’d be reasonable to attempt the Care Bear traverse. Which includes Aguja Guillaumet, Aguja Mermoz and finally the north pillar of Cerro Chalten(Fitzroy). You know, two El caps, in boots, with a pack on. Easy, right ?

It all started pretty well, we hike the 8 hours to the base in the night, bivied and then started up the Guillot-Conquegniot (300m, 70˚, M4, 5.9) which we did in two long pitches in about 3h30 ‘shrund to summit. Through that, issues started to show up, we dropped one of our head lamp in the couloir and it was so cold in the shade that rock shoes were completely out of the question.

Rock in boots. Ooooh rock in boots. Photo: Tamas Kovacs


Lesson 4. For the love of Garibotti, learn to climb granite in boots before you go.

Once we got to the summit we took a short break to evaluate our next step and eat something. We quickly realized that the handful of empanadas and Mantecols we had brought up with us were not gonna cut it. We then had a pretty short discussion and decided to go down. In the comfort of my couch I regret not having been tougher in the moment and just accepted to suffer a bit more. But there’s always next time.

Lesson 5. It’s not Pakistan, but it’s not the Bugs either.

The scale in Patagonia is difficult to put into words. Everything’s bigger and more complex than anything I’ve experienced in the past. Even one of the easiest routes of the range took everything I had and demanded more. I’m incredibly grateful for every one that supported me during this trip and for my partner who opened my eyes to what true alpinism is.

In Argentina I was told that everyone (almost everyone, I see you Honnold) must go through this milestone of getting your ass handed to you by the mountains before they can really accomplish anything. That only after living through the wind and the storms, bailing, or even just walking for eight hours only to back away because the snowpack is unstable. Only then can you start progressing. And that, well, that takes time.

Lesson 6. Book the next flight.


Tamas crushing the summit slope of Guillaumet. Photo: Ripley Boulianne

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Patagonia 2023

Image
The Power of Independent Trucking and other thoughts   Here is a copy-paste of the trip report of Mateo Esposito and I's climbing season in El Chalten. I'll be hopefully writing something a bit more personal for the Canadian Alpine Journal, but for now here is that !     In January 2023, Mateo Esposito and I met in El Chalten, Argentina to try and establish new routes somewhere on the Chalten massif. We had multiple objectives and came ready with everything from winter climbing gear to aid climbing equipment. Our main, and biggest objective was a new route on the North face of Aguja Poincenot where we knew we would likely find splitter crack systems and clean, steep climbing. I arrived in Chalten on January 11th, a short weather window was forecasted and quickly I repacked my bags to go into the mountains. The next day saw us rushing toward Paso Superior with our sights on a potential new route on the East face of Aguja Mermoz. Unfortunately I felt terribly sick and was ...
Read more

Lucky dogs on the North Pillar of Mount Macdonald

Image
  My summer did not go to plan, or at least to the loose plan I imposed on myself last spring. I arrived in Squamish in the middle of June in the midst of a breakup. I had saved up some money to hopefully spend a month before going to the Bugs come August. In an oh-so familiar way I managed to completely burn through my savings and had to reassess, and get a job. My friend was Boris visiting for two months and with their great enthusiasm convinced me to go get on something big, initially something in the Bugs or perhaps WA pass. We passed around ideas for a couple weeks, I wanted to do a new route, Boris wanted to climb a hard classic. Half asleep I remembered a conversation I had with my friend Vincent last year in East creek. He had said “It’s just as hard as Watchtower! Have you not seen the photos? It looks insane.” That’s it then, that big fucking hunk of rock you drive by in Rogers pass. It’s north facing, and has probably been climbed only a handful of times. I spent the m...
Read more

Rockies ass kicking

Image
I grew up in a part of the country without mountains, in fact it was 6 years ago this month that I saw mountains for the first time. I was visiting because my partner’s mom had just turned 60 and we had rented a house in Canmore to celebrate. I still remember the car ride: rolling over the last hill and finally getting my first sight of the rocky mountains. I went completely silent. To this day I can still feel the afterglow of that first drive past Yamnuska, the Sisters and Ha Ling on an early December day. I still remember thinking, wondering, wishing I could go up there. It felt like looking at a different planet. Jed and I freezing our asses off, this was my first ever mountain outing. My first attempt at mountaineering here was actually on that first visit, I got so excited by the mountains that I somehow convinced my partner to try and hike up Middle Sister in Canmore. In December. Without any proper gear. Yeah. We managed to get enough equipment and hubris together to come up w...
Read more