An impending electrical storm, unexpected steep snow and a night in an emergency shelter. We learnt some important lessons the hard way when our ascent of Via Ferrata Pisciadù went horribly wrong. This is how a ‘chilled day in the Dolomites’ turned into a 30 hour expedition. 

What is a Via Ferrata?

A via ferrata (known as Klettersteig in German) is a protected climbing route, found mostly within the Alps. The protection normally consists of a steel cable running along the route, which is periodically fixed to the rock. Climbers secure themselves to this cable to protect against falls using a via ferrata kit. Via ferrata were popularised in the First World War, when several were built in the Dolomites, Italy. Steel cables and ladders were affixed to rock faces to help troops ascend steep faces and traverse at high altitude.

Via ferrata are a good way for those who are new to climbing to put their scrambling experience into practice without having to place gear or use ropes. They are also a super fun way for proficient climbers and mountaineers to train in a slightly lower risk environment and to ascend ridges and peaks without being lumbered down by all their climbing gear.

 

Nightmare on Via Ferrata Pisciadù

On a recent climbing trip to the French Alps and the Dolomites, we decided to have a less intense day of climbing by doing a via ferrata. My best friend, Amira, was visiting us. Amira was my very first rock climbing buddy – we joined the university climbing club together as novices and battled through our respective fears together. Amira was also with Tom and I when we did our first via ferrata in the Dolomites two years before!

However, whilst I had gotten more and more involved in climbing and mountaineering throughout and after university, Amira hadn’t been climbing for quite a while. We reasoned that a via ferrata would be a great opportunity for her to ease back into it all.

   

Planning and Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance

We deliberately chose a ‘low altitude’ option from the via ferrata guide book we had purchased, because it was still early in the season and we didn’t want to encounter any snow on the route. Our chosen route was Brigata Tridentina, or Via Ferrata Pisciadù. This route is famous for the wonderful backdrop it provides, the interesting climbing passages and the picturesque suspension bridge near the top. The full ascent and descent time was listed as 5 hours; we were considering this a rest day!

We checked the weather forecast and were delighted to discover that the stormy weather of the past week was going to finally transform into the start of summer. It was set to be a windless and sunny day.

   

Departure

We arrive at the car park which is nestled beneath majestic Dolomite peaks. There is still some snow towards the top of the mountains (which we expected) but we are reassured by the fact that our route is ‘low altitude’. We grab our bags and start the short access walk to the start of the via ferrata.

About an hour into the expedition we start encountering large patches of snow on the areas between the climbing sections. I voice my concerns about continuing, but we agree that we will carry on for a while longer. The vast majority of the actual climb bypasses the snow as it follows a rocky snow-free ridge.

   

Dramatic Views

The climbing on the main section of via ferrata is sustained and steep, but still fairly easy. The route is graded as a 3B on the Fletcher/Smith scale, and a D on the Hofler/Werner scale. The continuous exposure and beautiful views make the fun climbing even more rewarding. 

However, as we ascend higher and higher along the vertical rock face, we begin to realise that the ‘low altitude’ label is a load of crap…

 

Disaster

As we get towards the top of the mountain, the weather suddenly starts to turn. Thick black clouds appear, it starts to rain and we hear the ominous sounds of thunderstorms in the distance. Needless to say, being attached to metal cables at altitude with the prospect of lightning is a bad idea. But at this stage, we are towards the top of the via ferrata. Continuing up is both the quicker and safer option. I can feel the lightning in the air. The hairs on my arms are standing rigid and my head looks like someone had rubbed a balloon on it. We speed up our climbing in order to get to the top of the mountain, and the Rifugio Pisciadù (mountain hut) where we can warm up, before making the easy descent through the Val Mezdì couloir.

At this point we are very wet. Luckily, we all brought waterproof jackets despite the optimistic weather forecast. However, the wind has pushed the rain through all openings and seams. My bare legs are cold, but I decide to wait until we get to the hut to change into the long leggings I brought.

