We arrived in Cusco full of excitement and immediately discovered that altitude made things more challenging. Upon arrival, Alex mentioned that the accommodation he found was such a bargain, as it required at least 150 steps to get to. We lugged up all our bags, rammed full of bolts, gear and ropes with tingling fingers and toes, definitely feeling a little more out of breath than normal. We were told to take the first couple of days easy and allow ourselves to acclimatise.
Naturally, we arrived during the Inti Raymi festival at winter solstice and spent our second night dancing in the centre of Cusco until the early hours, before returning to find the “bargain” accommodation Alex found flooded with brown water, resulting in a frantic clean-up mission. Probably not exactly what the acclimatisation advice meant, but it felt like a pretty good introduction to Peru.
Full of excitement and apprehension, we spent the next day getting to Pitumarca from Cusco on a bus, arriving late, before seven of us somehow crammed into one taxi for the last 30 minutes up a dirt track. Despite having very little window space, I could immediately see huge amounts of rock and an abundance of imposing lines on beautiful streaky limestone towering over the valley.
The existing climbing was already well established, with local climbers having developed a number of sectors and having done an amazing job setting up eco toilets and signage to some of the popular crags. The area was clearly taken care of, and thought had gone into the future of climbing in the area. It was clear just from hiking for a day that there was vast potential for further development in the valley on some incredible looking lines.
On the first day climbing, I was surprised to onsight an endurance 8a. The following day, however, a small 8a+ power endurance number absolutely destroyed me, and I fell off the end and was unable to talk as I was so out of breath. There was also a strange onset of pump, which left your arms feeling like they were being squeezed by a boa constrictor. A stark awakening into how altitude would affect the climbing and different energy systems.
Over the following days and weeks, things gradually started to feel more normal. The acclimatisation was incredible to experience, approaches that felt hard and sections of climbing that left you panting like a dog started to feel like normal again. The altitude affects never completely disappeared, though, and everything felt a little harder, including recovery. Coca leaves became a personal saviour for the group and I, we enjoyed them with coffee in the mornings.
Enjoying Coca Leaves and Coffee in the morning.
We started with repeating established classics, including The Power of the Cusquanya Negra 8c (power of the stout),this also transpired to be the group's favourite beer and felt fitting for one of our first routes in the area. Shortly after climbing this, our attention turned towards the open projects and potential new lines around the existing sectors.
Cusqueña negra 8c, photo by Malik Schirawski.
One of the things I loved about Pitumarca was the open project culture. Local and travelling climbers had bolted and named routes because they saw the potential, leaving the climbing to whoever was psyched.
Early in the trip, Malik had established an 8b+ called Dutch Aso, an open project bolted by Coco, featuring a pair of brilliant twin tufas, strangely similar to First Round First Minute. I was lucky enough to make the second ascent.
Josh and Malik made the first ascent of Machos Reseteados (8b+), which extends the classic Más Duro Que Mi Polla (8a+). The extension can also be reached from the direct 7c+ entrance, Pichula Paso Satánico, and I climbed it that way to give Pichula Paso Final (8b). The extension was superb, with tufa to smash up eventually giving way to a much crimpier sequence on grey rock, making for a brilliant combination of styles. This became our first taste of first ascending in Pitumarca, and we kicked things off with three first ascents in roughly an hour.
After this, we were all keen to get some bolts in the wall! We had all seen lines/ sectors we were psyched on, Alex and Rob took on the challenge of bolting Inkaq Watch'in, one of the best-looking lines in the valley, while Owain developed what would become Coughing Dragon, named after his endless coughing fits for the entire trip. Meanwhile, Malik, Josh and I started equipping a sector high up the valley with some imposing features. Walking up, it was impossible not to notice: high above the valley was a huge square-cut prow, with a striking overhanging tufa arete and an incredible backdrop across the Andes.
It looked like one of those features you look at, and it is just asking to be climbed. After seeing it, all I wanted to do was get up there and get amongst it, and so a few days after first spotting it, I made the long walk around the back of the hill to reach the top. After abseiling over the edge it was immediately obvious it was going to be a corker. The three of us – Malik, Josh and I – gradually started to work our way down the wall. I was going down the arête, which later became Café y Coca; Malik was finding his way down the middle of the streaky wall, which later became Canción Del Cuy 9a, and Josh worked his way down the streak on the right, which remains a project. As we were bolting, rain started hammering down. Hail and dust were blowing everywhere, so we wrapped the drills in bags and carried on as best we could. Then, looking out across the valley, we got an incredible view of rainbows stretching over the Andes.
