Getting Schooled in Cochamó

Getting Schooled in Cochamó

As a climber one experiences the excitement, awe, and overwhelming feeling of a first day at school when first stepping into la junta meadow in the valley of Cochamó. Chelsea's initial feeling was that she had entered a climbing playschool. The horse packer had carried all the toys up the trail, a zip line ride to cross the river, waterslide waterfalls, a book of drawn cartoonish topos and maps to follow, endless fresh pizzas, the happy tinkle of climbing gear in the air, and glowing white granite towering above in all directions. The month long personal climbing course that this gringa had entered, though, became far from fun and games. In reality Cochamó is climbing college and she was about to be schooled. Little did she know what a rollercoaster of emotions fueled by the overwhelming potential energies of the valley the next month would be.

Energia de gente

Paul and Chelsea cross the Cochamó river making their way to the refugio cochamó to meet their maestros, Dr. Daniel and Silvina. The newly built refugio is a beautiful wooden home yet to be weathered by the wild surroundings. The backyard slackline and drying ropes on the porch give the refugio a welcoming climber´s touch. Daniel and his wife Silvina have spent the past five summer seasons in this granite wonderland at first running the meadow campground and this year expanding to the posh refugio. The young ambitious energy of this young couple is contagious and inspiring. Any stranger walking through the door is immediately welcomed as long lost friends the hosts have been awaiting. Dr. Daniel is quick to recruit and inspire newly arrived climbing disciples. He gives his tour from the front deck with the spotting scope.

"Over here is the route Camp Farm that you should start out on, and then move on to this climb Todos los Tocamos, and then look here at a party halfway up Trinidad on the route Bienvenidos a mi Insomnia, and then look here at the Swiss party camped out halfway up Capicua on the first free attempt, and then over here......" He becomes more animated with every "Oooh Ahhh" that they give and continues on spraying climbing beta in every direction. Paul and Chelsea are instantly inspired and giddy with all the surrounding possibilities . Daniel then hands them the Cochamó climbing text book with a loud thud on the table. They open it to find themselves buried in page after page of hand scrawled topos in english and spanish to decipher. The deeper they dig into the book the more intimidated they become as if opening the calculus book before the final exam. Few climbs are under 8 pitches, 5.10d, free, and less than 2.5 hours to approach on jungle trails. It quickly became clear that Cochamó instructs go big or go home.

Crossing the meadow with the heavy gear Chelsea nearly trips staring at the 950 meters of Trinidad´s stunning granite. There was the goal before their eyes at last. Even before arriving the gringos had established that the 20 pitch free route Bienvenidos a mi Insomnia reaching the top of Trinidad would be a goal. Despite climbing for a month in the Frey, they felt intimidated by the length and sustained climbing of the route.

Andrea, Paul, and Chelsea cross La Junta river to squat on the free camping for the next month in campo cerdo in hope that the landowner does not make a rare visit. Immediately Chelsea feels at home in the privacy of the little forest opening surrounded by the sound of the nearby waterfall and bird chorus. The peace is broken with the sound of loud gringo bantering in the neighboring forest opening. Chelsea walks over curious to what the gringo party is about. The three obvious climber dudes are drinking wine and gathered around a cut up cereal box.

"Hola vecinos gringos.....how long have you been in Cochamó paradise?"

"About a month. How long are you here for?"

As they run through the usual small talk, Chelsea begins to sense a strange familiarity in two of the guys and suddenly an epiphany."Wait...are you two from Arizona?"

"Yeah......?"

"I totally climbed with you one random day in Indian Creek last spring!"

"Holy cow! You are Chelsea. We totally were thinking about that day with the random blizzard at the top of Bridger Jack with you."

"Like minds go to like places!"Chelsea take a seat psyched at her luck to run into the friendly goofball Arizonians Eric and Zack once again on the other side of the world.

"What are you working on there?" Chelsea points to the quaker oats box.

"Check it out. It is our new route yet to be named!"

"Let´s stick with Flakes of Wrath. You won´t get the name until you do the last rappel."

She takes a look at the eight pitches of Flakes of Wrath 5.11 up high on the escudo wall. Despite being desert Arizonian goofballs, it was clear these boys were going big and excelling in Cochamó. Finding their energy and stories super inspiring the gringa barrages them with beta questions.