 

Denial

We finally get to the highlight of the via ferrata: the shaky suspension bridge that hangs above the gap between the mountain and the enormous pillar of rock we had just climbed. We are only a 10 minute walk away from the mountain hut, and we temporarily forget about the encroaching fog to enjoy walking over the gaping chasm.

At the top of the mountain we are greeted by hip deep snow! The cloud comes in and we find ourselves in a complete whiteout. The signs that we are meant to be following, which are marked on the rocks, are all completely buried under snow.

Our feet are saturated and starting to get very cold. Snow has gotten in through the tops of our boots and melted. The temperature drops. The storm is still brewing and every few minutes we jump as a thunderclap crashes through the mountains.

After nearly an hour of rambling around on the large, flat, featureless plateau we finally find the Rifugio. The main hut is shut, but the emergency winter room is open. We huddle inside and discuss our options: stay the night in the hut or continue on to the descent? We decide to continue on to the descent, as we have just enough daylight left to make the 2 hour trip.

  

Decisions

Eventually, we find the route down. After around an hour of slow plodding through snow, the route suddenly steepens. We must descend a steep snow slope in order to reach a short via ferrata section which leads to the more gentle descent walk. This is the kind of slope that we would comfortably descend without protection with ice axes and crampons, but we don’t have any mountaineering gear with us. Another decision point: continue or go back up to the Rifugio?

We decide to go down the slope. It is starting to get dark and we are unbelievably cold. After all, it’s only a very short distance to the safety of the via ferrata where we can secure ourselves to the cable.

After some slow progress kicking steps in the snow and looking desperately in the fog for any signs of a cable, we reach the via ferrata. The cables are all completely submerged in the snow. We can’t clip in. 

  

Danger

At this point, the slope gets even steeper.  We can’t see more than 5 metres because of the fog, but we know from our map that this section is around 70 degrees. At this angle, a single slip would be fatal. We finally make the decision to turn back. A cold night spent with no food in the Rifugio is infinitely better than committing to something so dangerous. Besides, the air is now buzzing with electricity and we need to seek shelter from the lightning storm.

We head back up the snow slope, using the steps that we already kicked in. Our hands are wet and frozen, as we have to plunge them into the snow to act as makeshift ice axes. We finally find our way back to the Rifugio by following our footsteps from earlier. We are safe in the knowledge that they are our footsteps – no other person has been stupid enough to come up the mountain any time recently!

  

A Cold, Cold Night

We rush into the emergency winter room. Dangerously cold by now, we wrap up in the blankets that are thankfully supplied on the bunk beds. We commit to spending the night there and ration out the remaining pieces of chocolate (4 small squares each). I curse Tom for losing his bag of trail mix somewhere along the route! Amira and I huddle together beneath layers of blankets, desperately trying to warm up. Tom isn’t feeling the cold as badly, so volunteers to go outside and collect water from a small melt-water stream that we passed previously.

After warming up slightly, we talk and realise that we will not be able to descend the way we had planned. Even in daylight and good conditions, the via ferrata is buried and the slope is too steep to go down without protection.

We are delighted to find that we have phone signal. Amira rings the Italian Mountain Guides. I am glad to have an Italian speaking member of the party! She tells them that we are fine, but that we don’t know how to get down in the morning as the descent route is impassable. The guide tells her it’s a good job we don’t need rescuing as the Mountain Rescue Service is currently shut!. He tells her that the only way down is back down the via ferrata we originally ascended. The only way down any of the snow slopes is by backcountry skiing.

The three of us huddle together on the top row of bunk beds. The emergency room is freezing; our breath lingers in the air. We leave on as much clothing as we can stand, so that it stands a chance at drying out before the morning. Eventually, we warm up enough to go to sleep. 