The first line, Café y Coca, followed the arete. It was immediately obvious that it was going to be special. Bullet-grey rock formed strange tufa-like features on the overhanging arete, with the line climbing directly above the valley. Abseiling down it, I knew it was something I hadn't encountered before, and thankfully, it climbed as well as it looked: A sustained 8a+ lead up to a stance on a tufa, where you can finally catch your breath before attacking a compression boulder to finish.
The route to the right became Canción del Cuy, named after the guinea pigs at the local president's farm. They were incredibly cute, though a little less cute once we learnt that cuy is also a local delicacy, and he cooked us some. It was tasty, if a bit involved, a bit like the route: a sustained 7c leading into a complex 8A+ boulder problem, then a sharp, low-percentage 8b finish. The whole thing was touch-and-go. On the successful attempt, I somehow held it together through the boulder and into the final section, and by the time I clipped the chains I was completely boxed and feeling sick from the boa constrictor pump issue. At 4,500m, Canción del Cuy became the highest altitude 9a in the world and the first 9a in Peru.
Credit to Malik, who worked out the complex sequence around the tufa. It's one of those sequences where the coolest looking way of climbing the feature somehow turns out to be the easiest. It was brilliant being up there on the hanging belay as a three, piecing it all together and sharing psyche and burns. We ended many days by lowering off after a final burn in the beautiful sunset, and abbing off the belay in the dark to start the walk down the hill. This happened on the day that Alex had a burn on his final day with two split tips and many days on, and fell off right at the top in the pitch black; all I saw was a head torch flying towards me on the ledge as he fluffed the final few moves with blood from his fingertips pooling in the crimps at the top.
canción del cuy 9a, photo by Malik Schirawski
One of the best parts of the whole trip was that none of these routes really felt like they belonged to one person. We chose to treat the new routes as team first ascents. We were all climbing them in proximity, sharing attempts, beta and motivation, as well as helping with bolting and cleaning. That felt much more representative of how the routes actually came together. Eventually, someone manages to link everything together, but it's all down to the team effort of figuring out beta, cleaning, bolting ect. This felt like a really nice way to go about things and made for the best experience.
The same was true on two more open projects we made the team first ascent of, including Reach for the Sheep (8c) and There Is Always Something (8c+). Reach for the Sheep is an especially proud line, climbing a prow that hangs over the valley. Two distinct boulders are separated by a shake, with a powerful first section leading into a sustained upper wall. There Is Always Something is another striking line which is impossible to ignore from across the valley. Looking over from the other side, you can see the perfect streak splitting the wall in two.
The lower section is sustained and crimpy on bullet rock before easing onto a slab and a rest. From there, the route builds towards the upper crux, revolving around a technical knee and a huge roll-over. Watching everyone work these routes and spill their brains out on red point was as rewarding as climbing them myself.
The local community also made a huge impression on all of us. We spent six weeks sharing the valley with people who were incredibly welcoming, and some of the best memories had nothing to do with climbing. We watched the daily procession of llamas heading up the track while drinking morning coffee, learnt how to cook local potatoes in a traditional watia mud oven, and would bounce down the dirt track to get food in the local small tractor. The climbing wouldn't have been possible without the local community, and I'm hugely grateful to Coco and everyone else who made us feel so welcome.
Before the trip, we had no real idea what Pitumarca would offer. Four weeks later, we left with new routes, open projects, and a completely different appreciation of the local culture and of climbing at altitude; we got a feel for what made the area special. Pitumarca is an incredible place, both for the climbing and everything beyond it. I hope the area continues to develop in a way sustainable for climbers, the community and culture.
Walking into an undeveloped sector, seeing a line, bolting it, falling off it, working out the moves, watching your friends try it, sharing beta, and eventually seeing the route come together is what makes development so addictive, and doing all of that with such a psyched group of friends made it even better.
Following the month we spent here, it was great to have a slightly different change of pace and spend a few weeks exploring other areas in Peru and relaxing a bit, appreciating some of the other landscapes with longer hikes and some other bits and bobs. It was nice to explore surrounding areas to Huaraz and spend time climbing in areas including Hutan Machay which is an amazing stone forrest of volcanic rock. Edu marin made the first ascent of a brilliant route through a cave, was very unique and incredible good quality rock, especially considering how steep it was. It became vacaciones en Singapur, the second 9a in Peru. I was happy to climb Tres Letches 8c+ near Huaraz, which was a nice change of pace, spending chill afternoons here by the river from Huaraz.
