Badile humour, Al Masino, little Italian Yosemite
The Val Masino, the southern part of the Bergell represents a forest of granite walls and sharp ridges worthy of Yosemite. The north face of the Piz Badile stands out here where the highly celebrated Via Cassin weaves its way through the itinerary with staggering audacity and intelligence. Bravissimo maestro.
TEXT & PHOTOS : Guillaume Vallot
San Martino, gateway to the Val Masino. Monday morning, 0600 hours, the bells peal out. Our guide Sébastien Foissac jumps out of bed, his golden ice-axe in his hand. “Has war been declared?” We burst into fits of laughter. In this catholic Italy, the ringing of bells to announce the angelus is serious stuff! We really feel the effects of the murderous wake-up call as we make our way up the warm-up route from Océan Irrationnel to the Précipice des Astéroïdes’ wall. The following day – alleluia - the bells are broken, and we really needed this miracle to get some rest before the ‘terrrrible’ north face of the Badile. Our guide is all too aware of the problems of overcrowding. “Bricater” in southern jargon is when you "skate on the spot", which is a syndrome related to slow rope parties. He is going to teach us how to get past them "politely and elegantly". The third morning at 0530 hours, there is a further cacophony: all the bells sound at the same time… After repairing the bells yesterday, they are now trying them out!
The Wall of Legend
Conquered in 1937 amidst pain and torment by Cassin, who left two companions there, the north-east wall of the Piz Badile had a rather sinister reputation from the outset. All it took then was for a great climber, equipped with a fine track record, to let himself be affected by the reputation, for a legend to be born. This was exactly what happened twelve years later with Gaston Rébuffat's first attempt, who personally ranked it in his quintet of the most difficult north faces in the Alps. Since then, global warming, climbing shoes and bolts in the belays have downgraded the wall. The 800 metres of dried granite and a 3,308 metre exit rarely cause any problems for a trained rope party in fine weather. However, if bad weather hits it can be a very different story. The funnel configuration of the wall, the gully chimneys exits smooth as a behind, and the sinuous itinerary, don’t inspire you to whoop with joy at the arrival of a storm.
At the Sasc Füra mountain refuge
After a meal with plenty to drink in honour of Ricardo Cassin, our rope party is in Badile humour, and it is time to invest it in the still empty dormitory. We make ourselves comfortable. Two foreign climbers come into the room and seem angry. Are we sleeping in the places which were reserved for them? Without saying a word they head off to denounce the 'scandal' to the warden. Meantime we jump into the other places and make out as if we are sleeping. The grumblers re-emerge with the warden, who says to them in an annoyed tone: “Are you having a laugh! There’s nobody in your place!” There’s nothing like a little joke in the mountains.
Shock, horror!
This morning, the approach resembles the southern expressway. There is an entire officer cadet training course ahead and one of the six rope parties is already climbing. Either we kick our heels for hours at each belay, or we overtake them… “elegantly”. Sébastien casually attacks the fissure, under the stunned eye of the battalion. Our guide skips the first belay and continues with a taut rope. Stepping on the helmet of a young cadet on my way past, I lose a little elegance and gain a guttural sermon which I prefer not to understand. Above us, the wall disappears into the faraway dawn. Left to our own devices our rope party strings together the first ten pitches with ease.
Following on quickly from this though, you have battle your way up the twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth pitches of the anthology. It's a great struggle with a bag still too heavy, and sucked backwards by an ominous void. We think of the early climbers with their old gear, who would’ve taken hours. A little humility perhaps, to avoid the fear and the temptation of complaining: there are virtually no icy patches.
Read the rest of the article in the Mountain Report magazine - Where to find ?