   

An Even Colder Morning

We arise at first light and are delighted to find that the fog has cleared. Putting on our frozen boots and socks, we can’t wait to get moving so we can warm up in the rising sun.

We make our way back to the via ferrata with ease. This particular via ferrata goes up an almost-sheer cliff face, so it is intended to be unidirectional: uphill only! The descent is challenging. The driving rain from the day before has made the rock slick and slippy. Amira struggles particularly. She is already shaken up from the experience the day before, and is physically exhausted, mentally drained and hungry. Some sections of the descent are sketchy enough to scare me, but I know that we have no other choice but to continue down. I try to stay calm because I know that Amira will only panic more if she sees that I am nervous. 

Along the way, we miraculously find Tom’s lost trail mix sitting on a ledge! We ravenously devour the meagre contents of the bag, but it does little to fill our achingly empty stomachs.

Despair

The descent seems to get steeper and steeper. The snowy patches that were difficult and annoying on the ascent are now dangerous and terrifying. Tom and I lead these sections, kicking steps for Amira to follow. It feels like we have been going for days. We finally reach the bottom of a long steel ladder and find ourselves amongst the pines of Val Badia. I know that there is another section of via ferrata that will take us back to the car. However, we are not enthused about spending another 2 hours on the frozen, cold cables. 

The map shows that there are gulleys streaking the rock face, leading to the main valley. We spot one that looks gentle enough to easily walk down, and set off glissading down the wet snow. 

About halfway down the gulley, we come to yet another sheer drop. This drop had been obscured from our vantage point, and was not big enough to be clear on the map. The drop would require at least a 30 metre abseil to pass, and we have no ropes. Dismayed, we slog back uphill to re-join the path we had just left. We clip in to the next set of cables and, zombie-like, methodically move our clips from one cable to another. Finally, 6 hours after leaving the Rifugio, we are back at the safety of the car.

   

The Nightmare Isn’t Over!

We start driving back to our AirBnB, which we were meant to check out of that morning. Despite our early start, it is already 1pm; two hours past check-out time. I try to contact the lovely lady that is hosting us, but don’t have enough cellular data to message her on AirBnB. We are rehearsing what we are going to say to her when I get a phone call. It’s a Carabinieri detective from the Italian police force!

Our AirBnB host had contacted the police as she knew we were going out into the mountains and realised we still hadn’t come back when we missed check-out. The Carabinieri had come around to the house and gone through the stuff in our room to find my mobile number!

I was absolutely mortified and started to panic, thinking we would be in trouble for wasting police time. Thankfully, they were just glad that we are alive and well. Our AirBnB host even hugged us all when we finally got back to the house.

   

Lessons Learnt

This experience was a steep learning curve for Tom and I. Having to accept that we made mistakes and bad decisions is not easy, but it’s hugely important for our development as mountaineers. 

Things We Did Wrong:

• Relying solely on our out-dated via ferrata guidebook. Extra research would have told us that the ‘low altitude’ option in fact went up to 2,583m! 
• Trusting the weather forecast and travelling ‘fast and light’. I seriously regretted wearing shorts and summer boots as soon as we encountered the first patch of snow! My frost-nipped fingers were a suitable punishment for not bringing gloves. 
• Not turning back when we realised how much snow there was. We should have realised that it would only get worse. We fell into the heuristic trap of ‘over-commitment to a goal’.
• Trying to find a shortcut back down to the valley. An easy mistake to make, but a costly one. Spending an extra hour and a half hiking through deep snow knocked out the last of our energy reserves. 

Things We Did Right:

• Keeping Amira as our priority. As she was the least experienced member of the group, Tom and I were careful to do everything we could to keep her safe and happy. 
• Deciding to stay the night in the emergency hut. This decision should have been made sooner, but it was the best decision of the day!
• Calling the mountain guides. I am so glad we had the foresight to plan our descent route the night before. If we hadn’t have contacted the guides, we may have wasted hours trying other ways down.