Climbing new routes – Shetland

 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shetland

The plan was to climb new routes and sea stacks. Preferably the new route would be on a sea stack.
11th Saturday – Ness of Hammer
We got off the ferry at 07.00 and went straight to a zawn we’d been told about by Pete, a local climber who we met on the boat. My climbing partner, Ross Jones, had already been in touch with him by e-mail to get local intelligence. How weird that we should not only catch the same ferry but actually sit next to each other in the bar.
He was due back to Fetlar to see his wife but ditched that to come climbing with us – bad boy.
We found a short wall with routes up to twenty meters. Ross and I abed down and began cleaning two of them and although it was overcast, amazingly it had stopped raining. By the time we were ready to climb the sky had lightened considerably with even just a hint of sun.
The first route was awesome, pulling through a bulge at the bottom on small crimps, then up a crack line which split the face. Not only did it look compelling the climbing was excellent.
The second route was a little more shattered at the bottom, turning to fine rock at about four meters height. A stiff pull through an overhang into a steep corner gave well protected consecutive 5b moves.
The third route was on the face to the left, beginning with delicate moves up steep rock on small holds, which improved with height. The top wall was excellent value with just enough holds and protection at the right places.
We finished climbing early to get the ferry across to Papa Stour, one of the small outlying islands, where we were met by Simon, the local school teacher.
Not only did he put us up for the night, but also cooked us a cracking meal complete with a yummy bottle of red wine, good man.
12th Sunday – Papa Stour
It was an 05.00 start because we had to hit the stack, get off and then back to the ferry which left at 18.40.
Sadly I had removed my wet suit from my bag the evening before to allow it to dry in Simons kitchen, now having arrived at the stack after nearly an hours walk with heavy kit, I realized I hadn’t put it back in the bag. The choices were simple, either Ross would have to do the swim in his cut-down wet suit or someone would have to go back for mine.
Simon sprang to the rescue, declaring that he loved running, and while Ross and I set up the abseil, off he trotted, returning within an amazing forty minutes.             Fit bugger. (we even forgave him for loving running – weirdo!)
So it was on with the wet suit, spare clothes and gear in a dry bag, attach the fins to my harness and rap down the cliff. On with the fins, into the sea, bit of swimming, onto the little rocky outcrop next to the stack. Slip, slide across that, back into the narrow channel between it and the stack and then try to crawl, wriggle, levitate up the kelp covered slimy wall in a two meter swell with a one hundred meter abseil rope attached to the back of me.
Piece of cake. Fortunately I’d downed a couple of meat pies before the adventure which had turned my tummy into six bellies, (should that be ‘Piece of pie’?) therefore enabling me to float better, which was just as well because it took four goes before I managed to get a hold of the damn thing and pull myself clear. There was a bit of faffing to get the fins and wet suit booties off, but there was no way I could climb the wall above with them on. I eventually squirmed my way onto the plinth to cheering from the Ross and Simon, made the abseil rope fast with good pro, then sat back and got changed into some dry clothes while the other two rapped down the rope straight onto the stack.
Because of time pressure we chose an easy line on fairly good rock, popped Simon on top – it was his first stack, and then tyroleaned back to the cliff top. Job done by 14.00 just as it started to piss with rain. Boy did we get wet.
So wander back to Simon’s, quick beans on toast and a couple of tinnies and off to the ferry.
As it turned out this was one of my favorite days of the trip, great stack, superb adventure and good fun with our very generous host Simon.
Back on the main Island we stayed in a Bod. For those of you who haven’t, this is like a bunkhouse without any cooking facilities. It did have a fire which enabled us to dry our kit, and we had a double burner stove with us so the arrangement was perfect. A good curry from the local take-away and a few tinnies rounded off an excellent day.
13th Monday – Muckle Roe
We headed off to Muckle Roe, a spectacular and truly beautiful peninsular on the West coast. Local knowledge enabled us to drive the seven kilometers up the unmade road, which was a real Godsend given that with one and half racks of gear, two climbing ropes, a one hundred meter abseil rope, spare clothing, food and water,  and all the diving gear was hauling in at about thirty kilos per sack. You don’t have to walk very far under that lot before the old back starts to complain.
We only had to haul the stuff for the last K and a half to the cliff top.
The scenery is beyond description; words like awesome, spectacular, beautiful, wonderful, don’t do it justice; if you want to know what it was like – go.
We wandered around those cliff tops, K after K, for about six hours until we finally found a lovely little sun-baked zawn of Granite mixed with volcanic rock which in the main was solid. We’d passed two good stacks on the way, both of which we considered unclimbable for various reasons, but mostly ‘cause they went at E something very ‘ king hard.
We started climbing in the zawn at 15.00 and by 22.00 we’d put up eight new routes of which six were real quality lines between diff and HVS. We called the area ‘The walls of Troll’.
We stayed in the Bod again for a second night and I ate the left overs from the cold curry from the night before along with a few more tinnies.
14th Tuesday- Ness of Hammer – again
We started out by going to Westerwick, which actually wasn’t a bad call because we spied a stack which we decided to leave until later in the week. Bottom line though was that we wandered around the cliff tops again in two separate places – Westerwick and Ness of Hammer looking for routes amongst a whole pile of rotten, broken, rotting rock until we found the corner crack at 18.00. Ross was gagging for it, it looked absolutely desperate to me. Anyway we rapped in and off he went; on the first attempt he pinged, taking a four meter fall into space (it was grossly overhanging). Ross declared it must be done in style, ground up, so he retreated to the bottom and did a re-ascent replacing all his gear as he went. Strong shout. This time at the crux he got it right, and amidst whoops of joy from above I had this sinking feeling that it was my turn.
It was solid 5c all the way through the crux moves and I pinged; an absolutely excellent lead by Mr. Jones, and a really good technical route with some great moves throughout.
That evening we rocked up to Paul’s place where we discovered the delights of his croft and his family, namely Claire (his wife), and in descending order of age their youngen’s Jacob, Sam, Elana, and Isaac.
