Since I climbed a part of Crisálida, after a few days, I wandered disoriented like a fisherman who goes out to sea in his small boat and is caught in a storm. Once it happened, I woke up on a raft of oil, the sea shone like never before, its opaque and barren color only reflected an out-of-focus figure every time I looked into the depths of these waters. I have lost fishing gear, oars, water and provisions. I don't think they would have been of any use to me either.
A heartbreaking Lisabö song with a very eloquent title kept playing in my head.
“Gorputzak Gastatzen will say. Ideiak gastzen will say. Hitzak gastzen will say. Oroimenak gastzen will say. Koloreak isiltzen will say.
Zure nahiak mahai gainean barreiatzen dira.
Eusten dute gorputzek. Zirgil egiten dute ideiek. Itotzen will say hitzak. Okertzen will say oroimenak. Galtzen will say sentimenduak.
“Ametsak beldurrerantz labaintzen dira astiro: Eta nik denbora osoan maite zaitut.”
I have always been afraid to share my climbs, to go back to the origins of that child who began climbing to escape horror. He would have been 5 years old, when perched on the rocks of Lamíndano, my 7-year-old brother was already securing by hand that rope tied to my waist. Over the years I learned that that rope would have been worthless. There was no insurance, only the certainty that somehow peace did us a lot of good.
The mountaineer is not just any artist, there are great similarities with all those who tear their soul to such an extent that incomprehension, fear, the end of a work can lead to madness and extermination. When you share a work and it finally flies free, the feelings are mixed but not negative.
A barren, elderly mother sees her son, who is now a man, leave. She will return with her life in one pocket and a part of her heart in the other.
It was clear to me, as soon as I woke up the next morning, who flew out of that chrysalis. It is that true love that we long for, the one that we dream of so much and that some lucky ones often find. The one who burns us with the best hug you can remember but that you are unable to keep alive forever.
As Crisálida's review points out, we must look for it after wet snowfalls or snow moistened by rain that then freezes in that refrigerator.
Last week it happened (I live here and this happens very rarely, almost never), for many it was a catastrophe, winter was ending in the Pyrenees. It rained heavily and a thin layer of snow finished off the disaster while that frosty snow shone on a starry night.
-"Well, let's finish it as it deserves."", I thought.
On Sunday I went up guiding the first 2 pitches of Crisálida, I couldn't stop howling on the approach. I went up like a puppy, I went ahead, I came back... I pushed the herd, and when the wait became long for the arrival of the flock, I howled at the morning.
The snow was frozen and the other wing of the chrysalis was finally visible. I could add that the last climbs had made me physically ready and emotionally freed.
The Wolf Moon was approaching (full moon on 25/01/2024).
We are talking about the scar that divides the wall practically in 2. An obvious but at the same time exposed line that gains verticality with each meter. The funnel below is hair-raising, channeling any falling objects from across the Western Front. I would recommend climbing this last wing first before undertaking the other. It is always better not to know what you have above you... although I consider that due to difficulty the logical sequence may be the other way around.
Last Monday was a strange day, I took out the school robe that I still have from childhood and remembered how I used to escape to the forest during recess, while my classmates played soccer or threw stones at each other. I used to be alone. Once they threw one of those stones at me while I was coming back and they opened my head, I never understood why. Maybe because they were children, but I never understood it, I wouldn't have done it.
This past Monday, I made several calls, sent several messages, the memory of that bloody robe drowned me. I tried to avoid fate at all costs. It didn't work, I was alone again. Finally I locked myself in the junk room and started packing my backpack.
I tried not to disturb the order at home until I had no other option but to share with Bea, Otal and Lola the harsh reality, a date was waiting for me that I had been eluding for a long time. Without her respect and support all this would not be possible. I am aware of the uncertainty that I convey to you.
I woke up almost without sleeping at 4 in the morning, the breakfast ritual was up to the moment, I took my time. I knew that peace would be absent for the rest of the day. I drove to the cabin and spent almost an hour reflecting and trying to find any excuse to return home, I wasn't even able to put on my shivering gaiters. The ambient temperature and the expected rise during the day would have been enough arguments.
“I'll try” I told myself… at 6 am I took the first step. My injured ankle stayed in the car for a while.
I stumbled several times, the backpack was too heavy and couldn't fit the grass cloths from other days. Soon the snow appeared, it was freezing, very freezing. I put crampons on. I gained confidence. Despite the bulk, I climbed almost to the niche like a shot. I'll try, he told me.
Suddenly 3 lights appeared at the bottom of the valley, they ran like demons and drew strange spirals. They ate the valley in a jiffy. What is that? I thought. It seemed surreal. They stop, they pull towards Tendeñera, they miss the path, then they come back. A pack of rabid wolves I thought. Finally his pace slowed down... I'm not alone.
I abandoned the warm jacket, a down vest would be enough to get through a possible bivouac, I got equipped and started climbing. 10 pitons, 2 sets of Friends, fisureros, numerous ribbons, a 50m joker and a 46m Kevlar (not enough to rappel Chrysalis), some food and 1 liter of water accompanied my soloist in the backpack.
