Bernal awaits

The second entry of this blog, the first one for your Mexican friend. It’s been a while, but I still remember my first atempt to the top. It was nothing close to anything I had before.

The Northwestern ledge led the way to Bernal’s summit. That old, poor secured route better known as ‘El Filo’ (The Edge) tought me the hard way why the rock must be respected.

I was 19, the youngest of a party of five (Jorge, Temo, Poncho, Mel and I), had the strongest arms in team, and explosive leg power. I was cocky and extremely confident. I was everything but experienced. Poor footwork and lack of patience in the second pitch gave me my first fall. A memorable fall known among friends as ‘el vuelo del zorro’ (the flight of the fox).

‘El Filo’ used to be a tricky route: you free climbed a 30 metre rock before jumping –literally- to mount onto the north face of Bernal. You couldn’t help it but feeling on top of the world after that. Not exactly the best thing for a freshman before attempting one of the most dangeous moves from any sport route in Bernal.

A pitch after, the infamous ‘Z’ –a part of the rock that HAS to be zig-zaged no matter what- secretely awaited for you. The ‘Z’ is the official point of no return. Once mounted on it, there is no way you can safely rappel down.

I never read the ‘Z’ correctly, I was quick to use my arms thinking they would get me out. I never realized footwork was the key. ‘De ladito y de reversa’ (backwards and sideways) my friend Poncho yelled at me.’How stupid is that’ I thought… so kept muscling myself up. I fell 6 metres just over a cactus and crushed my shoulders against the sidewall. After reincorporating in front of Mel’s look of incredulity, I tried to muscle myself again –no backpack this time.

Second fall in the same move. Second visit to the cactus. Second time my back and shoulders suffered the same hit. It had been so hard that even being 60 metres above my head, Jorge could hear it. The result: two broken ribs, a dislocated hips and a huge contusion in my back.

Next Saturday will be different: Neither Ryan or myself depend on pure strength, we just can’t! I’m fat and heavy. Our climbing style is clearly based on footwork and grip power. Which is better, makes us more patient.

The most interesting part is the fact that this is my first multipitch climb in almost 3 years and the first with Mr. Roberts. Should be fun. My favourite playground raises 400 meters above the ground and is waiting for me.