15th Wednesday – The Faither
This stack without question is in the top three for the finest quality rock of any stack I have ever seen or climbed, including The Old Man of Stoer and The Totem Pole. If this stack were on the mainland British coast it would receive ascents every week during the summer. To find such a beauty, completely unclimbed, is almost beyond belief, and only possible because of its extreme remoteness. No bird shit, loose blocks, puking Fulmars – hey, can’t be a stack.
We walked rolling hillsides for an hour from the end of the unmade road at the farm in Eshaness, until we reached the point. The big stack is off to the right, obvious and of no interest to us. The Faither nestles, hidden, against the West walls of an enormous natural arch, connected by a rock bridge which is exposed briefly at the lowest tide, but at all other times is awash with high seas.
We rapped the sixty meter cliff face onto the bridge. Huge waves were periodically crashing over our intended path, salt spray flying wildly through the air, its pungent odor cleansing everything. When I got down Ross has already timed his dash perfectly and was on the stack plinth, safe from the wild sea.
I counted the waves until I was sure that the sea receded for longer on every sixth big wave – four, five, six,  go. Running like a wild thing across wet greasy rock, my heart was in my throat, my legs pumping like pistons, expecting any second to be wiped from the bridge and slammed down into the roaring, spuming ocean.
This is an awe inspiring, wild place, with daunting black rock walls oppressively heavy around us, reminiscent of some of the Geo’s in Mingilay.
I’m on the stack.
Ross and I exchange a glance, each of us knowing and accepting the outcome of being washed into that sea. Now we can forget about it, at least until we have to return.
As I have said the rock is near perfect, with excellent protection on all the routes with a single exception on the second route where there was a serious run out through some 4b ground which Ross dealt with very adequately.
About 17.00 having completed three routes and just rapping down the other side of the stack for a fourth it started to rain. By 17.30 it was hammering it down, which it kept on doing until we got back to the tent at 23.00. We were completely drenched of course but even this didn’t detract from an absolutely brilliant day, in fact if I had to pick a ‘best day’ of the trip, this would be the one.
Needless to say we negotiated the huge waves on the bridge OK on the return, became completely exhausted jumaring the fixed rope to the cliff top, but still maintained a spring in our steps on the walk out despite the wind and the driving rain being directly in our faces.
I was so tired when we got back to the tent I could only manage half a cup of wine and a can of baked beans before collapsing into my bag for the night.
16th Thursday – Arched Wall
So, not content with the previous days exploits, Mr. Jones dragged me back across the bloody hillside to The Faither peninsular again, this time to have a go at the cliffs surrounding the stack. Thankfully Paul came with us, which helped share the load of gear we had to haul, ‘cause my back was about done with that heavy sack.
I did the first route with them, in fact leading the first pitch, but when Ross declared he wanted to go back down for a second route, given that Paul was all fired up to go with him, I hauled the spare gear and the abseil rope out of there and made it back to the car for some well earned beer and a bit of sunset watching. Sweet heaven, just sitting there on my arse sipping a brew, no sack on my back and nowhere in this damn world to worry about getting to.
We had another curry that night with shedloadsabeer.
Damn, I just love being on holiday.
17th Friday – Westerwick
We had spotted this stack earlier in the week when the weather was clear and fine and decided to leave it for a more overcast day; in the event this was one of the hottest days we had.
Normal rules, yours truly dons the old wet suit, raps the cliff face, on with the fins and off for a little swim. The fun came in two forms, first off the water was infested with jelly fish, and to top that once I’d hauled myself onto the plinth I was faced with a twenty foot solo at about 4 a/b in a wet suit.
Paul had come with us so while I got changed he and Ross rapped directly onto the stack(s). In fact this was a twin towered stack which at very high tide would become two independent stacks; we treated it as one stack with twin towers, and that’s what we called it – The Twin Towers.
Ross led a cracking route up the seaward face of the right hand one at VS 4b, and I took the other one at HS 4a. Good climbing on both stacks although the second tower was very loose at the top.
Then it was back to jugging the line up the cliff face again. My arms were getting knackered; in fact pretty much all of me was getting knackered.
This great day out was topped by a another curry back at the croft with Paul and Claire – loadsagood food and good wine.
I reckon this blog should be called ‘stack climbing on beer and curry’.
18th Saturday – EshaNess
We got up late, faffed around for a while making excuses about mindless stuff that just absolutely had to be done, when in fact we were just putting off that moment where we had to shoulder those sacks again, and eventually headed off to EshaNess.
There was thick mist everywhere; a kind of cold, wet, thing seeping into your very bones. Mr. Jones informed me, “That rock’s going to be wet and slippery”
‘Good reason to go to the pub’ thinks I
Then he found this hanging corner line which looked desperate from the top and even worse as I rapped down it.
Overhanging, wet, on small crimps and jams.
The climbing turned out to be pretty damn awesome; sadly I can’t climb 5c crimps on overhanging rock in the wet, but Mr. Jones did a real good job on it. He called it The Goblin Cleaver.
You work it out.
We had a fabby Barbie that night back at the croft with Paul & Claire and I peaked early, trying to gather some energy for the next (last) day.
19th Sunday – EshaNess again
About five or six months ago I pulled my Brachia muscle, believe it or not opening a window. Now that old muscle starts to hurt like a bitch as I get to climbing more and more, so given the throbbing in my left elbow I decided to have a day off.
Luckily, both Pete & Paul had rocked up to climb that day (Sounds like a hippie group from the 60’s), so Ross wasn’t short of a partner. Also we ran into Mick Tighe and a bunch of his climbing buddies, and Ross ended up doing a route with one of them, John McClenaghan.
We hit the 19.00 ferry out of Lerwick only to find there had been a Hells Angels meet on the Island that weekend and all the biker boys and girls were on our ferry. I crashed until 23.00 and then wandered through to the bar (open until 03.00) and got into some top biker drinking action with a few of the lads.
Obviously I was nice and fresh for work the next morning…………