"Don´t bushwhack. If you lose the trail, immediately retreat. Buy rain gumboots in town. If you see a spot for gear mined in the crack, you are probably on route. Find your own route since there is so much open rock and you will probably get off route anyway."

That night Chelsea can hardly sleep with a head filled with all the beta and energy from the Cochamó climbing community. With so much rock and so much to climb it suddenly seems like a month is not enough.

The typical Cochamó morning begins by rolling over in the sleeping bag to light the morning´s tea. By the time the sun creeps over the canyon walls and dapples the tarp roof, Chelsea is recharged and ready to roll out of the cocoon. As the morning shadows shrink, Chelsea struggles to contain her growing neurotic anxiety.

Lesson 1: How to overcome the neurotic energy built up inside after talking with other climbers and staring for hours at the hypnotic granite face of Trinidad.

The first week in Cochamó has been dedicated to the few valley accessed climbs and hanging out with Andrea, Paul´s special polola. The rare female company is a treat and Chelsea does not wish to scare her off with neurotic climbing pressure. Luckily Andrea is an angel and does not mind when Paul and Chelsea take off for afternoon climbs and has endless patience as they attempt to improve their gringo spanish. The afternoon valley climbs serve to boost their confidence in pursuing Trinidad. Having done the route in 10 hours, the AZ boys drop beta bits and encourage them to go for Bienvenidos a mi Insomnia.

"Perhaps we can nail Bienvenidos first try."

"Yeah, we should just go for it all out first try."

When Paul returns from escorting his Chilean lady from the jungle, Chelsea has already escorted the gear up to the Trinidad bivy. 40% showers the forcast predicts. Chelsea´s theory is that there will always be a chance of showers in Cochamó and the risk of rapping in the rain must be taken in order to finish any climbs.

"Let´s go for it and make a weather call before committing too far up."

Paul worries and wavers in limbo over the 40% sending him into a spiral of contingency plans and theories delaying them further and driving "miss decisive" nuts. Eventually Paul´s long pondering brings him to the same page as Chelsea.

"Okay, let´s go for it and make a call before committing too high."

Lesson 2: How to overcome doubt. Cochamó challenges one´s commitment and leaves one always doubting weather, skill, speed, protection, footing, holds, route, etc.

That night in the bivy staring up at the rising granite wall Chesea is able to dispell any lingering doubt and is charged with confidence for the next day. The route´s name becomes apparent as the night hours tick by leaving Chelsea sleepless and ready to climb. The blinding full moon only feeds the insomnia and eventual sleep only brings strange paranoid dreams about not waking with the alarm and not being able to poo in the morning. Barely awake they begin scrambling before sunrise and it is not until after the first 5.11a wake up call on pitch 3 that they awake.

"Can I have a glance at the topo?"
"Don´t you have it?"
"Uh, no!?"

They remain calm and try not to be disheartened with the thought of navigating the next 17 pitches in a sea of granite guided only by instinct and memory. Time is a precious commodity and their climbing style immediately goes to the dumps. Once one begins pulling on draws on slab it is hard to stop. After leading the 5.11 slab traverse utilizing tension traverses and french free technique, Chelsea realizes that the crux is probably following it. Chelsea discovers her crux further up in the dihedral far above her last piece pumped and struggling to place the few small pieces left in a large flake. Finally a nut seems to stick. "Whew...take a minute." She leans back to relieve the aching arms when the pesky little nut pops and she nearly misses grabbing the flake once again. Paul begins to contemplate rescue scenarios as she plugs another marginal piece in and charges on before peeling off once more.

