Between giants and dwarfs: a climbing trip in the Dolomites

Quickly get a new gearbox delivered from Poland, replaced the broken one and the following night at sunrise in the 'Dolos' - stress test Passo di Falzarego.

The name becomes appropriate for the next day: Pleasure climbing in the Comici at the small Falzarego Tower, then over to the more famous Cinque Torri.

• Get up early so that you don't stand in line on popular routes
• Always keep an eye on the weather and the possibility of retreat in mind
• First subtract a few degrees of climbing from the actual ability, then you can have fun here and not just be afraid
• This is mostly trad climbing (self-securing with mobile belay devices) - so it's better to put one belay too many than none at all, you never know when you'll get the next opportunity.

The Dolomites are grippy and compact, they said. But tens of thousands of ascents make this great rock crooked and become more like glass, not exactly optimal for a safe and confident climb. We increase the length and difficulty with the next route, get up early, pack systematically and check the weather.

Over the first greasy pitch, it suddenly feels even greasier. What's the reason for that? Because of the humidity. The first drops patter down on us and quickly get stronger. Actually, we should still have 5 hours until the storm! Retreat... under a ledge we wait for the next window. 

Back to the rock

But then the sky opens up again! We test the rock, it doesn't seem to have taken much of a beating. We look at each other, then up and shortly we climb back into our harnesses. At least for the next 4 pitches, another retreat would be quite possible in case of emergency. So off we go again, we decide who's going to start and I start the first pitch as the winner. My partner follows and nimbly but surely we shoot our ropes upwards. Carefully testing the rock, a belay here and there, in the climbing flow. At the belaystation a look up: the weather holds, a look down, my partner climbing with a grin on his face. A look behind: Paradise!

It's going so well again and suddenly we're already at the traverse. Hop or top? The sky looks forgiving and there are only 4 more easy pitches. Also temporally the rain radar is on our side. This should go well. Unfortunately, what we didn't see was the yellow wall that slowly but surely pushes over our Cinque Torri, which we try to scramble up like two little dots in the wall....

Last pitch. Here comes the wind and as quickly as this my climbing partner joins me at the belaystation, just as the first thick drops fall. No words are necessary. Pick up ropes in the record, connect, check and check again, rope throw, prusik, tuber, rappel. My partner starts, I follow. The thick drops freeze and turn to sleet. Same procedure again at the next belay.

A dramatic last rappel

Two 55-meter ropes were needed, the route description had said. Ours were 50 meters, but we had been assured that was enough. Probably the most spectacular rappel follows: 55 meters of free-hanging to the ground. There is lightning and thunder, it storms and fear grows, which until now was simply not allowed to take hold. I rope down and reach the ground with the last centimeters of the rope. Thank you rope stretch! Exhausted, soaked and frozen, we seek shelter under a ledge.

We made it. With a hot bacon dumpling soup we warm up in the crowded Rifugio Cinque Torri, where many soaked hikers and climbers seek shelter. So that's it, away from the bad weather. Even our old Ford doesn't like the cold and humidity and starts only after a few engine revolutions and a thick smoke cloud! Determined we chug towards the next adventure: Up into the sun, up to the Drei Zinnen (Three Peaks)!

Early we set off for the small pinnacle, sharing the first kilometers with the hikers, armed with cameras weighing kilos. We overtake quickly and determinedly, so as not to get into time trouble. Today we want to do everything right! At least the weather is no longer the danger, only the difficulty of the route and the darkness. But for that reason, we are up super early!

From a distance we spot a rope team on the route. No wait, these are not two climbers, but three. Well, never mind, we have time. We climb over the dome and are almost at the entrance when 3 more waiting roped parties appear behind a boulder on route. When did they all get up?!

We line up, queue up, have breakfast for the second time and have nice conversations with the other waiting fellow sufferers, as it turns out, neighbors from home! After an hour, we join the rope team highway and hope for a route with compact rock, so that nothing crumbles on our heads due to the lead climbers. A wonderful route! Challenging, panoramic, adventurous where it may be, well secured where it must be. But the three-rope team at the very front has a good fight and uses the spectacular traverse in the route for an extensive photo break...

Twilight at the summit

The rope team in front of us asks for the third time whether we should rather break off. Slowly I become nervous. We had planned 7 hours with a lot of buffer. But it's already 5:00 p.m. and we still have 5 pitches (and the descent!) ahead of us.

In the twilight we finally arrive at the top, the atmosphere is electric, the feeling to have made it to the top, overwhelming! On the descent, great concentration is once again required. Headlamps on, crossed on the running rope and rappel set up. We join up with the rope team after us to be faster and more efficient. 