The routes
MUCKLE ROE
Picts Ness, Walls of Troll
(HU29738681) Partly Tidal East Facing
The spectacular red granite cliffs on the west coast of Muckle Roe mainly consists of poor quality rock. The Walls of Troll provide some good lines on weathered granite and an igneous plug in a sheltered geo.
Approach: From Brae follow the A970 west for 1 km and turn left onto the road for Muckle Roe. Follow this south almost to the end and take a track on the right 100m west of Narwood at HU32616310. The track splits after 1km (this short connecting section of track is not shown on the latest OS map). Take the left fork and follow this to park at HU30926425 before the track descends steeply to a bridge. Contour from the parking space through Leftie Scord to Picts Ness. The walls and prominent hanging corner of the Troll Catcher are easily seen from the cliff top. All routes are gained by abseil and only affected at high tide when there is a large swell.
The Troll Catcher 35m HS 4b *** Ross I Jones, John Sanders 13 June 2005
The prominent hanging corner crack of weather red granite against a wall of igneous rock provides a great jamming crack for those with hands the size of trolls. For humans a couple of large cams (4 or 5) will help protect the lower section. Start 3m right of the corner and climb up to join the crack at 4m. Continue up the wall/crack to the top.
Who’s Afraid Of The Light? 30m HVS 4c Ross I Jones, John Sanders 13 June 2005
Right of the corner is a broken crack line. Climb this on poor rock.
To the right of this the wall of igneous rock deteriorates. The next wall of blackened granite provides good climbing on solid rock from ledges that run along the bottom of the wall. The first route starts 3m right of a hidden grooved chimney.
Hobbits For Dinner 20m HS 4b Ross I Jones, John Sanders 13 June 2005
Climb the wall just left of a small right facing corner to a break at 5m and climb the crackline above.
Troll Wall 20m HVS 5a** Ross I Jones, John Sanders 13 June 2005
Start 2m right of a short rightward slanting crackline/break and below a thin crackline that starts at the break. Climb the wall and crackline to the top. Good, balanced climbing.
Slapping The Troll In The Face 20m MVS 4b * John Sanders, Ross I Jones 13 June 2005
Start from the ledge at the bottom of the chimney. Step left onto the face and climb the wall on small broken cracklines left of the two large cracklines.
Bad Troll 20m V Diff John Sanders, Ross I Jones 13 June 2005
Climb the chimney to the two cracklines on the wall and climb these to the top. A disappointing route up two good looking cracklines.
All Trolled Up And No Where To Go 20m Diff ** John Sanders, Ross I Jones 13 June 2005
Climb the chimney and the short final wall.
Right of the chimney is another wall of clean granite with a slightly right slanting crackline up the centre.
Party Troll 20m HS 4b* John Sanders, Ross I Jones 13 June 2005
Climb the crack easily to a steep pull through a bulge at a hanging flake at two-thirds height and then to the top.
NESS OF HAMAR
The coast around Riva Geo, Red Head and along to Silvi Geo provide a range of climbs up 20m which are being developed by local climbers, but the routes have not yet been written up. The following routes had not been tackled prior to the ascents listed below.
Approach: Red Head is best approached by parking just before the gate to the croft at The Berg (HU31197606) and then contouring around the hills.
Medusa Wall
(HU29687442) Partly Tidal West Facing
The routes are only affected at high tide and a large swell.
Snake Face 15m VS 4b John Sanders, Ross I Jones 11 June 2005
Start at the centre of the first wall on the left from the descent to the beach. Climb the broken crackline and then the face direct where the crackline slants rightwards.
The Gorgan 20m E1 5b Ross I Jones, John Sanders 11 June 2005
10-15m right of Snake Face is a hanging crackline which is undercut with a lighter band of rock. Start below the hanging crackline and climb to the small left facing overhanging corner. Pull around this into the crack and climb this to the top.
Medusa 20m HVS 5a * Ross I Jones, John Sanders 11 June 2005
Start 2m right of The Gorgan and climb up and rightwards to the base of the crack line. Climb this to the top. High in the grade.
Dragon Geo
(HU29727432) Partly Tidal South West Facing
Only affected at high tide.
Taming The Dragon 20m E2 5c ** Ross I Jones, John Sanders 14 June 2005
The corner crackline provides good climbing and an awkward crux at the top.
ESHA NESS
The Goblin Cleaver 40m E2 5c *** Ross I Jones, John Sanders 13 June 2005
This route climbs a curving crackline on an overhanging left facing corner system in the north west wall below the lighthouse and has very different character to the other climbs nearby. From the car park head west to a concreted pipeline north west of the blow hole. Follow the pipeline to its end, then head directly north to the cliff top to the top of a corner groove that forms the exit to the route. The route suffers from a small amount of seepage after rain at the crux.
Abseil to a triangular ledge in a cave beneath the overhanging cliff face. From the ledge climb a rib to the hanging crackline. Pull around into this and make difficult moves to easier ground and a final lay back crack to the top.
Aisha 35m E1 5a * Ross I Jones, John McClenaghan 19 June 2005
Climb the wall right of Atlantic Sea. Bold but never strenuous. A large rack helps creative gear placement!
Comments on other routes:
Black Watch is VS 4c ** not HVS
The Wind Cries… the description for this route seems to climb the same rib and groove/scoop as Mary?
THE FAITHER
The Faither (far point) is the most northerly point of land to the west of Ronas Voe.
Approach: From the parking spot for Warie Gill (HU24608245) walk north to the headland.
Faither Stack
(HU25648590) Tidal South West and North East Facing
This fine 35m stack is hidden away from view by the surrounding cliffs. Access to the stack is gained by a 55m free hanging abseil from the cliff top north west of the stack to a wave washed platform, followed by a dash to the stack across a channel between waves up to mid tide. A 100m abseil rope is required as anchor points are spaced out.
Don’t Even Think About Going To Spain 35m HS 4b ** John Sanders, Ross I Jones 15 June 2005
Start to the left hand side of the face below a right slanting groove that starts at one-third height. Climb this and the groove to the top on good rock.
Cheshire Cat 30m VS 4c **** Ross I Jones, John Sanders 15 June 2005
Guaranteed to bring out a big smile in all who climb it. Climbs the centre of the face on excellent rock. Climb to a small left facing corner and climb the wall to its right and the crack line above. As this ends step left in to a shallow groove and then to the top.
Faither’s Day 30m HS 4b John Sanders, Ross I Jones 15 June 2005
Climb the v-groove to the right of the wall, then traverse around on the south east wall which is climbed to the top.
There is a poor quality line on the north east facing wall which is best approached by abseil from the top of the stack.
It Never Rains, It Pours 35m HS 4a Ross I Jones, John Sanders 15 June 2005
Climbs the wall to the left of the large hanging left slanting crackline on poor rock.
(Climbed in the rain whilst waiting for the tide it continued to rain for the rest of the evening resulting in a soaking retreat and walk out!)
Arched Wall
(HU25658590) Non-Tidal South West Facing
This is the wall opposite Faither stack which is descended by the line of the abseil for approaching the stack. Both routes can be climbed from the tidal platform as an alternative to a long jumar up the wall after climbing the stack. The wall is broken in its lower half by a black right slanting ramp line and is made up of large pockets. A wide range of cams are useful.
Memory Games 55m VS 4b* Ross I Jones, John Sanders, Paul Whitworth 16 June 2005
Abseil to a large ledge at the bottom of a right slanting ramp/crack.
1. 20m 4a Climb the ramp/crack to the large spike belay.
2. 35m 4b Climb the wall to the left of the belay for 3m and then traverse along a ledge (possible belay) before making an exposed pull around the arete onto the wall left of the arete. Climb large pockets up easier ground to beneath an overhang to a corner and climb the wall on the left to finish.
Sea of Change 40m HVS 5a *** Ross I Jones, Paul Whitworth 16 June 2005
Abseil to a small niche to the left and slightly lower than the start of Memory Games and just right of a left facing corner. Climb the arete to another smaller corner at 12m. Step right back onto the arete and climb this in a fine position to a short steep groove. Climb this direct and the wall above to easier ground. Finish at the same short final wall as for Memory Games.
PAPA STOUR
Kirsten Stacks
(HU15256040)
Two fine 20m stacks guard the entrance to Kirsten Hole. The stacks are separated in places by only 10cms, but they remain two separate stacks.
Approach: Abseil from stakes to a tidal corner directly north of the stacks and swim to the platform on the west end of the west stack with the end of the rope. The second then relocates the abseil to a block opposite the stack to make a 40m abseil/tyrolean straight onto the stack. 100m rope is required. Retreat is by tyrolean from the top of the stack.
The Guardian 15m  V Diff  Ross I Jones, Simon Calvin, John Sanders  12 June 2005
Climb the west arete direct. It is possible to step on the summit of the east stack from the west summit.
WESTERWICK
Two Towers Stack
(HU27634210)
The stack has two distinct towers which are separate in only the largest of seas.
Approach: Abseil from stakes or blocks to ledges opposite the stack and swim the 7m channel to the stack and set up a 50m abseil/tyrolean on the connecting platform between the stacks. Retreat is by jumaring back up the tyrolean to the cliff top. The swimmer is required to solo an entertaining five meter wall at about 4a/b to reach the col between the stacks.
West Tower
Building Blocks On A Rockin Top  15m VS 4b *
Ross I Jones, Paul Whitworth, John Sanders 17 June 2005
Climb the south west arete on good rock for 7m then step right and climb the corner to the top. Descent is by abseil.
East Tower
Climbing With A Porpoise 15m HS 4a  John Sanders, Ross I Jones 17 June 2005
Climb the stepped wall between the towers to a corner and climb the wall on the right to the top. The corner climbed direct is 4c. Descent is by an easy scramble down the east ramp.