"F**k, B***c, G**D***!" Paul exclaims somewhere deep into a heady pitch struggling with the right gear to place. So much for his resolution to stop cursing when climbing. At the top of pitch 11 they are through the meat of the hard pitches. The bruising and bleeding have long set in. In racking their dehydrated brains to recall the next nine pitches to the top, they are somehow convinced that an offwidth to the left is not the offwidth to the left they are looking for, and manage to find another on the next pitch that leads to an awesome off route clean hands dihedral crack that leads to the top. They are treated at the top to the reverse views seen from the Frey summits. Tronodor´s glaciers are glowing pink in the sunset, the Frey spires are lit up on the far horizon, the full moon is rising, and the rising clouds give it all a magical feel that is also augmented by a dehydration euphoria. Unfortunately what goes up 950 meters of granite must come down 950 meters of granite. A long moonlit search yields a sparse trail of cairns taking them down the backside gully. At last after hours of cairn hunting, rappelling, and slogging down the loose gully from hell, and playing with the echos, they are spit out back at the bivy site 19 or so hours after the first touch of granite.

The next morning Chelsea awakes scared to move. The knees feel like rusty hinges, the hands are swollen clubs, and shoulders feel like burning knots. While the body is far from happy, the mind wants to conquer all. After the dreaded steep slip and slide back down to the valley the neurotic Chelsea is finally satisfied and content to sleep in and vegetate in the passing sun.

Energia del Agua:

Paul is slow to rise the second morning after the climb. A shoulder pain left him sleepless in agony all night. Chelsea throws pain killers at him hoping it is a simple muscle soreness, but Paul is worried. It is a familiar pain he recognizes as an injured rotater cuff. Chelsea´s bruises and bloody ankles recover, but Paul´s shoulder only becomes worse. As if sensing their emotional vulnerability the weather moves in threatening rain. When the clouds break they consider themselves lucky to be under the trusty tarp, but as the long afternoons of rain drag on they begin to cramp and fester under the 10 by 8 foot dry island.

It is in these environments that one can feel the power of water through all the senses. The soft chatter of the water slides grows to a roar, the canal like trails flood, and la Junta becomes impassible. The only sound is water. Pattering the tarp, gushing down la junta, tumbling down the rock faces. It is an overwhelming energy that humbles the climbers cowered under cover. In this part of the world water rules and it is no wonder that Chile wants to harness this energy to power the growing southern cities. In December 2008 a company owning the water rights in the valley petitioned to put a series of dams and hydro plants up la junta and cochamó. The implications of such a venture are terrifying. Property owners such as Daniel and Silvina could be expedited, roads could be built to Argentina, la junta could be replaced with piping, and the Cochamó would be a series of reservoirs and hydro plants. No more public access and no more climbing. Just the idea of this makes one question humanities worth when measured against a place of such natural beauty. From a climber´s biased perspective the energy is best expended going down the water slides of la junta than through a hydro plant.

After losing the millionth game of speed to Paul and making a large dent in Amor en el Tiempo de Cholera, Chelsea is left cramped and dismally bored under the tarp. Paul shares similar feelings judging from the moaning and cursing that breaks the monotonous rain patter. Paul breaks into another random song like some broken jukebox. Chelsea's mind wanders to dreary topics. "What is possessing me to travel to the other hemisphere hauling a backbreaking load of gear to spend most of my time hiking or sitting idle waiting for the chance to spend a fleeting moment bruising and bloodying myself on the most difficult way to reach the summit of some large chunk of granite?" She ponders.

"As an addict to climbing, do you think our addictive behavior is worse than a substance abuser? We put ourselves in positions that can be far more deadly and risky than drugs." Paul ponders.

"Hmmm...climbing does seem to do more harm than good to my body, it costs a lot of money, one is never satisfied with just a small rack of cams, and at times loved ones are abandoned or negatively affected by our climbing. But over all I would argue that the climbing addiction is beneficial in that it keeps one active and fit, takes one to amazing places meeting amazing new people, challenges the mind and body to become stronger, builds teamwork, and is generally reflected on with pride."

"For sure. Hmmmmm....say, how about some.....?" He probes with that look Chelsea has come to know too well.

"Cookies!" She confirms. They find momentary comfort and happiness in a package of Milo cookies. They dangerously burn through the ration of cookies showing little restraint as the week wears on. After much deliberation the two climbers decide to descent to the dreaded town together since the cookies are gone and Paul's shoulder is shot. After drying off and stocking up they hope to return to find that fellow gringo friends, Kevin and Gerry, have arrived to meet them in the valley.