After an extensive rest day and a circumnavigation of the "Zinnen" (nice to see for once, with delicious Kaspressknödel soup in the Langalm, where yesterday we were still sweating on the wall) we set off for our last big stop of the trip: the legendary Rosengarten!

The climb to the Paul Preuß Hut alone is worth every meter. King Laurin has maintained his garden well and invites the hikers to marvel! Right past the Rosengartenspitze in the final steep switchbacks to the overnight campsite. Sleep like in heaven, on a rocky ledge, so high, surrounded by the mysticism of the legend: the beautiful Paul-Preuß Hut (once built, by the way, by the legendary mountaineer Tita Piaz).

20 pitches, classic from 1929 (which in climbing is usually inevitably associated with adventure and courage) and first climbed by Hans Steger with Paula Wiesinger, a clear line that leads up to almost 3000 meters. When I heard that at that time a woman threw herself into this daring adventure, it was an even greater honor for me to be to follow the route.

But first it's time to get used to climbing in this new terrain: Delago edge at the Vajolett towers, Torre Piaz, all the beauties are tempting.

And then it's time, the evening before the big day. The weather should remain stable. We study the route in detail over a delicious dinner in the hut, read field reports and feel excitement, anxiety and anticipation combined! 

We had had enough days to practice and learn, so this time we set off really early in the dark for the longest route I have ever climbed. 20 pitches, 600 climbing meters, completely trad, an old piton here and there. Stands are mostly set up. After an hour of approach and a look at the route, a rejoicing three-rope team awaits us again just at the end of the first pitch. Shortly swallowing the frustration. Atleast the route ahead is well lit: so you can at least see where it leads. 

The first pitch goes quickly and nothing stops us from accelerating now and rocking through the most difficult part. Suddenly we hear a scream above us, stones fall and a climber dangles perplexed in the rope. Not many meters separate us and we see the fear in his face. The handle had broken off and so he is dangling on an old rusty piton from the last century. It seems to be stable, contrary to its age, and so the native of Trentino first catches his breath and asks me to pull past and lead the rope team. Super!

I am in the flow after the 14th pitch. I hide in the lead and suddenly I am stuck. 10 meters nothing more laid. Up to here it was easy, what should follow looks very hard. Actually too hard to continue and the risk of a 20-meter fall. What now?

There is no forward and no back in my mind, but running forward is the only way out! One foot over the other, eyes open, test, grab, be determined but mindful and above all breathe and regulate the pulse, suppress the fear, no room for it! I quickly put the most ridiculous intermediate belay around a little-finger-thick hourglass and slowly traverse towards the original route. A few more meters, I think it's getting better, slowly continue.... another grip and I see the redeeming flash of the rusty belay ring, hook in, belay, stand!

The tension falls and with it the first tears. Take a deep breath. That's easy to say in the middle of the wall, where there's no turning back and only one direction: another 200 meters up.

So I set off on one of the hardest 3 pitches with the shock in my bones, careful but determined, and mastered it fortunately without incident to the next belay. And on it goes, followed by the South Tyrolean, higher, always higher. Each pitch requires a lot of concentration, caution, attentiveness and courage and at the same time offers sometimes more, sometimes less enjoyment. The South Tyroleans, whom we meet again and again at the stands, seem rather disappointed by the route and grumble here and there. Nevertheless, it feels good not to hang on the wall alone, while you have several hundred meters of air below you and secure your partner further up.

The last seriously difficult pitch before the route should lead to 3 scramble lengths that could be mastered on the running rope. Stand on self-laid friends to support the two rusty pitons in this damp, musty-smelling microcosm. My right foot on a small ledge, my left on a slight edge on the rock, several hundred feet of air below me. So I belay my partner across the damp mossy crux and am so glad that he doesn't fall into what for me is a worrisome stance.

At the top he calls out, "Hey Isi, there's light at the end of the tunnel! Let's go!" I'm almost annoyed by this saying and push myself with full force over the slippery moss, get stuck, spread out and mobilize again the last forces to finally... literally reach the light at the end of this tunnel! 

Sun and the Rosengarten in its full beauty, as if we had climbed to heaven. I sink down at the belaystation and need a quarter of an hour until I can finally let all the tension of the previous climb fall away and am now I am happy! After the last three pitches we reach the Rosengartenspitze! We really are in heaven...

After 2, 5 hours of rappelling, descending and descending, we arrive at the hut, exhausted but happy. Rarely have I felt so overwhelmed and alive as on this day.

This journey was not long and not far, but so meaningful and so intense. It has taught me awe and courage at the same time, has shown and pushed boundaries. I am glad we were able to learn from the mistakes we made and I can't wait for the next adventure! A great appreciation to the true heroes of history, the first climbers who saw and opened up the beautiful lines at that time with their strength, courage and skill and certainly with some craziness!