The Adventure – July 2, 2008
It’s 5:00 am. The early dawn is beginning to lighten the clear sky. There is not a cloud to be seen and the air is dry and clean. Still sleepy, we travel by car towards the Lavaredo hut. From here we walk towards the pass of the same name, which we reach in 15 minutes and which offers a spectacular view of the north walls of the Tre Cime. Another 15 minutes bring us at last to the starting point of our route; an easy approach if you compare it to many others in the Dolomites.

While we are getting ready for the climb, three Spaniards join us at the base with the intent to climb the same route. One of them asks me very politely if they can go first, and I respond to him equally politely: no. All climbers know how unpleasant it is to have someone above you while you are climbing; furthermore, Paolo and I know the route well and we think we will be faster than they. At the end of this brief conversation, Paolo starts to climb. The day before, in fact, we had decided that he would be the leader, while I would climb with Tony, standing near him to better help him in case he needed it. The first two rope lengths of this route are easy, just the thing to loosen and warm up your muscles before the real difficulties. Quickly, we reach a comfortable little terrace dominated by the imposing north wall of the Cima Grande, and from here we become aware that another twosome has arrived at the base of the wall.

Yesterday, Davide told us that he too might be coming on the north face with his client Galileo, and in fact there they are getting ready to get on the route. We greet them from up high and Paolo is off. Ideally, the wall can be divided into two sections: the first half of the Comici–Dimai is very difficult, often overhanging, which requires an athletic style of climbing and good technique. The second section is clearly easier (but always in the 5^th grade of difficulty), and the route follows a series of cracks and water conduits to end on a ledge that encircles entirely the upper part of the Cima Grande. While I belay Paolo, the Spaniards and Davide arrive at the little terrace. They seem quite good and are very likable; we exchange a few humorous remarks. Now it is our turn: Tony leaves first and I follow shortly thereafter. The first difficult pitch proves to be truly that for my friend. He labors quite a bit, and when we get to the belay point his arms are already tired and he is beginning the doubt the outcome of the undertaking. We talk about it and we decide to continue for another couple of pitches, since further up there is a possibility of escaping the wall without too many problems.

Paolo takes off again, he climbs quickly and confidently. He is a “son of the trade”; his father Luciano, born in 1939, was a very accomplished climber but died prematurely in 1996, when he was still climbing 7a, something unusual for a man his age. Then it is our turn again, but now I decide to climb ahead of Tony in order to better help him by placing some slings in the more critical passages. He appreciates this choice, which in fact turns out to be a good idea. We continue for two more pitches; Tony has gotten his second wind and is doing well. In order to help him, Paolo pulls on the rope and this tires him out more than the climb itself; he is beginning to feel some cramping in his arms. After another pitch, I propose that we change leads. My arms are still fresh and I feel well. But he refuses saying: “Let’s go up another couple of pitches and we’ll see”. And so we continue to climb. We are going well. Already we have put some distance between the Spaniards and us. Tony continues to take many photographs, and he is very satisfied on how the climb is going. There is only one more rope length to the end of the real difficulties on the ledge where the first climbers bivouacked. I propose again to change leads with Paolo, but even this time he does not accept, telling me he feels better. And so a little before noon we arrive at the beginning of the “easy” part.