The wall purged petals of ice. I climbed the shoulder of the corridor solo, the wall welcoming the dawn. I placed myself under the funnel of the first pitch where the spine of the Chrysalis begins. Hold a meeting and slow down the pace. I didn't connect to the rope until the first person showed up. Identified (Carlos, Nacho and Kike from Jaca, I didn't know them) I offered that someone would take pity on me but it didn't happen, at this point a team doesn't separate just like that. There was no time to lose, the conditions of the wall threatened our intrusion.
I hesitated to climb the first pitch without a rope but I was scared. I passed the 80's narrowing in icy snow and progressed with the aplomb of a vertical wall, I set up a meeting with a quick rope. This length, in a normal winter, disappears covered by snow.
For those who do not understand the matter, the wall is climbed alone twice, you have to go down to recover the fixed rope tip. I regained the pitch and began climbing one of the best frosty snow pitches I have ever climbed. Plates of frozen snow suspended on inconsistent legs of wet snow supported by fragile frozen walls adorned a rock plate vertical 2 degrees, after 90 meters it dropped to 15 degrees AI85+ No insurance. Finally I was able to start putting some friend and the snow improved traction somewhat, I set up a meeting at 5 m. I recovered the scared length. Things were starting to fall.
The next pitch would get me out of the middle of the cirque under the W wall. I climbed it very quickly M5/80 degrees, another 50 m to the poise of a vertical goulotte. The protection was worse than in Chrysalis. We had to nail more. The next two pitches are scary from the meeting. I hoped that if something happened to me, the group on the other side of the spur would come to my aid. There is no coverage on this wall... I couldn't hear them... what if they were gone?...
The snow would be hollow on the first two pitches of its route. I climbed vertically 90 degrees to an M7 bass drum protectable with the blue totem but the crack was glazed, my tips didn't grip anything on the smooth wall. I put a piton and scaled the M7 bass drum exit 95 degrees. I continued through a strenuous goulotte at 85 degrees with random steps of M6 until I ran out of rope. I recovered the pitch, juggling with the dynamics and the backpack was an ordeal, at times it was better to try to half climb, my arms warned me while I panted. The goulotte continued another 15 meters until it was blinded by a collapse, so I abandoned it to the right after 5 meters M6+ to climb at 80 degrees until I looked out over the W wall.
My idea was to climb the chimney from the exit to the summit to the right of Crisálida but nearby I tried to look for an alternative… it looked too much.
Crouching on the edge of the W wall, this turned out to die on a razor's edge, reach the very exposed wall and try to gain the central channel, for what? It was pure puff pastry, a dump. There was no future there. I continued the length until I entered another vertical goulotte at 85 degrees M6 that left me halfway up the black and compact wall that defended my desired exit. 50 m meeting of 2 pitons. I arrived with cramped hands and arms.
I had to drink and eat. I did it like that. I recovered the pitch and finally when I arrived at the Reunion I saw the other team under the hard pitch of their route. I asked for a photo and to be careful with embedded blocks of that length. They could fall towards me. Damn that's enough... I thought, I was very stressed.
I tried to climb to the right to gain my possible exit but I didn't have knifeblades or birdpeks. Just a hook. It was a length to open in artificial, the extra-flats were not thin enough and it lacked said material.
I continued climbing more slowly and somewhat recovered but slowly at 80 degrees M6 until I was at the same height as R 9 of Crisálida but about 30m to the right. A somewhat broken chimney M5+ placed me just 8 meters from the last meeting of Crisálida. I got off the last bolt of this pitch and climbed the pass that I had left to clear on the 13th.
I agree with the group in delimiting the length to M8. In the top rope I see it more human (now only 2 pythons and 3 friends hang from my harness). He climbed to the meeting, what beautiful steps! I arrive just as Carlos comes down from the top. 50 meters for this last length. The others are going down. I fix my rope and ask them not to let it go until I have connected to Crisálida's R9 after recovering my length. Wait for me a while. Thank you very much!
Its getting dark. I go down the rappelling line with them while I guide them and let myself be guided through known terrain, we are roped. It all ends with a beer and a cheese board at 21pm in Torla. How big is the mountain!
But it doesn't all end with that beer.
Today full wolf moon, I returned to that cabin, my home. I curled up on its floor so many years ago... the color palette extends to the firmament, the frozen petals that fall from the wall intermingle with the pollen released by the butterfly. It flaps its wings, prepares itself while a rhythmic and almost imperceptible symphony is projected from the wall into the valley, what a spectacle! At the top of the chrysalis there are two moons, those moons that have accompanied this child that lives inside me since its origins.
From the Chrysalis its two wings have finally emerged.
One moon is full and although the other one seems to be missing a little piece, what would be of us without those imperfect dreams?
I don't know if I will ever climb that pitch and a half that will complete the other moon.
I just know, in the solitude of the valley, in this wonderful light that these 2 soul mates project today, that I can understand the need for each other. I feel lucky because everything makes sense to me and I want to believe that destiny has protected me these years to do so.
Call them Chrysalis. The story of 2 paths that meet.
