Fatima has published this article on her blog in which she recounts the climb. In her own way, with that classic romanticism that characterizes her and with her restless and warrior spirit, which has led her to become the first Spanish woman to reach that summit.
My instinct is capricious, there are days when it is calm and I let myself be gently carried away by the flow of life. Other times he whispers in my ear and shows me my true wild nature. But there are different days, special days, days when it thunders as strong as the Patagonian wind.
And so this story begins, feeling that roar that blows hard inside me. And I see the Torres del Paine, and I understand, I understand everything. It is the first time that I stand under the feet of such rocky masses. They impress me in the depths of my being.
They are real and I am in Patagonia, we must be careful. And I understand… And my calm part accepts it: “Calm down, focus on the North Tower” I tell myself. Now it's time to look at the weather and study the Monzino route until almost memorizing it. It is a more accessible path, more trepindanga and with more certainty of the summit. “Better one than none” they tell me. And I get it, and I keep the screams inside.
But when I imagine myself climbing, my eyes inevitably look neither North nor South, they look at the Center. Always out of the corner of my eye, they always escape from that stylized needle.
The reason can be controlled, the head can be controlled, the body can be controlled. But the heart and the eyes No! Or at least, I have never been able to
What does the weather say? that there will be a window of good weather 5 days after landing in Puerto Natales. Enough time to buy, ask for permissions and think strategies.
What does my heart say? that is not luck. I brought that window with my energy, which is here for me. That the Towers accept me, that they want me to caress them, that they bleed in their fissures, that they tear my skin and soak me to the bone in their vertical rivers, that they will let me sleep between their skirts, that they want me to see the world from the higher and above all, do not be afraid.
And the atmosphere that is breathed in Natales is crazy
Everyone planning, stuff everywhere, Garibotti's bible passing from hand to hand at Red Point. Anxiety is breathed, the wait finally rewarded, in this Patagonian summer that has not given a truce. Thousands of plans resonate, Mermoz, Exupery, Guille are heard…many will go to Chaltén to try their luck.
However, I am calm. I know exactly where I want to be when the sun comes up. Even if he hasn't said it out loud yet. "Where are you going?" they ask us, “A la Monzino, Torre Norte”, we answer. It's a realistic challenge, it's a big challenge, it's a sensible challenge. So with that in mind, we ask for permission, gather more information, and plan everything.
We want to be in the park living 7 days, with room to carry and climb. The logistics are complex, we need to buy food for 7 days and then we have to take everything. Plus the climbing equipment, two ropes, Friends, straps, jacks, crampons, boots, ice axes... tent, stove, bags, mats, some clothes, radio, GPS...
In the end, we realize that it is a lot of weight, too much weight to consider carrying it all at once. We will need a minimum of two days of porting between the Chilean refuge and the Japanese camp. But it is a luxury to walk along the paths of that beautiful valley, we are happy discovering the park, crossing its forests and its rivers.
We want to see the Towers face to face
We took advantage of the second day of portages to go up to the Torres viewpoint. We go against the current and when we arrive there are still few tourists. Now everything is much more real, there they are majestic waiting for us. We enjoy a spectacular view. A sunny day, with clouds and wind in height... a beauty. And again I can't take my eyes off it.
She is so beautiful, the most beautiful. And I completely understand Bonington and Whillans, I understand what led them to pursue and achieve such a feat. And I get it...
We take photos, time lapses, record memories and point the finger at the North Tower or so we think. Because, days later, I will realize that just like my eyes, my finger, like my indomitable heart, points where it wants.
"Never again"
We went down again to the Chilean refuge to carry to our little house in the forest, the Japanese camp. In it I felt like Peter Pan in the realm of Neverland. The kids who got together there raised the pirate flag, we dreamed loudly, we shared everything, even the wounds, and we brothered unconditionally. Special beings, wild, beautiful, free, artists, lovers of everything around us. With that radiant happiness that only great natural spaces give you.
Most are mountain guides or park porters. Some have left their glue (or work) to be there in that window. His sacrifice moves me, his passion has no limits. Why should mine have them? I am in the South of the world, very far from my home but, strangely, I feel in the warmth of it.
I lie down inside the tent restless, that night it will be hard for me to sleep. Tomorrow we will finally enter the valley of silence in a heavy procession that will take us far, to the other side, to the face that almost nobody sees of the Towers.
I fall asleep thinking that everything beautiful is inaccessible and the more inaccessible the more beautiful... I dream, I wake up, I dream again and I see myself on a summit, it is very high, too high, the highest, it commands everything, everything is very below, I see the North summit block below in the distance and the South on the other side. I am aware of where I am and the sun embraces me, while the wind ruffles my bangs.
