Tre Cime in the last rays of the sun. The day after our Mission.
2 years ago I came up with an idea of doing the three peaks of Lavaredo (Italian: Tre Cime) in one day. I wanted to push my limits to the edge and climbing these mountains might be just the right recipe. The routes were selected as follows: Cassin – VIII on Ovest, Comici-Dimai VII+ on Grande and Spigolo Giallo VI+ on Piccola. After struggling to find a partner for my crazy idea in 2018, I postponed the challenge for another year. In 2019 Tom Hudson, was more than excited to take on this climbing marathon and exchange clipping bolts for very sketchy pitons.
Our rules:
1) Timer starts from the moment the leader is off the ground on the first route.
2) Timer stops when both climbers reach the top anchors.
3) All free, no pulling on gear.
4) Don’t kill ourselves.
Punters in a (Fiat) Punto
It was 22nd of July. Tom Hudson and I, Vaidotas Monstavicius were trying to have some sleep in our car. We were trying to fall asleep at 19:00, because we would need to get up at 00:00. We could not, the excitement had the better of us, and we just laid with our eyes closed, but not falling asleep. We had the best weather window it had to be now or never. Dolomites are notorious for their afternoon thunderstorms and showers.
23:30. We gave up trying to fall asleep and started to prepare for our long day! Coffee, chocolate and a banana each, for a very early breakfast and off we went. We were at the base of the Cassin route on Cima Ovest at 00:50 AM. We started climbing 00:59 AM. Moving fast over the easy terrain we got to the belay before the crux pitches by 2:15 AM. To save time I linked the crux with the pitch after. I did the most exposed pitch in complete darkness with only my head torch illuminating a small patch of rock to hold and place my feet. At 5:30 AM we were 12 pitches up the Cassin route. The sun was still behind the distant mountains, but now we could see without using our headlamps. We simul-climbed the next 7 pitches and, after a careful traversing over the loose band and a couple more easy pitches, we got to the summit at 7:55 AM.
At that point, looking for the way down, we could not find the normal way, due to very unclear descriptions in our guidebook. Without wasting too much time we decided to abseil the Petri Heil route. It took us longer than we would have liked it to take, but 3,5h later we were on the ground, scree surfing to the base of Cima Grande.
On the previous day we stashed some water and food to make our mission easier. We could see a party of 3 higher up the route we were about to start climbing. They were moving rather slow. “We will ask to overtake them” – we thought to ourselves. 13:20 Tom was seconding up to the belay at the 4th pitch of Comici-Dimai. The party above seamed to have started to climb a bit faster, but we were only 3 rope lengths away. Linking pitches started to get me pumped, “that’s what happens when you try to climb 1635 meters in a day,” I thought to myself. Tom was getting pumped as well, his heavy breathing and screams were loud enough for me to hear 40m away.
At 16:30 I was standing at the belay after the ever wet corner, bringing Tom up. 3 pitches to the top left. The party above showered us with some rocks as they were walking around on the ringband terrace, but luckily none of them hit us. After approximately 6h of climbing we stood at the top of Comici-Dimai. It was around 18:00 when we started our descent.
It is worth mentioning, that Tom suffers from a serious fear of scrambling. A few years back he slipped off and almost died. Walking on loose rocks with a drop of 560m below slowed us, but we managed to get down to the base of Cima Piccola just before 20:00.
Another stash of vitamin water and caffeine was consumed before we chalked up for the last, the easiest and shortest climb of our goal. Trying to make the most of the light we had left, I ran up the first 2 pitches (60m) in less than 15 minutes. “Climb, when ready!”- I shouted. Couple of metres below the belay Tom was shouting in pain: “My knee makes clunking noises every time I need to rock over my left foot…”
Tom on the Slabs of Spigolo Giallo.
Sleep deprived and tired we decided to carry on. Half way up we turned our head lamps on. It was strange to start a climb so late. Everybody was back to huts or their homes. We could only spot an odd person hiking below the wall. We had the mountain just for ourselves. Normally the path is packed with hikers, and the mountain has at least 3-4 parties climbing on it. The traverse pitch on Spigolo Giallo was the only part of climbing where we swapped leads with Tom. The line the route goes is too zig-zagged and it was faster to have a belay to prevent the rope drag. Once more, we were in complete darkness. With the upper crux pitch dispatched I sat at the next belay enjoying the stars and singing songs, as the tiredness was kicking in. I could see Tom’s headlamp illuminating patches of rock when he was looking the right direction. He stopped: “Dude, my head torch is dead! Don’t pull me off as I get my spare one, I am just bellow the crux!” Somehow, he managed to get his backpack off and get the other torch from it without falling off the route, standing in a dihedral.
We had our last Pocket Coffee – a dark chocolate with a liquid espresso filling. It was needed… Somewhere around 23:00 I started, what seamed the longest climb I have ever done. We agreed to simul-climb to the last belay, but in my delirious state I was struggling to remember the route and, I believe, I got slightly off the course.
The last belay before we go to the top. I sat and kept bitting my lip, slapping myself, moving my legs, just to stay awake whilst belaying my, as tired as myself, friend.
Left: Tom – psyched for the mission. Right: Tom – tired beyond belief after our mission.
40 minutes and 30m of easy climbing left. “LET’S DO THIS!” – we shouted. 10 minutes later we stopped our timer at 23 hours 31 minute. We could not believe we managed to pull it off. We fist bumped and hugged and shouted to the night of the top of Spigolo Giallo.
Not Yosemite, but good enough…
Walking in a straight line was a struggle. To get of Cima Piccola one has to traverse on a narrow ledge, but we were not in any shape or form going to do that in the state we were. We fabricated our rope in something as close as a ground mat and curled up on it. Shiver bivouac, baby! Tom smoked his last cigarette to “warm” himself up, whilst I cocooned myself in the emergency blanket. Tom used his extra jumper to stay warmer. We managed to nap a little bit, but the clear night sky meant that it was going to be cold, it was. 5 AM the dawn is powering us up for the last descent. Still in a dreamlike state we got down and walked back to the car trying to comprehend what we had managed to achieve – a big day out! We definitely pushed our limits to the edge. However, we are hungry for more, and who knows, next year we might go for something bigger, crazier even more chossy…
P.S. Later on we found out that Tom had torn meniscus in his left knee whilst climbing the last route on Cima Piccola.
Tom fooling around on Cima Piccola a week prior our attempt.
V-man's 