Michael, Carlos, and I drove out to the Dolomites in Italy on Friday evening arriving at Sella Pass around 10:30pm. We searched for about 10-15 minutes for a place to sleep (much tougher than in the US…and the worse was yet to come) and eventually settled on a small parking lot above a refugio with the dark silhouette of the Sassalungo above us.

(above) Fuenffingerspitzen (center) in morning light. It’s hard to tell the scale from here, isn’t it?

We awoke early the following morning and set out around 6:30 for the refugio at the base of the 18 pitch climb. It would have been nice to take a lift, but we wanted to be on the route before most other and opted to make the hour or so approach. We were the first to begin the climb. Two other parties were close behind but they turned right at the refugio instead of left; they were intent on climbing the Sassalungo, it seemed. The first pitches to gain the ridge were easy, then the real fun began. On the ridge proer, after a short pitch or two, the climbing became classic Dolomite – very steep but with plentiful and solid holds. I hadn’t climbed in nearly ten months and felt a little unsettled. The protection was too sparse for me, so I opted to bring up the rear. Carlos climbed about fifteen feet above me. We had a similar arrangement on Slesse, with me climbing about 15 feet above Aidan whenever I wasn’t leading. Being in the last position was certainly more challenging because the last climber has to set his pace to the climber above him. Eventually, I warmed up and felt comfortable on the climb.

(above) Steep Dolomite climbing on the arete

(above) Carlos is enjoying it.

The first section of the climb, the detached “thumb” towers was the most thrilling. Almost always very steep, but with good holds for hands and feet. There was one tricky move that, in reality, wasn’t hard at all. The key, as usual, was just small and deliberate foot movements. At the summit of the thumb, while trying to find the descent, we got a little off route and were passed by two parties. A jam was developing at the rappels, but we moved efficiently and dropped into the col.

(above) A very fast guided party is behind us.

The second part of the climb began ascending a vertical wall on the index finger for two pitches before traversing left across the face along an ascending ramp. At the same time, on the tower we just came from, two Italian climbers had started to pull their rappel rope when, after the critical end of the rope was out of reach, they realized they had left a knot in the rope! A terrible mistake made very serious since they still had one more rappel. To my shock, the man, who was at least in his 50′s began soloing up the rock to retrieve the rope. He was on tough terrain and had to use a cam to aid his way up the wall. After some tense moments and heavy, nervous panting, he made it…but what a risk! The best would have been to wait for another party to descend, but I suppose there were no more. Watching that ordeal helped to cement the lesson into our heads – always check the rappel rope for knots before pulling it!

(above) The Italians trying to retrieve the rope. The free climber is in the upper left. Look closely and you can see the knotted rope dangling on the right.

The rest of the climb has become a bit of a haze for me. After the traverse, we crossed the face on easy terrain (passing a couple of Italian parties along the way) and then upwards towards the niche between the middle and index finger towers. At the niche was a large chockstone wedged above the niche which we had to climb through and then turn left and up the middle finger for one or two pitches to the summit where we ate and took pictures…the usual summit stuff.

(above) Here’s what the first pitch on the index finger looks like, Carlos on the index finger’s ramp which will take you to a traverse across the face.

The descent was a pain. The rappels are very awkward. On at least three, we had to push ourselves in different directions in order to arrive at the proper descent platform. On one rappel, over a very exposed cliff, we had to push at least 15 feet against the direction of the rappel to land on the platform. I pushed at one point but my loose pack got caught or something and I ended up spinning and slipping a bit. I had to call out for my partners to grab the rope and pull me back. It was unnerving and I was now not having a good time on the climb.

(above) Carlos on one of the awkward rappels. He’s traversing the cliff on rappel to get to the right platform on a “fireman’s belay” (where someone below is holding the ends of the rope. Note the chockstone out in no-man’s-land. It’s a long way down out at that point.

