Birds of Frey
Trad climbing, Argentina style.
Words by Felix Landman. Photos by Felix Landman, Ben Ditto and Marcus Loane.
The lights turn red, and there, across the intersection from me, is the red Mitsubishi ute. I run across open the door, and jump in. ‘Felix’, I offer my hand. ‘Seba.’ We shake.
Seba’s seat is tilted back a ways; he drives with one hand on the top of the steering wheel, arm stretched out, low-rider style. His movements are smooth and unhurried, and he talks slowly, barely forming words. He seems to be in a tranquil haze, I wonder if he’s been smoking. I don’t know much about him yet, just that he is an alpine guide and that after some email exchanges he has agreed to meet me and talk about training for the UGIAM exam. We drive around the back streets of Bariloche, on the lookout for secondhand car dealers, I need a car. Seba seems surprised that I contacted him. ‘I try to keep a low profile. How did you find me?’, he asks.
‘The Argentine Guides Association. There are email contacts for all registered guides. Do you still work as a guide?’
‘Not really anymore’, he tells me. ‘Do you still climb?’ I ask, getting a little concerned.
‘Not much. I went bouldering the other week.’
Great. I’ve found myself a retired guide who has also retired from climbing. Not a good start. But he does offer to find a guide who is willing to help me out. And he also leaves me with a pearl of wisdom: ‘So you want to climb at El Chalten [a village at the base of Monte Fitzroy]? Well practice here, at Frey, and climb in the winter. Winter in Frey is like El Chalten in summer.’
I take him up on his advice, and make Frey my home, at least for the summer.
Some months later I’m talking with a friend and Seba’s name crops up. I mention that he was virtually the first person I met in Bariloche, mentioning that he seemed sort of in his own world, half asleep. My friend laughed and gave an explanation. ‘Seba climbed Fitzroy as a teenager, was the first Argentine to climb Cerro Torre and climbed a new route on the north face of K2. He has also skied to the South Pole, and around Lago Nahuel Huapi in a week in his jeans without taking a sleeping bag. As for the last feat, even if you wanted to – which you wouldn’t – you couldn’t. His brother once told me that he may seem adrift but he has a gift. So you met Seba.’
Seba, along with many of Argentina’s finest climbers, learnt his trade at Frey, before going on to make first ascents further south in the Fitzroy, Torre and other remote ranges. While local climbers have long appreciated the setting and quality of rock at Frey, it has only become an international destination relatively recently.
Frey is situated close to the mountain resort town of Bariloche, in the north of Argentine Patagonia. The foot approach to Frey starts from Villa Catedral, and winds it way past Lago Gutierrez before turning into a steep notch that the Van Titter Creek flows down. The refugio sits on a saddle near the Laguna Toncek, and from there you can take in the whole of the northern basin of Frey. Like a shark’s mouth, the ridgelines are studded with sharp orange granite towers.
Haynsey and I are staring at this view before we set off on the hour-and-a-half approach for the Campanile Esloveno. We have decided to climb Buch-Goin (17), an appealing route made up of a series of crack systems on the south face. On the way there Max catches up to us. He was meant to go down to Bariloche today as his girlfriend had sprained her ankle descending from a climb. However, some things can wait when granite cracks are calling.
We get to the tower and Max discovers that, in his hurry, he forgot to throw in his climbing shoes. Oh well, we can manage two pairs between three. Max takes the first pitch, which involves some tricky smearing moves down low before heading into a steep dihedral that finishes with a roof. He makes his way around the roof, stemming at first and then relying on both hands in the crack that cleaves the roof from the wall. Then he’s out of sight and we hear him call: ‘Off belay’. I pull myself up over the final few moves of the second pitch and join Haynsey and Max, who are already basking in the fresh summer sunlight of Patagonia. Once I’m on the granite platform I start racking up. My lead is the final pitch to the pinnacle top-out, which for me surpasses all others at Frey. I’m functioning in slow motion however, even though I’ve climbed this route before. The view – mighty glaciated Tronador looming close to our west and the perfect volcanic cones in Chile – demands contemplation. Maybe I’m beginning to understand Seba’s Zen.
As I’m about to set off I hear the rush of wind, and a condor zooms past, flight feathers outstretched, head slowly moving from side to side, taking in it’s kingdom. It disappears around the other side of the tower and then, seconds later, soars past again. I often wonder if the condors are waiting for us to make a fatal mistake…or are they just curious.
The final pitch of Buch-Goin follows a corner on to a ledge and then another corner to the summit platform. Nothing too stressful, Frey 5. However, the grades are stiff in Frey and, as the guidebook notes, the sandbagging seems to be uniform. The platform fits three, just. The top of the spire some four metres above could fit a perched condor. Max decides to go for a look. It’s worth it – as well as the distant vistas you can see the imposing north and east faces of the Campanile Esloveno.
We rap down, making full use of our double 60-metre ropes, finishing on a platform about a third of a way up the first pitch – this early in the season the snow coverage is still high enough for us to step off on to a consolidated snow slope. I remember the first time I climbed this route and the bitter Patagonian wind that greeted us at the top of the second pitch. On the way down the wind took the rope with it and threw it down the north face, jamming the end in a crack. We got back on track but not before I took a nasty pendulum and endured some exhausting prussicking. Short rappels often pay in Frey, where the crack systems and high wind speeds often take the rope to their own ends.
That afternoon we sat around outside the refugio taking in the sunset and Bicho’s smooth Pisco Sours. Jorgito plays the guitar and tales are told. Patagonian people may be a little reserved at first, but now, after a year here, we enjoy each other’s company and that of transient climbers visiting to climb the classics.
From the refugio, the closest and most striking tower is that of Frey. Here countless numbers of climbers have taken the rite of passage: Sifuentes-Weber (17), a natural line that follows crack systems most of the way, finishing with some big holds on an overhang with marvellous exposure. The route was first climbed in 1960 and the original pitons remain in place – use at your discretion. This is a feature shared by other Frey classics, the most memorable being that of the Normal on the Aguja Principal, where on the penultimate pitch a piton is stacked with a wooden chock.
More contemporary classics also abound at Frey. On the Aguja Frey, Lost Fingers (20) begins with a thin crack and face climbing and finishes with an overhanging hand crack, which requires some good stemming technique. Another line well worth the approach is Objectivo Luna (20), on the Cohete Lunar. Famed French climber, Michel Piola, and G Hopfgartner, established this in 1990. Other routes by Piola are worth seeking out, as he has a fine eye for the aesthetics of a line.
While most of the agujas (pinnacles) at Frey have routes established on each aspect, potential for new routes does exist, and you can take on ascents of seldom-climbed routes. The west face of the Aguja Principal offers routes of up to 250 metres and a remote setting. Few climbers venture over the Col Parotida to access the likes of the Sloveno or Cohete agujas, let alone walking over the Col between the Muralla China and La Lachuza to access the west face of the Principal. The west face is home to Siniestro Total (20), one of the outstanding routes Frey has on offer. First climbed by Sebastian de la Cruz et al, it is a committing climb. It offers plenty of adventure and if the wind gets up, it will make you remember that you are in Patagonia. A French guide who recently climbed this route after a successful summer in El Chalten said to me after encountering a windy day, that he was colder there than on Fitzroy.
This last winter I ended up skiing more in the backcountry around Frey than climbing on its towers, and now feel some guilt at not following Seba’s advice. Something to come back for.
