August 2006. At some point, between millions of raindrops, the third, and the fourth beer, we speak about the aims for the upcoming winter. Martin, with a big smile from one ear to the next, suggests trying ourselves in the Bellavista on the Cima Ovest … and I cannot help but think he is crazy, or at least drunk. A few days later the same ideas dance around in his head, so I try to make friends, too. Well, we could try it … and if necessary I can always jumar behind Martin and let him do the job. 

Beginning of November, the first snow falls down the sky, and we walk in the direction of the Tre Cime to give the route a closer look and to deposite the first material at the bottom of the wall. It was already clear from the very beginning that the project was going to be a battle of material. Unfortunately this day is one my few good days and so it happens: Full of motivation I say, that I’m going to do the first pitch – knowing that according to Alexander Huber the first was the most dangerous of all pitches. Close to the wall nothing seems too bad, the first piton was seven meters high…but I’ll do it! 

Scene change: 6th of January 2007. Somehow we manage - with to fully packed rucksacks - to get to the Rifugio Auronzo. The plan is to pitch our bed there in the wintercamp and to handle the tour in the next two days. The clock rings very early and with an amazing sunset in the back we trudge for one hour to the bottom of the wall. Without knowing what to expect I carry all possible material, squeeze myself together with the woollen socks of my grandma in the climbing shoes and take a deep breath. First of all we want to climb technically, but taking into account the few pitons there is no other possibility then climbing it free. And even the few pitons don’t seem to be very trustful. At some time, 20 meters above the ground, I manage to put a reliable Camalot in a whole and for the first time I feel secure. No idea, if the previously pitons would have survived a fall – probably not.

In the meantime I lost the feeling in my hands and feet, and because of the cold wind it is time to come to the belay. 15 meters above, a few really difficult freeclimbing meters higher and after some technopassages I see the saving bolts on the belay. Just a few moves and I can clip myself in the bolts. I cannot believe that I did some of the most difficult pitches of my life. While Martin is jumaring up the rope, I pull up the rucksack with all the material. I’m happy and relaxed, especially because I have a break now and it’s Martin’s turn to lead. And only therefore I don’t even mind that while jumaring he breaks out two of the pitons with his bare hands. And this two little pitons should have saved my life?!