Climate change – are we destroying the thing that we love?

Back in ’99 I spent a couple of weeks in The Cordillera Huayhuash of Peru. Of course it would have been a waste to go all that way without taking another week first to go to the Galapagos Islands and in addition to stop off on the way back to visit some friends in Florida.
One of the main things that struck me about the Huayhuash was the extent to which the glaciers had receded.
That was ten years ago…….

During 2003, I was fortunate enough to be included in The Scottish Lemon Mountains Expedition to north-east Greenland. As we flew from Ísafjörður, Iceland, in our Twin Otter ski plane, en route to the glacier drop-off in Greenland, the pilot pointed out where the sea-ice used to end just a few years before. We then continued to fly on for another ten minutes before crossing the new sea-ice limit.

Exploring and climbing in these places is for me, one of the great joys of life. But I have to ask myself the question…..   just how much am I personally contributing to the climate change that is blatantly obvious, especially from a Twin Otter at five thousand feet.

Given the amount of air travel involved, then I suspect quite a lot.

Two years ago we travelled to the Yukon in Canada to canoe one of the remote rivers in the north. Our plan on the way back was to stop over for a weeks climbing in the Bugaboos, which we did. Sadly, we sat in the Conrad Cain hut for a week while a blizzard raged outside. Feeling a bit seen off by the weather we made a pact to return and just this week I was planning that return trip for next summer. As I looked at the flights I would need to get me there and back I asked myself, can I justify this?
I’m still thinking about it……

If you’re a climber, then just look at the air-miles you racked up yourself during the last twelve months; or the number of miles travelling to distant crags or mountains.
Consider for a moment the carbon footprint left by the manufacturers of our expensive toys – ice axes, crampons, karabiners, cams, etc.,

I believe that in the pursuit of adventure, we’re helping to destroy the adventure playground that we love………

Climbing in the Dolomites

We’d been on the face of the mountain for nearly fifteen hours; climbing continuously. We were lost as far as the route went, had been for the last four hours. Somehow, somewhere, on this complex and complicated massif, we’d taken a wrong line, I suspect at the top of the sixteenth pitch, and were now forging our way up unknown ground, completely off route. The climbing was getting harder and as I looked over my shoulder the last rays of the dying red sun spread like fire across the sky.  We were at about 2,900 meters judging by the tops of the mountains around us, and the awesome and intimidating face of The Tofana de Rozes still towered above us for another 300+ meters. My spirits plunged with the temperature as the sure knowledge that we would become benighted became a reality. I clipped a piece of rare bomber gear, struggling as I was through horrendous overhanging, loose limestone; the first bit of decent gear in twenty-five meters of climbing, “Lower me,” I called down to Al, “before it becomes too dark to see.” As I dropped away from the wall above me and descended to the ledge where Al was belaying, I looked down and saw the worry in her eyes. I wanted to tell her that it would be alright, but the reality was that we were traveling very light indeed in an attempt to do the route in one day. No backup clothing, no bivvy gear, no reserve food or water.
It was gonna be one hell of a long, cold night.

But there I go again, getting ahead of myself.  I’ve started telling you about a climb that we did during the second week of our holiday, when in fact the best place to start, as always, is at the beginning.

The Beginning.
So this was our sixth trip to the Dolomites; a mixture of revisiting well known and loved areas with some exploration of new territory, and everything orientated around climbing. Any walking or via-ferrataring would only be as an approach to or descent from the climbs.
Our goals were firmly set around big routes; we would do four multi-pitch ‘warm-up’ routes of between c. seven to twenty pitches, and then follow this with harder and longer routes of up to thirty pitches in length.
We’d built in a number of rest days between the climbs and of course had planned it all exactly so any bad weather would fall on these rest days; it was strictly not allowed to rain on days when we should be climbing.
For those of you who know the place well please bear with me, for those who have never been, the Dolomites are separated into different distinct areas and it is natural therefore to think in terms of traveling through or climbing in the ‘Sextener Dolomites’ or the ‘Marmalarda Dolomites’. For the purposes of this article I will break down the climbs into their respective areas.
During our previous visits I have become fascinated by some of the characters involved in the development of climbing in the South Tyrol and intend therefore to share some of this history with you as we proceed area by area. I make no apology for this; treading in the footsteps of some of these characters for me brings more meaning to the route itself; it adds to my sense of accomplishment in one way, because I am able to climb at the same level that they have, although obviously not at the same level of adventure – theirs being a first ascent. On the other hand I am humbled, with my little sticky rock boots, Gortex jacket and state of the art mini-backpack complete with water bladder. I’ve often wondered how I would fare in a wooly jumper and socks, with tweed jacket, rigid frame rucksack and hemp rope at three thousand meters when it started to snow.
I suspect the only thing I would be grateful for was the big boots.

