At the start of 2006 I had never been climbing in the Wilder Kaiser. I knew vaguely about the famous summits above the Stripsenjoch - the Fleischbank, the Predigstuhl and the Totenkirchl - but while I had been skiing in Elmau three years earlier, I had never really wondered what there is to climb on the southern edge of the Wilder Kaiser. However, Mario Senke had a rare weekend free, and, following a less than successful but not quickly to be forgotten Easter trip to Arco, I was keen for the season to start properly. Arnaud Richel mentioned that he was planning something near Scheffau, and he knew a route there which would be just right for me, the Via Romantica on the Kopfkraxe, fifteen pitches up to VI+.
We left Munich fairly early, driving past a group of girls on their way home from the disco in their "war paint", as Mario put it. We were out of the car before seven and were half way up the 900 (vertical) meter approach in a mixture of snow and dwarf pines when Arnaud and his climbing partner came steaming past us. Arnaud represented his country at rugby in the under-18 side, so I just have to get used to the fact that he is faster than I am when it comes to walking up and down hills. By about nine we were sitting on a small Bergschrund looking at the first nice shiny bolt and wondering where the route goes from there.
The route had only been bolted a few years earlier, and the rock was at times more similar to the rougher bits of Pembroke than the Avon Gorge. Polish certainly wasn't a problem. According to the topo the harder pitches should be lower down, and it was certainly nice to think of having the VI+ pitch out of the way soon and not waiting for us at the top.
The VI+ pitch, when it came, was certainly tricky enough, and I didn't get up it first try. However, it was something of a one-move wonder, up an unpleasant overhanging flaring crack. A bit more fun further up was a lay-back flake which swallowed my Camalot 3 quickly and would have taken my Friend 4 just as fast if I had had it with me.
In between the pitches were often scree- or grass-covered ledges. The line, too, seemed somehow more like an artificial attempt to link sections of climbable rock together than a skillful tracing of the easiest way through an otherwise holdless rock face. However, the climbing was still fairly enjoyable. About midday it was pleasantly sunny and we heard an avalanche come down the cirque below us. Arnaud told me the following week that this avalanche had run over their approach tracks and almost covered their rucksacks, which they had left at the bottom of their climb.
Further up came a wide flaring crack, innocuously graded V+ in the topo. It was Mario's lead, and after looking at it I looked forward to some entertainment while watching him get up it. The entertainment was dissappointingly short-lived, however, since after several brave attempts he declared that I was going to have lead this pitch, which wasn't what I wanted at all.
After my first try it was clear why he didn't want to do it. It was short on holds and not long on protection, and after trying to inch and struggle my way up it I didn't want to do it either. If this had been a single-pitch route at ground-level I really would have walked away, but the thought of having climbed half-way up this face only to turn round because of an unpleasant rounded crack was just too awful. After considerably more struggling I managed to get some more protection in, and shortly after that I was at the belay and able to look forward to watching Mario climb. At this point the wind got up and it started to snow, which probably made things harder for him, although he was still able bravely to declare that he wouldn't have put in so much gear if it had been his lead. Thankfully the snow stopped again soon, and what had fallen didn't lie.
A few more pitches of not so hard climbing led to a little bowl which still held some old snow. From here a loose pillar of choss led something like 30m upwards and rightwards to a grass col. Unfortunately due to the lead swap this was now my lead, and it just wasn't fun. I did manage to get in a couple of nuts, more for the pleasure of seeing a couple of quickdraws on the rope, as I wouldn't have wanted to lower off them, let alone fall. Thankfully the climbing was only about Severe.
From the grassy col just one more pitch led to the top, of what looked like pleasant grade IV climbing on sold rock, a nice way to finish off the route. I was feeling quite relaxed and not expecting any surprises when Mario fell off without warning and plummeted earthwwards, the rope catching him onlyafter he had landed awkwardly on a rock ledge a few metres below where he had been.
Als ich an Alex vorbeiflog, dachte ich, 'Hmm..., das Seil muss bald straf werden'!"I flew past Alex and thought, 'Hmm, the rope is probably going to come tight quite soon'!" was how Mario later recounted it, on the more than one occasion on which he was to tell this tale. I suppose it is true that I could have given him less slack without impeding his upward progress. For now, however, the more immediate problem was how to get up the climb and down the mountain. Thankfully his ankle did not begin to hurt straight away, and he managed to get up the pitch on his second attempt and made a belay somewhere behind a pile of snow on the top.
With the tension of the route over Mario started to realise that his ankle wasn't quite right. It turned out that the descent was down a snow ridge and then from a col down a broad snow flank back down to the path, and Mario bravely packed more snow around his heel to ease the swelling then set off down. I think that I probably enjoyed the descent more than he did, although I wasn't that keen on the horizontal cracks in the
snow on the broad slope which we descended. As it was we got back down to the car without further event. Plans for a further route the following day were quickly abandoned, and we drove off to the nearest Gasthof for a very welcome beer and warm meal.
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