We still had a good bit of downclimbing remaining. We had to finish traversing the final fingers. The downclimbing was slow and tedious. Finally, we were above the final rappel leading into the snow gully which would eventually lead us back to the main trail. Again we ran into a common difficulty: we couldn’t tell how far the rappel was and it was apparent that the beta wasn’t accurate. So, we pulled out the 7mm line and took one long double rope rappel to land in the niche. Everyone was nervous on this rappel (it appeared to be awkward and overhanging), but in reality, it was straightforward. Back on “solid ground” again, we prepared to downclimb the snow. It was fairly steep and we were without ice axe or crampons, but they weren’t needed. There were already good steps kicked into the snow and we each picked out a long rock that sort of functioned as an ice axe. Eventually, the angle lessened for comfortable plunge stepping and walking. We then skidded down on scree back under the Fuenffingerspitzen to regain the hiking trail which we followed back to the car. It was about 8:30 pm and now the task before us was finding a place to eat and then sleep.

(above) I managed to take a hero shot of Michael.

Carlos and I, on Michael’s advice, planned to take the train from Munich to a place called Garmish-P to climb the Alpspitze via a “via ferrata” (a climbing route whch has been converted to a safer route by safety cables and climbing aids like steel ladders). We planned to take the 7:30 AM train, but discovered that unless we waited until 9:30, the prices would be more than double. So we waited. We found a comfortable bagel store (expensive, of course…I was still thinking in terms of China prices). The trip took about an hour and a half, running along lovely green pastures to the base of the mountains. We departed the train and prepared for the ostensible twenty minute hike through town to the cable car. Twenty minutes…it ended up taking over an hour. Already we were set up for a late return. We even had to wait at the cable care station for fifteen minutes (we thought it was one hour and fifteen minutes because the operator had set the “next departure” incorrectly).

(above) The Alpspitze, up close n’ personal.

At the top was the ubiquitous European comfortable lodge, aka “hut” or “refugio”. We readied our harnesses and helmets and headed up the Alpspitze, which was immediately above us. It turned out that we didn’t even need harnesses. It’s quite easy; we didn’t even clip once. The route is simple and took us, oh, I don’t know, around an hour and half.

(l-r) Me approaching the first via ferrata, Carlos on a ladder, Birds looking for handouts

We decided to add a little spice by descending down the back side – a long ridge leading to a headwall. We then dropped down the right side. Flashback to when we were on the summit…a wisp of cloud began forming below us, growing larger quickly. Other clouds appeared around us too. By the time we dropped down the right side, the valley was engulfed in clouds. The left side was still clear. We descended into the pea soup and followed the well-marked route. We traversed cliffs, downclimbed cliffs and ledges covered in scree, sometimes aided by a via ferrata. We dropped much farther than the initial ascent of the peak and popped through the cloud ceiling. We followed a moraine to green meadows where we picked up the rail leading into the valley. Overhead, above the Zugspitze, the clouds were almost black and we expected the cloudburst at any moment. It didn’t come…until we approached the gorge.

(l-r) Gotta drop into the clouds, homes. Carlos on a via ferrata cliffside traverse.

The gorge was the highlight of the trip and the heavy rain enhanced the atmosphere. My jacket felt cold and clammy as we approached the first of many tunnels. The discomfort was negated by the terrain – a very narrow gorge, maybe only 30-40 feet in places with a raging creek below. The rain had created some extra waterfalls, which we had to pass under. Carlos was a fan of the caves and he opted to take the underground route, whereas I preferred to stay outside passing along the cliffside trail above the churning creek. The gorge soon narrowed to a point where there was only space for a tunnel in places. I bashed my head twice before I put on my helmet again.

(above) Shots from the gorge. See the tunnels?

The gorge took us about thirty minutes to traverse. I remember it being longer than I expected. We arrived at a gate which required us to pay three Euro each to unlock the gate (it was tempting to just climb underneath the gate house). After that, we continued down in the rain and marched the remaining miles to the town of Hammersbach. The rain had then stopped and we were looking at another one-plus hours to hike back to the train station…we were set to arrive back in Munich around midnight now. A friendly couple in a car took pity on us and drove us back. A quick meal at the train station Burger King (no lie!) saw us human again and we boarded the 9:30 train for an arrival in Munich at 11pm.

(above) A view of the surroundings. The Zugspitze is the large peak in the distance. We descended the ridge trending from the foreground to the left and then dropped over the right side into the valley.