Trip Report — Cordillera Blanca Part 2 (Artesonraju East Ridge)
Contents of this post:
- Context
- Logistics
- Approach
- Climb & descent
Context
After our successful acclimatization climb up Ishinca, Matt and I decided we felt well enough to try a 6,000-meter peak. We considered a number of options, including a marathonic 12-day trip up Santa Cruz Valley to tackle three peaks. After a very helpful chat with one of the guides at Casa de Guias, we settled on attempting Artesonraju via the East Ridge.
I can only described Artesonraju as an absolutely stunning mountain. Standing at 6,025 meters above sea level, it has a perfect pyramidal profile and sharp, steep slopes guarding the majority of the way up. It’s northwest face serves as the Paramount logo, but, frankly, the south face is even more striking. On a personal note, Artesonraju was my top objective for the trip. I just fell in love with this mountain — its lines, prominence, technical challenges, and just sheer size.
Historically, people have climbed Artesonraju either via its North Ridge (relatively straightforward with only five pitches) or its southeast face (a piece-de-resistance climb with 15-19 pitches of steep ice and snow). Since 2014, however, the southeast face has been out because of both dry conditions and avalanche danger, and this year the north ridge has a massive crevasse near the top that requires some tricky navigation around a rock band. Thankfully, you can also climb the seldom-climbed east ridge. A D-rated route, this requires gaining the glacier as if you were going up the southeast face, cross the ‘schrund and climb some steep terrain to gain the ridge, and then follow the ridge to the top. While at Casa de Guias, we spoke to Wilder, an incredibly helpful guide who had climbed the ridge a couple of weeks ago. Even better, he’d be climbing a day ahead of us, which meant we could count on at least some of his rappel anchors on the way down.
Logistics
Artesonraju has two approaches; one via the Santa Cruz Valley (if you are climbing the North Ridge) and another via Paron Valley (if you are climbing the southeast face or east ridge). Unfortunately, the Paron trail is not donkey friendly, so hiring an arriero to help carry supplies to base camp was not an option. Instead, we decided to hire a porter/cook to help primarily with cooking and, to the extent possible, with carrying a bit of the load. He turned out to be the same arriero we had up Ishinca, and we ended up doing a bit of shopping with him on our “rest” day. We procured fuel and a couple of additional pickets courtesy of Andreas’s hostel, and we were ready to go.
Getting to the Paron trailhead requires steely nerves and a load of patience as you take a taxi for three hours, the last of which is on a poorly-maintained, really dusty road that will lighten up your skin by several tones given Huaraz’s taxi drivers’ inability to close their windows. To make matters even more interesting, our little Toyota Yaris car couldn’t clear certain parts, so we had to get off and walk for a bit. Finally, after about four hours, we got to the trailhead.
A note for climbers: Accessing the Paron trailhead requires crossing a national park checkpoint, at which they will ensure you have a guide with you. If, like us, you don’t have one, then you must show your alpine club card, which magically gives you guide-like climbing powers. Don’t forget the card or you may have trouble getting up.
Approach
The approach starts at 4,250 meters at the edge of Laguna Paron with great views of Piramide and Huandoy Norte. After sorting gear, we took the trail around the left side of the lake. We made great time for the first 45 minutes or so until reaching an overhanging, featureless block going all the way to the lake. We retraced our steps for a bit and found a detour up the grassy slabs, which were quite exposed at times. After aggressively pulling on grass for balance and protection, we made it to the end of the lake. “Base Camp” is right here, but we decided to continue going up for another 300 vertical meters or so to Timber Camp. I highly recommend you do this, as it only adds 45–60 minutes and makes the next day much more manageable. Lastly, Timber Camp is just a lot nicer: Located near a creek, under the trees, and right off the trail. Winning.
Right after walking past base camp, we got our first glimpse of Artesonraju. The sheer size of the mountain just hits you. Only after our summit attempt did we discuss how, when you first look at it, Arteson just looks imposing and impenetrable. Sheer size and beauty. We had an obligatory picture break, and then off we went to Timber camp following a really well-marked trail.
Our stay at Timber Camp was uneventful but for the fact that we realized that our porter/cook had come woefully unprepared and undersupplied — no headlamp, no bowl, no fork, no knife. We scrambled supplies amongst our stuff (OK, mostly Andreas’s and Matt’s) and finished the day with some soup and rice and chicken. We ended the day at ~4,500 meters or so.
The next day saw us leave around 9am for morraine camp (~4,900 meters) on our way to glacier camp. The guidebook suggests you camp at moraine the second day, but in our conversations with Wilder (the guide) he suggested instead to camp on the glacier at the bottom of the route. We made it to morraine camp in no time, again, following a very clear tail with plenty of cairns to lead the way. We loaded on water, and then crossed the camp to descend to the frozen lake and take the glacier. Andreas, Matt and I did this descent on a sketchy slope, only to realize that, if you go further down from moraine camp, you can hit a trail that gets you down to the lake without incident. In fact, if you are coming from Timber Camp, you can make a right turn at the first fork you arrive after gaining the obvious moraine buttress, and then you don’t even need to go to moraine camp.
