PATAGONIAN CHRONICLES

In December 2024, Mirco Grasso returns to El Chaltén to tackle routes cutting across the most iconic towers in mountaineering. As the weeks pass, his debut with climbing partner Matteo Della Bordella transforms into a succession of adventures and encounters, including one that will lead them to close the circle on a project left incomplete for almost three decades, on the west face of Cerro Piergiorgio.

It’s Christmas Day, it’s 9 p.m., and there’s still a lot of light in the sky. Finally, after a journey lasting dozens of hours, I find myself once again in the magical village of El Chaltén.
There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the Fitz Roy and Cerro Torre ranges are illuminated by the last blazes of the midsummer sky. A sight you never get used to!

It’s been five years since my last expedition in Patagonia. Accessing the mountain range’s mixed rock and ice walls requires long approaches, and a foot injury forced me to reconsider my vertical plans for the following seasons. My recovery has proceeded smoothly over the past two years, and the persuasive powers of my friend the champion Alessandro Baù did the rest. For several months, Ale and I have been planning to open a new route on Fitz Roy: a dream as impossible as it is tempting. So, here I am again.

Yes, climbing these legendary mountains. A playground unlike any other in the world. I’d read about it in the manuals of those who made history in the Andes, and I’d experienced it firsthand during my two previous trips. First and foremost, it’s essential to always have a plan B. Rule No. 1: Physicality goes hand in hand with flexibility. To try to achieve something in these mountains, it’s important to know how to adapt to the weather and balance your goals based on the days — sometimes just hours — you have available.

In the last 20 years, the style of climbing in Patagonia has changed drastically, thanks to the development of El Chaltén (from a modest hamlet to a modest village of a thousand inhabitants) and the tools that make weather forecasts increasingly accurate. Mountaineers of the generation before mine camped near the face they’d decided to target. Barometer in hand, they stayed in their tents waiting for clear skies to make a summit attempt. The room for maneuver was limited.

Today’s mountaineers, in contrast, constantly monitor the forecast, and as soon as they identify a window of good weather, every team prepares its plan of attack. The approach usually precedes the start of the window of good weather. In the afternoon, you camp at the foot of the mountain you intend to climb, and once the climb is complete, you return to town when the weather worsens again. This way, you can make the most of every available hour and be flexible about your goal based on the duration of the good weather. The only unpredictable aspect is the condition of the face you’re attempting to climb. After a few weeks of precipitation, the rock, especially where less exposed to the sun, may be damp and covered in a thin layer of ice in some areas. An unpleasant surprise that can significantly reduce your chances of reaching the summit.

Another unwritten imperative of the game in Argentina is the need to be ready and always motivated. Rule No. 2: The anticipation of pleasure is pleasure itself. Being confined to El Chaltén for weeks on end, unable to climb, can be frustrating — which is why it’s important to learn to manage the waiting. 

My daily recipe for surviving the restlessness that consumes me is to work in the morning, do a quick bouldering or crag session in the afternoon, and share anecdotes, impressions, and dreams with other climbers who are chasing the big prize rather than just beginning.
This brings us to the last point, which in my case is perhaps the most important one. Rule No. 3: Choose your team carefully. The team Matteo Della Bordella and I initially created perfectly balances all the ingredients needed to dream big. Teo is a veteran of these mountains, with 14 expeditions under his belt and as many first ascents or repeats. Although we’d never climbed together, Matteo and I had developed a connection ever since I learned he would be arriving in El Chaltén a few weeks after me. Beyond our approach to the wall, we share a climbing style and the mindset that we apply to tackling these mountains.

So, after having spent the last few days obsessively leafing through the guidebook with all the possible routes and filling our backpacks with gear and clothing, we set off toward the baptism of fire that awaits us.

We choose the Potter-Davis route, which runs perpendicular to the east face of Aguja Poincenot. A beautiful crack climb, it’s now a classic route, despite only having been opened in 2001. After six hours of hiking, we reach Passo Superior and pitch our tents a couple of hours from the face. Everything goes smoothly.

The next day, we attack the route without hesitation. The momentary lull in the wind has brought clouds back to the sky, and the morning sun allows us to enjoy the first moves as we had hoped. Climbing this staggeringly vertical granite, roped up with one of the world’s best climbers, is a double learning experience for me.

After the first pitches, the route becomes more exposed on the sharp ridge facing Fitz Roy. Right at that point, a cold wind picks up from the west, making me wonder if we should stop, but a glance from Matteo is enough to instantly dismiss the idea. Despite our freezing hands, we still manage to advance on the following, fairly challenging pitches, reaching the next-to-last pitch, a 7a. A pitch as fun as it is awe-inspiring: after squeezing through a very narrow passage, we emerge onto a double boulder that we literally have to straddle, given the impossibility of fitting both legs through. These are the kinds of unique formations that you can only find here.

After we reach the final ridge, 50 meters from the small pyramid of the summit, the gusts become unbearable. We decide to rappel down early, still satisfied to have gotten our hands one of the most iconic lines in the Fitz Roy group. Within a few hours, we’re back at headquarters, and we spend the next day recovering from the exertions of our debut as a team.

Once we’ve regained our strength, there’s no time to waste. After sampling the appetizer with Potter-Davis, we’re starting to crave a full meal. Besides, our time for climbing together is running out. In a few weeks, Matteo will lead the new CAI (Club Alpino Italiano) Eagle Team project, aiming to open a new route on Piergiorgio with a group of promising young talents of Italian mountaineering. Fortunately, the weather is on our side: in a few days, another favorable window of a couple of days should open up.