An afternoon of eating empanadas, drinking beer, and watching the Simpsons with dry feet is reviving and Chelsea soon begins to long for her metallic cam friends left behind in the valley.

Lesson 3 : Loitering in a refugio and idle hours under a tarp watching rain drip is better than loitering in the Puerto Montt mall and idle hours in a hospedaje watching endless Simpsons.

The weather forecast is not inspiring though. Rain, rain, rain. Chelsea digs deep for a splinter of inspiration, and then finds it in a very unexpected place; fishing. She rushes about to find a collapsible pole to haul up and fill idle rainy hours with. Her father would be so proud. Filled with dreams of fish meals and fishing holes on the Cochamó, Chelsea powers up through the drizzle and mud back to campo cerdo to find good company awaiting under the green tarp.

Now there are six gringos crowded under the tarp. Kevin and Gerry managed to find the two stellar characters, Ben and Lindsey to travel with on the way to Cochamó. The newcomers are all fired up and full of questions about the climbing. Chelsea tries to remain positive and not disheartened, but her honest opinion comes out sounding dreary. Ben and Lindsey, luckily are not easily disheartened. While Chelsea grumbles and doubts dry rock, they are up at the crack of dawn in the hope of climbing something and become stoked about re-climbing the same routes at pared seca. Ben seems to love every minute on the rock wet or dry. Even after losing his hiking boots to the rising waters of the Cochamó, Kevin also is excited to climb and go for it. And Gerry is thrilled to have just enough money to buy at least one of Silvina's pizza marvels every day. Chelsea, though, feels like a hibernating slug waiting for the sun to shine before climbing again. It is one of those rare moments in her life where the inner motivational flame has been snuffed, and only sunshine can light it again. While the newcomers rush up to try to search for rock dry enough to climb, Chelsea wanders to a lonely river pool to try some fishing and find mental salvation. Chelsea is enjoying practicing her casting technique when the unexpected happens. A fish appears from nowhere chasing her lure. "Oh crap, how will I kill it, how will I clean it?" Taken off guard she freezes and does not set the hook hoping the fish will not get caught. Her fisherman dad would not be proud.

Lesson 4:Fishing is a lot like climbing. Most of the energy is spent untangling lines, coaxing stuck hooks loose, and pondering proper gear all for the fleeting moment of reeling a big one in.

The end of the week brings hope for rain relief just as five of the gringo party head out to fly home or continue a journey elsewhere. Gerry organizes the farewell pizza party at the refugio to boost everybody's spirits. Chelsea is further depressed with the prospect of losing the gringo party, but just the little picture of possible sunshine in the days to come on the weather forecast makes her heart hopeful again. Perhaps Cochamó will give her and Kevin another chance in the coming week.

Energia del Sol

Lesson 5 : Sun is a precious resource that should not be squandered in hesitation.

The next morning the sun emerges without a hint of cloud in the sky. Chelsea and Kevin are instantly charged and get to work drying gear before packing it up for an approach. With the sun reflecting off so much lovely granite it is hard to decide where to head with their remaining time. There is a high granite peak that towers just over the valley next to Trinidad. At first it did not seem attractive, but after weeks of gazing up at the highly visible crack systems, the idea of climbing it began to grow on Chelsea. With a name like Milton Adams, though, what did this rock have to offer? The approach is a vertical mud-n-bamboo slog, there are a series of approach pitches to reach the quality looking rock, the few routes feature hard off-widths requiring heavy gear and pain, and Dr. Daniel has not even ventured there. While everybody else seems to be headed to the new Paloma area, poor Milton gets left behind. Kevin and Chelsea though are fueled by the thought of this adventure that few partake in and getting second ascents on the "established" routes. Finally fueled and inspired Chelsea happily huffs and puffs the heavy bag up the steep trail to where their adventure trail splits off into the hacked bamboo thickets. Not five minutes into the adventure trail do they hit the crux; a steep and deep gorge. A fixed line of questionable quality leads down a root and dirt ladder and traverses across a mossy rooted rock. "W.T.F." Thinking that it looks harder than it actually is Chelsea makes her way down with the awkward pack. Despite her high tolerance for sketchiness, she claims the rock traverse over-sketchy. Chelsea scrambles back up to let Keven have a gander. He concurs with the over-sketchiness of the ordeal. They brainstorm ideas and recon a bit further down, but once again Cochamó wins. The climbers surrender and settle for continuing up the worn trail to Trinidad. But as they bask in the setting sun of Trinidad's bottom flanks, there are no regrets. Why go anywhere else? The most aesthetic chunk of granite, the easiest trail, the sweetest bivy, and still endless adventures to find.