After crossing a talus field and walking on a ridge, you hit the glacier. Following the guidebook (and the wooden posts) we stuck to the right, which made for smooth sailing for the first half hour, so much so that we neither roped up nor put on boots. At some point, we started hitting some crevasses, so we stopped to rope up and put on crampons/boots, even though we “knew” we only had 10–15 minutes more before glacier camp. Oh boy though! What we were in for! The glacier completely broke up after this point, requiring complex navigation and a fair amount of crevasse climbing. It tooks us close to an hour to clear the crevasse field and arrive at glacier camp. If you are coming up, definitely ignore the guidebook (and the signposts) and stay to the left instead. It will look a bit rocky and steep, which it is, but trust me when I say it’s infinitely better than the right-side alternative.
We arrived at glacier camp at 1pm, surprised to hear that Wilder’s party had not come back yet given that they had left at midnight. After setting up camp and taking a nap, we finally saw them come in at 4pm. I spoke to Wilder, who told us he’d set up ~13–15 rappels, and helpfully pointed out some features to watch out for while climbing. After an early (and not fully satisfying dinner), we were in bed by 7pm targeting a 1:00am departure. One thing to note is that glacier camp had a small water pond, which proved a blessing as it meant we didn’t have to melt snow. Obviously, ymmv, but this is something to consider when deciding where and when to camp.
Based on Andreas’s and my altimeters, we finished the day at ~4,900 meteres.
Climb
Note: Given how little information there is on this route, I’m providing a fair amount of detail on the climb and its conditions. Apologies to the non-climbers reading this.
Alarm went off at midnight, and for some reason I started humming that college-era hit “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” while making oatmeal. We geared up, woke up Matt (who doesn’t take breakfast on alpine starts), and off we went at 1am.
The first 100 meters of the climb or so are pretty straightforward, and we just followed the previous day’s bootpack up to a 10-meter ice step. Matt and Andreas soloed it up and then belayed me up (I don’t know; not really feeling like soloing ice at 1:30am unless absolutely necessary). We then roped up and climbed up the glacier avoiding some gnarly crevasses on the way to the bergschrund. If there is no bootpack, I’d definitely recommend scouting the glacier the day before, as it is a bit trickier to navigate than you’d think when you look from the bottom.
We made great time, and climbed about 250 meters to the bergschrund in just under 1.5 hours. At least when we climbed it, the best place to cross it and gain the ridge was right off the southeast face past a visible and clear rock band. We decided to simul-climb the five pitches from the berschrund to the ridge, and Andreas lead four of them. Other than a tricky traverse, this was totally enjoyable 60–65° terrain of neve and snice with some patches of ice. Having gained the ridge, we thought our difficulties were over, and it’d be a straightforward shot towards the summit. Alas, that was not the case.
Instead, the route winds and traverses at places, all with great exposure and the occasional crevasse. Once again, we decided to simul-climb the route, and, once again, Andreas took the lead (bless his soul! He was an absolute champion in leading the climb and ensuring we kept a good pace). The climb was sustained 50–60° of mostly good snow, with occasional steeper sections (usually ice to gain a higher section of the ridge) and occasional sections of sugary snow. We followed the bootpack for most of the way up, and on occasions where it fainted, it seemed relatively clear where to go (usually some ice step or gully). We all agreed that the climbing was excellent — mostly great conditions, challenging, and stunning views and exposure.
Finally, we arrived at an ice wall with a v-thread on it, which Wilder had mentioned would signal the end of the technical section. From there, we crossed a beautiful (and objectively terrifying) ice tunnel, which then led to a straightforward climb up to the summit. Wow. ~8 hours after leaving camp, we were on top or Artesonraju. Unreal. Exhilarating. A relief. The views from the top were absolutely stunning: Quitaraju, Alpamayo, and others all in close view. We spent about 20 minutes on the summit before going back to the ice wall and beginning our rappels.
The descend was tedious and painful. Given the terrain’s steepness and exposure, we had to rappel down the entire route. Thankfully, we were able to use Wilder’s anchors for most of the rappels, but we did have to leave a picket and make a v-thread or two. To make matters a bit worse, we didn’t trust the 2nd or 3rd rappel on the way down, so we downclimbed it instead. In my rush to down climb it quickly, I did the pitch without gloves on, which meant I got mild frostbite. For the rest of the way down, I alternated between mittens and gloves to manage the pain in my hands. We counted between 13–15 rappels, including a tricky one right when you get off the ridge and start heading down to the bergschrund.
Finally, we made it back to glacier camp around 4pm or so, ~15 hours from leaving camp. We were not done yet, as we had originally decided to go all the way down to timber camp after the climb. So, boosted by some coca leaves tea that our cook prepared, we took down camp and started the hike down to timber camp. This time around, we stuck to the right side of the glacier (left-side coming up), and it made for much smoother sailing. After crossing the glacier, I started to feel progressively worse. My fingers were still hurting, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I was also sweating, even though I was cold. I was relieved when we got to camp around 7:30pm or so. Following a soup and quinoa dinner, which we ate only by sheer force of will, I then used the jetboil to warm up some water for my fingers. Soothing! The day finally ended at 10pm, 22 hours after we had woken up.
The next day was a breeze, as we just walked out from timber camp to the trailhead, had some delicious warm bread, and then exhaled in relief when our driver showed up with a bigger, higher-clearance car. Artesonraju done and and over.