Sextener Dolomiten – Carta Topographica 1:25000 No.10
This area lies to the north-east of Cortina D’Ampezzo towards the Austrian border; famous for the massif of The Tre Cima de Laverado or Drei Zinnen, with spectacular views down to the beautiful Lake Misurina and the Auronzo Valley.
Al had spent the previous week with her friend Rachel in the Aosta Valley and therefore collected me from my Easyjet flight – why do they call it that? There’s absolutely nothing easy about it at all – from Milan airport.
Milan is not the best airport to start from if your final destination is the Sextener area, but hey, we had a five hour drive, just enough time to enjoy a few tinnies, arriving at the Auronzo refugio just before midnight on the 21^st July.
Of course the next morning we were both knackered; I because I’d been finishing up all the crap work stuff that you have to do before you can get on a plane and go off somewhere to enjoy yourself; and Al because she’d just finished a seven hour driving stint from Aosta to the Austrian border.
We decided to take it easy.
This included hauling our kit over to the Refugio Locatelli for a rece of the Paternkofel or Mt. Paterno depending on whether you use the Austrian or Italian name, just in case we might want to actually climb something.
We didn’t climb; we just took the kit for a walk. A twelve K hike around the Tre Cima with about five hundred meters of height gain.
I’ve always admired Al’s concept of a rest day.
Up to this point our largest route on previous trips had been the Torre Firenze in the Val de Gardena; a lovely five hundred meter, fifteen pitch mountain, with an easy walk off.
The next day the weather forecast was good so we decided to jump straight in at the deep end and have a go at the Cima Grande; the largest of the Tre Cima.
We climbed the South Face, or ‘Normal’ route, put up originally in 1869 by Paul Grohmann, Franz Innerkofler and Peter Salcher; not technically very demanding, but an interesting excursion in route finding and at twenty-two pitches, a great confidence builder for what we expected to come later in the holiday.
Historically of course the climb is a must; it’s in the top handful of the ‘classic rock’ ticks of the Dollies, and does get you quiet easily to the top of one of the finest mountains in the area. Sadly it’s not possible to make a round of the mountain; the descent being to rap the route.
The next day was scheduled to be a rest-day; the weather was indifferent to poor with slate grey skies growing darker by the minute and obvious rain storms already happening to the north. However, full of the success of the previous day we decided to take a chance, loaded up all our gear and zipped off back to the Paternkofel.
We used the De Luca/Innerkofler via ferrata to access the bottom of the route on this famous or infamous mountain depending on your point of view.
The many areas that we would travel through on this holiday formed one long battle line during the first world war; the mountains are honeycombed with tunnels and via ferrata created as a result of the need to move military personal quickly and safely (relatively) through the mountain environment.
The Paternkofel/Mt. Paterno changed hands many times during the early stages of the war and was the scene of an epic struggle between the Italians who were attempting to take the mountain, and a few defending Austrians led by a local guide named Sep Innerkofler in defense.
I have spent some time trying to understand the Innerkofler dynasty, which is both complicated and dependant upon the source of information, conflicting. But as far as I can tell the following relationships between the different protagonists are accurate.
Sepp (1865-1915) and his brother Christian were the sons of Franz (1834-1898), all mountain guides in their own right, and intimate with the terrain of the area. Other members of the Innerkofler clan, also mountain guides and very active in climbing new routes at the time were Sepps’ uncle Michael (1844-1888), Hans (1833-1895) another uncle, and Joseph and Gottfried, two of Sepp’s sons; between them they ascended many new routes and had several peaks named after them.
Franz made the first ascent of the Paternkofel on 11^th September 1882 with his patron Count Erich Kunigl via the southern route, which would be our descent. The north-west ridge, the route we planned to ascend, was first climbed by Sepp and Christian with E. Biendl on 1^st January 1896. As a matter of historical note it is reputed that Sepp climbed the mountain by the north-west ridge over one hundred times until 4^th July 1915 when he was shot by Italian snipers, while leading a group of his Standschutzen or flying patrols on a raid on Italian positions.
The Alpini Angelo Loschi recovered his body, which was then buried on Sepp’s favorite mountain with a simple plaque made from a preserve tin which read – ‘Sepp Innerkofler – Guide’.
The climbing was loose in the bottom gully but soon improved and the top pitch, with exposed moves around a fine sharp arête, would justify this as a starred route. The main attraction however is the fantastic view across to the Tre Cima.
Thankfully despite the dark and threatening sky the rain held off until we were well down the mountain and exiting the south of the mountain via the Schartenweg via ferrata.
It was one of those stolen days where the sense of achievement is heightened by the threat of poor weather; I always find that this makes the beer taste particularly good in the evening.
We’d just made it back to the refugio when one mother of a storm hit the hill; thunder, lightening and truly torrential rain; perfect timing by us.
The following day we moved from the Auronzo hut down the valley to the Col de Varda; sadly the chair lift that we planned to take up to the refugio had been damaged the day before in the storm. Oh joy; instead of a pleasant eleven minute ride up in the chairlift, we hauled all our damn kit for over an hour; five hundred meters of height gain later we were at the bottom of our route.
Our goal was to climb the Punta Col de Varda by the North West Corner route which is a bit of a misnomer because for the first seven pitches the line follows a chimney system running directly up the middle of the face, and only on the last pitch does it cross to the left arête.
The route was originally climbed by the indomitable, dashing and hugely popular Emilio Comici with Sandro Del Torso on 1^st September 1934.
Comici was famous for taking the most direct line on any new face; his catch phrase was “let a drop of water fall, and that is the line I will follow.” Which I like to think was said a little tongue in cheek given the rumors of some of his exploits, especially with the ladies. However, whatever Comeci may have said at the time there is no escaping the fact that this is a fine climb on steep ground with holds and protection abundant at all the right places.
The exit from the tower down very steep scree from the col with the main face is arduous and hard on the knees, but overall it’s a super little ‘half-day Comeci.’
Al and I were now moving well together; our climbing was smooth and natural with good teamwork and understanding; time to move to the other side of Cortina for some more challenging routes.