As if to test their commitment to climb, Cochamó throws some threatening cloud cover the next day. They settle on climbing the five pitch route up the Gendarme rising above the bivy. Kevin wins the ro-sham-bo and heads up to lead the first pitch. "Ehhhh, I'm not seeing any protection. This crack looks pretty seamed up."

"Welcome to Cochamó. Just keep on going, something will pop up to stick a cam in."Chelsea encourages. She can tell Kevin is climbing more timid than usual but finds him in good spirits at the belay. At the top of the second pitch they have to make a weather call since the next rappel is two more pitches up.

"I'm feeling good about the weather. Things look settled and are not moving too fast. Let's at least go for the next two pitches." Chelsea realizes how much she has missed being on the rock.

Kevin is three pieces into the next lead when Cochamó threatens to prove Chelsea wrong. A thin curtain of rain comes around the bend of the valley, and Chelsea curses herself. "Okay, I'll just follow real fast and charge up this supposed short off-width pitch to the rap anchor before it hits us."

Instead Chelsea finds herself sweating in sunshine up the fun stemming grinding pitch to the rap anchors. She curses Cochamó for playing with her mind. This constant game of Russian rulet with the weather here can be maddening. Just as the two climbers praise the climb and make the first rap, Cochamó throws them another challenge. The red rope falls into a crack hopelessly stuck after much pulling and cursing. Chelsea loses the ro-sham-bo and re-leads to the misbehaved rope. She is terrified to find the rope squeezed deep in the crack. Fearing the fateful cut rope, she sweet talks and works the rope out after a good while. Who would have thought a five pitch climb could be so stressful! Ah, dear Cochamó.

Lesson 6 : One must be ready to adapt to a constantly challenging and changing environment with a light heart.

Sensing the climbing commitment of Kevin and Chelsea, Cochamó finally rewards them the next morning with a blue bird sky. While a first ascent of a Cochamó climb would have been a worthy accomplishment, Chelsea realizes how much time and work would be involved. Instead she is excited to get the second ascent of the AZ boys route, EZ does it. In search of an established route, these guys had accidentally started up a different system and eventually popped out on top with little trouble. Hence the double meaning of the name. It seemed like an ideal opportunity for an adventure that did not require an alpine start and breakneck climbing speed up to the summit views of Trinidad. Plus I knew who to bitch to if the climb stank. What these AZ boys found was a classic Cochamó climb capturing all that this wild valley has to offer. The scramble approach, the occasional slippery slab move, seamed up cracks, thought provoking gear placements, the dreamy clean splitter pitch, wet chimneys and roofs, condor patrol, and just fear provoking enough to leave one psyched to have reached the summit. By reaching the summit BEFORE dark we are treated to a 360 Andes view that leaves no doubt to the worth of all that trouble to reach it. Once again Chelsea has fallen under the spell of Cochamó.

"I feel no need to ever descend this gully from hell again!" Chelsea declares finally reaching the trail back to the bivy in the dark. This statement sounds familiar, though, since she said it a few weeks ago on the first night descent.

Lesson 7 : A selective memory serves a climber well.

Upon return to the refugio Daniel is excited to hear what they think of the new climb and then tries to sell them on another new climb raving about the views, the moves, etc. His love and motivation in Cochamó is highly contagious and if were not for eminent plane departures one could be entrapped forever in the love/hate relationship with Cochamó.

Even now as she descends the valley through ankle deep manure mud with a debilitating load, the temporary memories of rain, dirty sketchy cracks, steep jungle trails, leaches, and wet feet are fading with the sun and the resilient memories of people, summits, clean continuous cracks, condors, and manjar shine like metallic coins. It is these shiny memories that will someday lure her back to Cochamó. There are still many lessons to be learned. cochamo.com

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