A weird morning and three plans on the table
The second (unplanned) morning at Tucarroya shelter woke up looking worse than the first. Monte Perdido had put on a cap of clouds, which did not exactly promise a great day. Still, we stayed optimistic and patient, and agreed that until we had checked the weather forecast, we would not make a decision between the following options:
- Climb Monte Perdido via the Escupidera and descend to sleep at Góriz (the ideal plan)
- Skip Monte Perdido and descend to Góriz
- Descend to Pineta shelter and get a taxi back to the starting point
After a solid breakfast of Chocapics™ and other highly scientific mountain foods, we said goodbye to our den for the second night in a row, hoping it would be the last time. Once again we set up a rappel (this time 60 metres) to avoid the infernal descent of stones, death and destruction, and put our crampons on. Joshua had gone a bit ahead to reach a spot with signal so he could check the weather forecast, and he updated us over the walkie-talkies. The news was promising: the day looked weird, yes, but it was supposed to clear later, and the following day looked sunny around the Ordesa valley. That settled it: we would try to climb Perdido and descend to Góriz.
Looking for the right passage towards the Collado del Cilindro
First things first, as always: we had to find a water source and stock up. The Ibón de Marboré had even more bare patches showing, which told us that crossing it was, once again, not the best idea. After going around it, we found another water source very similar to the ones from the previous days. Once we had a healthy amount of water on our backs, the search began for the best route to reach the Collado del Cilindro. We had a track, but of course, with snow everything changes quite a lot. We could make out a series of possible passages, and we knew for sure that one of them was the right one, but we would not know which until we were less than 20 metres away and could see the state of the rock and snow.
The clouds still were not clearing, and after a few zigzags here and there, we found what would be our passage, after ruling out a couple of gullies that looked tempting but were not the best option with the weight we were carrying. We stood at the foot of a climb, and Diego’s eagle eye spotted a red mark with a climbing anchor higher up: that was the right way. This time, even though we had different ideas about how to climb it, communication was clear and firm. We would go up roped together, as safely as possible. I was the one slightly out of line because I am very stubborn, I admit it. Well, the truth is, all four of us are. But I told myself we had already gone through enough misery the day before without giving ourselves more chances to add extra misery. Besides, we had to justify all the money we had spent on gear over the previous months, and pretend we had not carried 5 kilos of nuts, pitons, friends and assorted nonsense all the way up there just to leave them unused.
Forty metres of rock, gear and good signs
Joshua started the climb, placing bits of gear here and there. There were quite a few cracks and, in my opinion, the climb would be grade III at most (do not take that too seriously, I am not exactly the best climber). But as always, with 20 kilos on your back, things change quite a lot. Choba reached the belay without any trouble, and Druida followed behind, cleaning the gear except for the first piece, to make Lúpulo’s climb easier. After roughly an hour, all four of us were up. I would say it was about 40 metres of climbing, more or less. Ernesto was fascinated by a wallcreeper that had been snooping around, clearly wondering what the hell we were doing. The Sun started to come out, and our mood was pretty good.
From the col to the Escupidera
Then began a fairly exhausting traverse across somewhat soft snow. I went first because, although my companions offered to break trail and take turns, as they should, in my case when the person breaking trail weighs less than me, I sink anyway due to basic physics. So I was burning myself out physically by making a new track on top of an existing track, and mentally by thinking I was not going to sink, only to sink anyway. And that last part really destroys me emotionally. The Sun was already hitting hard, and the final section to reach the Collado del Cilindro finished me off physically, but at last we had crossed into the other valley.
We could now see the Cilindro, imposing on our right, and Perdido on our left, along with the famous Escupidera and the Lago Helado, which we would approach before the final climb. Looking at the state of the climb up the Cilindro de Marboré, we immediately ruled it out. Too steep, in full sun, already past midday... everything about it screamed no. Perdido would be enough, and it was our actual objective.
“There is a ham waiting at the top” mode
We decided to leave the backpacks next to some rocks near the Lago Helado and continue with only the basics: ice axes, the odd trekking pole, some water and the cameras to immortalise the moment (although we do not do this for the photos, let that be clear). Ernesto threatened us with, “I’ll try, but I don’t know if I’ll make it.” Not even he believed that. At that point I would have carried him up there by the ears (although that was not the exact term I used). We scrambled a little along the right side of the initial climb. By then I was personally cooked from the previous climb, and although Joshua was ahead, Diego had to overtake me to make me a more compact track, because at that moment every time I stepped into the track and sank, my brain went straight to hell. I had to activate “there is a ham waiting at the top” mode to reach the summit.
We climbed the Escupidera without any issues, following a track from previous days, step by step, looking down at the ground and stopping for breath every so often. And finally, when we finished it, we were treated to views and a sea of clouds on the French side that took our breath away. What a sight. We stopped to take some panoramas and faced the final slope. We made it. At last, we were on the summit of Monte Perdido.
At last, the summit of Monte Perdido
A good friend of mine, who will be reading these lines (she had better), once told me that when you reach a summit, you create a kind of brutal bond with the people you get there with, fuelled by the serotonin that hits in that moment after all the suffering, the beating, the heat and the exhaustion. It is something you never forget. Honestly, the four of us were absolutely over the moon, and it showed: photos, jokes, laughter, hugs, the whole lot.
From the summit we called Góriz shelter to ask them, please, to feed us, because that day we really were going to make it there to sleep. When we told them where we were, they said: “Okay, you’ll make the second dinner sitting.” Terrified of missing dinner, we descended the Escupidera quickly (while making sure not to end up on the news) and then did a bit of bum-skiing on the final descent to save a few seconds and gain a lot of laughs.
Down to Góriz with dinner on our minds
With the backpacks back on again (we had not missed them at all, not even slightly), the descent to the shelter began. Marmots started appearing everywhere, the snow began turning into prao (because if I say prado, the Asturians will come for me), the crampons went back into the packs, ice axes were replaced with trekking poles, and countless meltwater streams and waterfalls became our companions, along with the occasional rainbow. The descent was honestly beautiful. It had a few little sections here and there, a couple of tiny downclimbs, a well-marked trail... and everything went downhill. Watch your knee cartilage here, though, because it takes a bit of a beating.
Finally, we reached Góriz shelter. Finally, we had that beer (even Joshua, who does not usually drink). Finally, we toasted to having achieved our goal.
Beer, shower and thinking about Ordesa
The shelter staff were kind enough to move our booking from the previous day, when we had not been able to arrive, to that day without making us lose the money for the reservation. That was a real relief, because normally in high season we would have lost it. Since there was plenty of space, they had no problem simply moving it by one day. After settling into the dormitory, which we would share with four other mountaineers (one Spaniard and three foreigners), one of the most anticipated moments arrived: dinner. We stuffed ourselves, went back for seconds several times and had more dessert. And we ate what our tablemates left behind. They looked at us as if we were starving. We were. After dinner, and taking advantage of the detailed map of the area in the dining room, Joshua and I planned what the next day’s route could look like, along with possible alternatives.
The second great moment came with the 4-minute hot shower. The first proper shower since leaving Pineta, not counting the occasional wet wipe and a few snow showers taken by one brave soul in Tucarroya. What a blessing. What a joy. What an everything.
Finally, fed and showered, it was time to sleep thinking about the next day’s route, when we would have to reach our cars in the Ordesa valley, assuming they were still there.
Route data, tracks and video
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