The Cortina Area – Carta Topographica 1:25000 No. 03
To the west of Cortina the mountains are cleaved for almost twenty kilometers by the road running right up to the col of the Falzerago Pass.
To the north of this road are the fantastic and intimidating Tofanes, and to the south the slopes rise up to the Passo Giau, broken by the famous Cinque Torri and Monte Averau.
We had climbed on the Cinque Torri on previous visits, and this time planned to lift our sights a little and begin with an ascent of the south-west face of Monte Averau.
Albino Alvera first led a party up this face on 29^th June 1945, forcing a line through very steep ground with generally large holds but in some places on seriously loose rock.  Because of the nature of the rock many parts of the climb have been protected with pitons and pegs, which in my opinion detracts from the traditional ethic; however I will admit to being grateful for a couple of these pegs at one point where the climbing became very steep indeed and reached a technical level that made a mockery of the 4b grading; of course given my route finding ability it’s always possible that I was a little lost at the time.
We exited by the north face down the via feratta making it a complete round of the mountain, leading easily back to the Nuvelau hut; the weather holding for us to finish in a glorious red sunset; a truly great mountain day.
The following morning the weather was starting to break up again; we traveled to the other side of the Falzerago Pass and took the cable car up to the Laguzoi Hut intending to have a rest day by wandering amongst the hills of the southern Fanes range.
Of course in reality we packed some via feratta gear and a short length of rope and went off when the weather cleared for a brief while to investigate one of the hardest feratta’s in the Dolomites. As it turned out the weather remained unstable and in the event we decided not to do the climb; a good choice as by the time we got back to the hut the rain was on and the hills were completely clagged; exactly the same as they were the following morning when we awoke.
That was Sunday 29^th; which was also planned as a rest day, in preparation for an attempt on The Tofana de Rozes the following day. The weather forecast said the following day was even worse with high winds and storms; so quick change of plans.  We decided to climb the Torre Di Falzerago on the Sunday, take a rest day on the Monday and then subject to the weather improving, have a try on The Rozes on the Tuesday; and it nearly worked out as good as that.
Nearly.
The Torre Di Falzerago are two towers stacked one on top of the other on the north side of the pass below and between the Tofanas and the Laguzoi.  We had already climbed the Falzerago Piccalo by the best route, the south arête in 2002; another Comeci route. I would strongly recommend this against the route we did this year to get to the top of the Piccalo. The north-west face is neither as technical nor as interesting as the Comeci route, proving yet again that Comeci had an eye for the finest line.
We had not climbed the top tower, The Grande, before; the six pitches up the south west face proved to be far better than the route on the Piccalo, marred sadly by the rain which came on heavily while we were still three pitches from the top. We finished soaking wet and very cold; did some sandwich cramming, then rapped off the back of the tower and scuttled down to the Dibona hut to escape the bad weather.
The following morning was the worst yet; high winds, black skies and continuous rain.
We spent the day mooching around Cortina, drinking beer, and getting ready for an attempt on The Rozes for the following day.
The Rozes is the third highest of The Tofanas at 3225 meters; The Tofana de Mezzo and the Tofana de Ince being 3244 and 3238 respectively.
However the Rozes stands alone as a huge limestone massif separated from the other two by a wide hanging corrie which houses the Refugio Guissani. To the east its’ flank falls in steep tiers covered in scree to the refugio; on the other three sides, buttress upon buttress soar on top of each other for over one thousand meters in a complicated jumble of sheer walls and amphitheatres, split by jagged gullies.
There is no route at any grade that we could climb from the bottom of these walls, directly to the top; our route must take first one wall, and then cross via complicated route finding through amphitheaters, to the next.  We were warned by one German party that we met a few days before that this route was very serious upon leaving the ‘Great Amphitheater’ after pitch twelve, and that many parties got lost here. The seriousness is accentuated by the impossibility of rapping after this point; once the first traverse is completed we would be climbing above an overhanging buttress some six hundred meters above the valley floor with a bottomless abseil into space as the only option.
The route we had chosen was the Dimai/Eötvös extravaganza on the south-west face, first completed by Antonio Dimai, the Hungarian Baroness Sisters Ilona and Rolanda Eötvös, Giovanni Siorpaes and Angelo Verzi during August 1901.
The Eötvös sisters together with Dimai and the other first ascenionists of our proposed route were responsible for a number of groundbreaking new routes in the South Tyrol during the early 1900’s but this has to be the pinnacle of their achievements together.
The sisters were fanatical about the mountains; inspired firstly by their father Roland Eötvös, a leading scientist of the day who invented the Eötvös torsion balance, long unsurpassed in precision, which resulted in proof that inertial and gravitational mass are equivalent, later a major principle of Albert Einstein’s general theory of relativity.
Their second inspiration was the Dutch climber Jeanne Immink, one of the earliest and most influential female climbers of the nineteenth century, who was responsible for the first ascents of many Dolomite peaks and had a number of them named after her.
Antonio Dimai together with his brother was responsible for the first ascent of the North face of the Torre Grande of the Tre Cime, and one of the founding nine guides of the Gruppo Guide Alpine of Cortina, which itself at that time in 1871 was still under Austrian rule. Cortina in fact did not come under Italian rule until the end of the First World War in 1918.
We left the Dibona hut at 05.30 on the morning of Tuesday 31^st July, somewhat apprehensive about the scale of our undertaking, but positive that without a major problem, it was do-able.
We were travelling very light; a cut-down rack of friends, some slings, five runners, a belay jacket each with a thin lightweight waterproof, one water-bladder of 1.5 liters, shit loads of chocolate and four sandwiches. Our only concession to weight was that we carried two ice-line sixty meter ropes with the intention of running the shorter pitches together to save time.
At the top of pitch twelve the rock around us didn’t fit very well with what the guidebook was telling us; at this point it was midday. Nothing to worry about; we had nine hours of daylight left and we were about halfway up the route.
By the top of pitch sixteen I was totally confused with the route finding; we appeared to be too high on the back wall of the amphitheatre; now we had a choice: rap and try to find the original route, or, press on into unknown ground and try to climb our way out.
Rapping would only work back to the top of pitch twelve; below that was the bottomless abseil. Did I really want to lose over one hundred and fifty meters of height, which ultimately we would have to re-climb further to our left?
I made the call – no.
We would try to traverse left across the headwall; it was atrocious.
Steep; loose; very little gear, for over one hundred and twenty meters.  Al climbed brilliantly in some very awkward and quite frankly dangerous situations, but we were eating time.
We came to the bottom of a huge chimney at least one hundred and fifty meters high; overhanging and loose. There was no way I could entertain it.
We traversed further left away from the small amphitheater; now I knew for certain we were lost; time fell of the clock like water through your fingers.
We’d been on the face of the mountain for nearly fifteen hours; climbing continuously.
We were now forging our way up unknown ground, completely off route. The climbing was getting harder and as I looked over my shoulder the last rays of the dying red sun spread like fire across the sky.
We were at about 2,900 meters judging by the tops of the mountains around us, and the awesome and intimidating face of The Tofana de Rozes still towered above us for another 300+ meters.
My spirits plunged with the temperature as the sure knowledge that we would become benighted became a reality. I clipped a piece of rare bomber gear, struggling as I was through horrendous overhanging, loose limestone; the first bit of decent gear in twenty-five meters of climbing, “Lower me,” I called down to Al, “before it becomes too dark to see.”
As I dropped away from the wall above me and descended to the ledge where Al was belaying, I looked down and saw the worry in her eyes.
I wanted to tell her that it would be alright, but the reality was that we had no backup clothing, no bivvy gear, no reserve food or water.
We hunkered down behind a wall of piled stones to escape the wind; at some point during the night I tried to take a pull on the feed pipe of our water bladder; it was frozen. I said a quick prayer to the man upstairs about keeping the rain off; clag settled over the mountain.
We shivered.
At first light we started moving around, reluctant at first as the wind was still up; it took an hour before I could get enough stiffness out of my limbs for me to walk up and down the ledge.  Could have been worse, the last time I was benighted was in a hanging belay eleven pitches up Bridevale falls in Yosemite; now that was an uncomfortable night.
Al didn’t appear to see how lucky we were to have a ledge to lay on; funny that.
Once I’d got my limbs to the point where I could move around I concentrated on trying to warm up enough to maybe climb something; lo and behold after another hour or so, with the sun coming round the side of the mountain I felt capable of actually putting my harness back on.
In the morning light the wall above looked absolutely terrible; it was a crumbling pile of choss for the first twenty meters then it steepened to plumb vertical directly above us, capped by a roof. To the right were more bands of overhangs, way too big for me to contemplate, and to the left the wall met a corner system, blocked at about half height by a nasty looking system of loose flakes which bulged threateningly.
I re-climbed the first rotten section up to the point I’d bailed from the night before; once again finding the overhang above to be just too big for my abilities.
On a good day I lead 5a, on an exceptional day and very rarely I have been known to lead 5b, but these days you’ll usually find me pottering about on VS/HVS 4c/5a ground.
I recall one time with Graham Stein, new routing at Latheronwheel, we were demented enough to have a go at a line on the north wall of the bay where the stacks are; we gave it XS, 5a for an on-sight, un-cleaned ascent. The second ascent of ‘Monica Lewinsky’ (loose but enjoyable) was made by Graham Little and Scott Muir a few months later, after cleaning the route. They gave it HVS 5a.
This wall I was now on, some 2,900 meters higher than Monica, was harder, looser and scarier; the big difference was that I could have walked away from Monica any time I wanted to, whereas right now – I had to climb this puppy.
I decided the corner system on my left was really the only option; using the rope to my right for tension I began the traverse. It was about thirty feet and I did get one friend in a pocket about two thirds of the way across, which might have held.
I was muttering away to Him upstairs big time, all the way across; I couldn’t actually put my hands together for obvious reasons, but I figured He’d understand.
I got to the corner having beaten my own record for gibbering to find that it was a hell of a lot more solid than it looked; I was a wee bit pumped mentally and jammed a few friends in the crack until I felt in control again.
Looking up, my recent elation was slightly dampened by the bulging flake ten feet above. I bridged up, in what was actually a fine position, and poked at it for a while, until I found the confidence to grab hold and give it a good push and pull.
Miraculously it didn’t move; sure chunks of rotten rock surrounding it fell off clattering down into the gully below, but the flake appeared solid.
I got a number three Camelot in about level with my feet; I just love those things don’t you? Then pulled up wildly, smearing on the wall and suddenly it was all over.
I knew I could climb the corner above, which went at about 4b ish and then I was at the top.
Amazingly there were two big boulders situated in exactly the right places for me to put slings around which made the job of protecting the traverse for Al real easy; she had a wee bit of a problem with the bulge, but apart from that she climbed the rest of it cleanly.
There was that worried look on her face still when she came over the top, but that was because she didn’t know what was still in front of us, which in reality was some easy scrambling to a ridge, which led to the top.
We sat around up there for a while, in the sunshine; by about midday I’d warmed up sufficiently to take off my belay jacket. We’d run out of water hours before and finally thirst drove us down the scree slopes to the Guissani hut.
Copious amounts of cold beer and hot Goulash, followed by more cold beer and eggs and bacon, dimmed the memory rapidly. By eight o’clock in the evening we were saying what a great route it was and how much we’d enjoyed being on the mountain for thirty-three hours non stop; like we’d planned it that way. In the back of my mind was the nagging thought that things would have been very different if it had rained.
We had a couple of days of rest and re-grouping; got the kit sorted, did some washing and cleaned ourselves up and by Thursday evening we were ensconced in the Demetz hut, ready for an attempt on The Funffingerspitzen the following day.

