Perù Siula Grande

Taking part in an expedition organized by the SMAM (Sezione Militare di Alta Montagna) of the Italian Army, was for me like to be called to play in the Italian National football team.
In more than two decades of mountaineering I had always followed my instinct, chasing my dreams on the most beautiful mountains of the world. For the first time I was called to fulfill not only a personal dream, but rather a higher, more important target, such as opening a prestigious, cutting edge, new route, that would be the “cherry on top” to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the Italian Alpine troops.
For once I could not define myself as a conqueror of the useless, since there was a whole organization with a 150 long history, believing and supporting our team.

On June 20th I left for Perù with my teammates: Alessandro Zeni “Ale”, Marco Majori “Majo”, Filip Babicz and Stefano Cordaro. We had high hopes of opening a new hard line in the middle of the hitherto unclimbed “shield” of the East face of Siula Grande (6344m).
Siula Grande, is located in the middle of the beautiful and wild Cordillera Huayhuash of Perù. Despite travelling to Perù generally recalles some touristic and exotic feeling, these mountains are the exact opposite: wild, remote and cold. I think this is probably the only place in the world where you have sheer and compact limestone walls (that seem to be stolen from Ratikon or Wendenstocke) at high altitude in a really complex environment.

But things did not go as smooth as we hoped. About a week after our departure from Italy, we reached our beautiful base camp, located on the side of Laguna Siula, at 4300 meters. There, Filip Babicz started to feel sick, and his conditions got worse and worse. He had to return to Lima and eventually back to Italy. Stefano, Ale, Majo and I, spent about a week acclimatizing and ferrying loads to the base of the wall. During a misty and freezy day we started even opening the first 100 meters (3 pitches) and despite very low temperatures we noticed frequent rock falls that were threatening the next section of the line we had planned to open.
We returned to the wall a few days later, when the fogs had left for clear skies and thin crisp air: the famous Peru’s July high pressure was there. However, this was not good news for us, since the rock falls, were much more frequent than before and already being at our camp, below and far away from the wall, we felt somehow in danger.
After a brief discussion we all agreed that no one of us was willing to take the risk of being hit by one of these stones. It’s not always easy to renounce without trying, but in this case, it was for sure the wisest decision to take. We all know that one single rock is enough for not having a second chance.
It's even harder, when the main goal vanishes, not to lose yourself and give up everything. But in this case our will to climb Siula Grande was too strong, and we had to find an alternative solution!

Majo came out with an idea “what if we go down this glacier, jump out onto the left pillar and then climb its arete?”
I knew the left pillar was beautiful and spotted one of the finest limestones a climber could image. It was climbed for the first time by the fellow French alpinists Max Bonniot and Didier Jourdain in 2016 (members of French Groupe Militaire de Haute Montagne) and for sure there was room for many new lines.
Majo and I checked if it was possible to access the pillar directly from the glacier, without having to bring back all the gear to base camp and once we figured out the way, we descended back to base camp and took some rest before starting our final push.
We decided to climb alpine style, carrying gear and food for about 5-6 days. Ale and Stefano were not sure, until the very end, whether to come with us or not. Eventually they opted for not coming on the wall and helping us with the logistics and carrying down all the loads. I have big respect for their brave and humble decision, since they put aside personal ambitions, to increase the possibility of success of Majo and I, and of course of the whole team.

On July 20th we leave base camp and hike up, once again the long talus field, that soon transforms into easy 4th class scrambling terrain and leads to the first hanging glacier. Route finding here is already trick and the terrain is very exposed, but the climb has yet to begin. After a 70 meters rappel into the main glacier and a hazardous, but quick, crossing under perilous seracs, we reach the beginning of the pillar at about 5100 meters.
Here the real climbing kicks off with some easy, but tricky terrain up poorly featured smooth slabs, made of really compact limestone. Majo takes the lead and I follow carrying the heavy haul-bag. At some point I can’t see nor hear him anymore. The rope stops for a long time, until I decide to clip my jumar on one of the half ropes and start pulling. Only after nearly 60 meters of jumaring, when I come close to Majo, I find out that he was not able to place any single piece of gear in the compact slabs and he was holding himself on two holds, standing on a little ledge. Basically, he was holding my weight (plus the haul bag), directly on himself!
“Nice belay man! Perfectly equalized!” I told him ironically, before he moves on and managed to place a peg.
In late afternoon we safely reach a good bivy ledge and set up our tent. The temperature at night drops to -20 degrees Celsius and the next day, despite a bright sun, a constant annoying wind makes climbing spicy. It’s my turn to lead but due to low temperatures and many layers of clothes, my progression is steady, but slow. After a failed attempt, we manage to open and fix 3 pitches, before retreating into our tent, as soon as the sun leaves the wall.
On the night the wind stops and the following day (3rd of climbing) we can make good use of the perfect conditions and race up the pillar one pitch after the other. The climbing itself is amazing, perfect compact limestone, hard to protect, which makes up for a psychological and technical climb on relatively moderate difficulties. By the late afternoon we reach the top of the rocky pillar, here we leave one of our half ropes fixed in order to ease the way back and descend to a small col located at about 5650 meters.
Despite a little tiredness, the most exhausting part had yet to come. We leave all the bivy gear behind and commit for a summit push, trying to climb as fast and light as we can. Looking back to my previous expeditions, I can hardly remember another time I did such a physical effort: the inconsistent deep snow attached on the steep slopes made our progression really exhausting. The terrain was easy from the technical point of view, but we had always to keep maximum concentration, since no mistakes were allowed.
After digging into the powder snow and onto the bottom of our energies and supporting each other in perfect synergy, Majo and I could reach to summit of Siula Grande at about 1pm of the 23rd July.
For both of us it was a giant satisfaction, we felt like we could bring up there to the summit all our friends and colleagues which believed in our project. We dedicated the ascent and new route (which shares the final part with the French route) to the Italian Alpine troops and to their value.
The fatigue of the climb did not leave room to big shenanigans, also because we were quite worried for the descent. After a long and tricky sections of downclimbing and some rappels on bubbles of ice, we could reach back the tent the same evening at dark and eventually we could reach the base camp by the evening of day 5. Stefano and Ale had already carried down all the gear, they were waiting for us at the lake with cokes and freshly fished trouts, what a great way to finish this big adventure!