Val Gardena Dolomites, The Sella Group – Carta Topographica 1:25000 No.05
I remember the first time we drove down from the Passo de Pordoi some six years ago and my eyes fell upon the towering spires of The Funffingerspitzen, jutting upwards through the clear blue sky between the massifs of the Langkofel and the Plattkofel, thinking to myself ‘I have got to climb that’.
It’s a compulsion; you see it and if you love towers and stacks as I do, then you’re lost; you have no choice in the matter; you become captured, fascinated; driven.
We first tried the full traverse in July 2004, but sadly we were hit by a storm on pitch eight and bailed at the top of pitch nine, which is the summit of the first tower, The Thumb.
The full traverse goes at between twenty-two and twenty-six pitches, depending on how you put it together, with only two places where you can safely bail; The top of the Thumb, and the col after the Middle Finger.
It was first traversed by Hans Huter, Gustav Jahn and Erwin Merlet, during the summer of 1917; a slightly more difficult proposition then than today I suspect as they did not have the benefit of the chairlift which deposited us at the door of the very comfortable Toni Demetz hut, some twenty-five meters from the foot of the climb.
We were keyed up and ready for this; not as big as our undertaking on The Rozes, but on a personal level more important to me than that route.
I awoke naturally at 05.15, sprung out of bed to check the weather; I couldn’t believe my eyes.
It was snowing.

SNOWING.

I guess the real consolation was that it hadn’t snowed while we were on that ledge two days before.
The hut custodian told me that it was unseasonably cold for the time of year.
Mmmmmmmmmmm……………………..
On the plane home I rationalized it, as you do.
We’d climbed six excellent multi-pitch mountain routes, over seven days; a total of 2,280 meters of climbing in 85 pitches.
Where else can you consistently average twelve good pitches of climbing per day on excellent mountain routes, interspersed with good food, good wine and excellent local hospitality?

And anyway, the Funffingerspitzen will still be there next year.

 The Refugios
I just love them.

Sure there are some that are under par, the service stinks, the food’s poor or the selection is limited, but hey, they’re warm and safe and they beat the shit out of hunkering down behind a few boulders at just under three thousand meters, where the temperature has frozen the feed to your water bladder so you can’t suck a drink down while you freeze your arse off for eight hours; and… I haven’t found one yet that doesn’t sell beer!
We joined the Italian club, ‘Club Alpino Italiano’ (CAI), which you can do over the web www.cai.it/ for about thirty Euros each; there are a large number of huts that offer reduced rates to CAI members, not only on the bed rate but also on food and wine.  We saved quite a lot of money this way.
You should also note that some of the climbing shops in the Dolomites will give you a 10% discount on gear if you show them a CAI card; bit like the BMC card over here. If you’re already a BMC member you will have reciprocal rights with CAI anyway.
The following is my interpretation of our refugio experience and therefore does not necessarily represent a definitive critique of each refugio; I’m just trying to give you a feel for what we found.
Like I say above, ‘in extremis’ all the huts are good. 

The Auronzo Hut. Alt. 2320
Situated at the end of route 101 above the northern end of Lake Misurina directly beneath the Tre Cima de Laverado.
Access is by the toll road.
We found this hut to be hugely commercial because of the road access; however, the custodian is very friendly and encourages her staff to be the same, consequently the atmosphere in the hut is good.
 We had a private room which was clean, warm and comfortable, with excellent views south; the bunk areas looked well kept.
The food was a bit ‘mass catering’ style and fairly bland because of it, but there was a large selection by comparison to other huts; value for money was better than average.
As far as commercial huts go this is a far cry from the infamous SellaJochause which I talk to in more detail later.

The Col de Varda Hut. Alt. 2115
Situated at the top of the Col de Varda cable car from the southern end of Lake Misurina.
Access by cable car or hike up for between 40 mins to one hour.
They were polite but not friendly, and despite the fact that the cable car was being repaired and therefore out of action they were very busy. The rooms were clean and comfortable, but the setting is not that striking and the views of the big mountains are limited.
Value for money was OK with a limited menu but well prepared food.

Refugio Nuvolau. Alt. 2575
Situated on top of the mountain, literally it occupies the highest spot on the peak.
Access is best made from the Passo Giau cable car by the Refugio Fedare, which climbs to the Forc Nuvolau col next to the Refugio Averau; then a twenty minute walk up the mountain to the summit. Alternatively you can take the cable car from the Passo Falzerago to The Cinque Torri and walk up from there, about 1-1¼ hours.
This family run refugio is friendly; the Canadian born custodian obviously speaks English and runs a delightful kitchen offering excellent food with a good choice. The rooms are clean and comfortable with simply stunning views in all directions.
Sadly the hut is mobbed at lunchtimes by via ferrata goers, and as there are limited toilet facilities things turn out a bit messy and smelly. Remember this hut is at the very top of the mountain, there is no natural water here; so there are no showering or washing facilities.

Refugio Lagazoi. Alt. 2752
Situated on top of the Laguzoi Pizo.
Access is either via the cable car from the top of the Falzerago pass, or by walking up route 402; approx. 1½ hours.
I have to admit right up front that this is a favorite hut of mine. The views are just spectacular, especially eastwards to the Tofana de Rozes. The rooms are warm, clean and comfortable with their own balcony. The food selection and quality is excellent and we have always found them to be friendly.
A little expensive perhaps, but given the above, value for money is good.

Rifugio Dibona. Alt. 2080
Situated on the hillside to the south of The Tofana de Mezzo.
Access is by road No. 403 from the Passo de Falzerago. Be aware the final section is on unmade road.
As you would expect from a hut that commemorates the life of the legendary Angelo Dibona, tradition is the order of the day here.
They are friendly, helpful and offer excellent food, albeit with a limited menu.
We have stayed in both the main building and the bunkhouse and found them to be warm, comfortable and clean.
The only downside is that the prices are a little expensive for a hut that receives its supplies by road.

Refugio Guissani. Alt. 2580
Situated on the bealach between the Tafana de Mezzo and the Tofana de Rozes on the north of the Falzerago pass.
Access: If you are going up to the hut directly then the only route is via mountain path 403, approx. 1 hour. However the hut is on the descent route from both mountains and on the occasions that we have stayed there it has been on our way off the hill.
This is another of my favorite huts; everything is excellent about it.
The situation, the views, the people are a joy, the food and wine is superb, the accommodation second to none and the value is quite unbelievable. I don’t want you to think I’m biased or anything.

 The Toni Demetz Hut. Alt. 2685
Situated on the col between the Langkoffel and the Funffingerspitzen above the Sella Pass.
Access either by the cable car which runs from beside the SellaJochause, or via mountain path No. 525, approx. 1 – 1½ hours.
Another lovely old traditional hut; not quite in the same situation as the Guissani but still very good. The custodian is friendly and cares for the hut well, with good food and accommodation; value is average for a mountain hut. The position however between the two massifs is stunning and gives ready access to a wealth of excellent climbs.

 The SellaJochause. Alt. 2160
Access: it’s on the main road No. 242 referred to as the Sella Pass.
When I said “all the huts are good” there is obviously an exception to every rule.
This place would fit in very well in Aviemore, or Blackpool; although that’s probably an insult to Blackpool. It’s obviously impossible to insult Aviemore.
Hoards of coaches full of people trundle in and out of the car park to receive indifferent service at best; on occasion the staff are just plain rude. The bivvy site at 2,900 meters is actually more comfortable than the beds in this place, and certainly a lot quieter. The food is almost inedible and there is absolutely no point in even beginning to discuss value for money.
It does piss me off big time when a beautiful, well kept and well situated hut like the Guissani provides beds to CAI members at 10€ per night complete with a wide selection of excellent food which has to be hauled up the hillside in small quantities at a time, in a bucket lift, while this place, also a CAI hut charges 20€ per night complete with shite food at much higher prices which has been dropped off the back of a lorry in the parking lot.
In my opinion, the place is an absolute blot on the landscape.
There I go again, being objective…………………………..

 Refugio Valentini. Alt 2215
Situated on the path No. 557 on the left just before you reach the SellaJochause
Access: you can drive the first half mile right up to the hut.
Another demonstration of how to make a commercial, busy refugio really work.
This family-run hut is friendly, comfortable and clean if now getting a little bit tatty at the edges, but the real pierce de resistance is the food; this is the Michelin star standard of the refugio world; if you love your food (and your wine) then next time your in the Sella area this place is a must-stop for you. But make sure you book well in advance; there is no such thing as a walk-in here; we’ve found this place to be booked for the whole season one year in advance.

 As you can probably tell I’m a real fan of the huts, with the one exception of the SellaJochause. They offer flexibility and value that can’t be found in normal hotels or pensions. On average we reckoned that for bed, breakfast and a three course evening meal we paid 50€ a night each. Because of the weather we changed our itinerary several times and were accommodated by the huts with a simple phone call without any complications or cancellation charges.