“I'm going to give you a scare: we have to go to the plant. I've seen it in my dreams."
When I wake up I can't stop my head from spinning. I feel confused, I feel treacherous, why? I need to express everything that I have been hiding until now. I want to shout that I longed to live that moment, that I want to go through every step of that path.
I feel like we should try even if the stakes are very high and we don't reach any summit. “Better one than none” is not for me. The first thing I say before good morning is: “I'm going to give you a scare: we have to go to the plant. I've seen it in my dreams."
Wide open blue eyes listen to me, thousands of thoughts run through them, while I argue almost without stopping, not even to take a breath. And finally an answer, meditated but impulsive at the same time: “You don't have to convince me, come on”.
The logistics change, everything changes, we have to go prepared to sleep on the wall. There are more than 800 meters of vertical climbing and as much until reaching the route. We decided to sleep as close as possible to the beginning of the route, the objective is to reach the Whillans box.
The place where Bonington and Whillans slept during the opening of the route we want to climb. Their ambition was such that they built (with a cigarette in their mouths) a kind of mobile cabin, shaped like a box, to shelter from the strong Patagonian wind.
The valley of silence is magnificent: forests, moraines, glaciers, stream crossings, granite walls everywhere, snowfields... We pass in front of the Bonington Cave, also historic, and discover that it is occupied by the three Chileans who have spent days in the valley carrying and waiting.
They call themselves the greyhounds of Patagonia. And they come out of their hiding place to ask about the weather. The day is gray, windy, humid, the sky is closed... you don't want to leave the cave. We give you the good news, two sunny days, high temperatures and little wind are coming. It's hard to believe looking at the sky, but if the weather is right...
It will be an epic window, something that has not happened in years
We say goodbye and continue on our way. When Felipe catches up with us, a charming Chilean who has become our friend. He goes alone, he will accompany us to the beach, the last bivouac before starting the final moraine. There he will stay waiting for his companions. Only he and we know the new course that we have decided to take the next day.
At the Col we will go to the right and not to the left, it seems like a subtle change, doesn't it? We said goodbye to him until the next day and reached the last moraine, eternal, steep and uncomfortable, two steps back and one forward. There are moments when I don't know if I'm going up or down, or if the world has slowed down under my feet. But as long as they keep moving everything will be fine.
We passed by several bivouacs and, without knowing it, we skipped the Williams box. There is no longer any trace of what was once the home of the British. With that inertia of going closer, we reach the base of the North Tower and luckily we find a small terrace where we can spend the night.
The sky has opened up and the views are indescribable. We are surrounded by imposing granite masses, on one side the Towers appear inaccessible to us. And up front the Shield and the Fortress look just as impregnable.
Where is the gas?
Now for dinner to replenish energy, hydrate well and eating is the key. But… And the gas? We have the JetBoil and food to cook, no gas? I don't believe you!! have we left the gas in the japanese? Okay…positive thoughts, we have Extremaduran ham and loin from the rich “Ambonisa saves your life”. Will the rice noodles get soft in the ice water? definitely not. Still, cold soup is not so bad, something will hydrate.
We will leave the oats overnight to soak in order to have breakfast. This doesn't change anything, just a little less comfort, just that. Tomorrow is the day and here in Patagonia there are no truces. “If you want comfort, it is better to stay at home.” Here, just to collect water from the melting ice, you have to climb and unclimb on slippery plates. Beware that if you stumble you will sleep with a wet ass. “I ask No!!”.
The night hangs over us and the wind picks up. The only thing that protects us is a small wall that we have rebuilt while it was still daytime. In the middle of the night it will give way in a gust of wind and some of it will fall on me. But for now it works and we are proud of our work.
The party begins!
It is still dark when we see the first fronts, made in the USA. Too early, too cold and without light it is very easy to get lost, it is better to wait until it clears up. When it happens more frontal appear, this time acquaintances. They are Felipe and his friends who also go to the plant. The Chilean greyhounds that go to the Monzino. And the group of Camila and Romano who go to Taller del Sol. Thanks to them we can fill my thermos with hot water, we will reserve it as gold, for the night on the wall.
The time has come for us too, we have to get out of the nest. Leaving behind the known and entering the adventure. To reach the foot of the route we still have a long way to go. Climb up the spur, very attentive that although it is simple we are unroped.
We pass some fixed rope with knots and from the shoulder we see that in the funnel there is much less snow and ice than expected. We decided to leave the crampons and ice axes there to lighten up, the road ahead seems endless.
We climbed down the channel and after several lengths of IV, almost 200m of pure trepindanga, which we climbed simultaneously and in slippers, we reached Col Bich.
Very happy to be there, finally alive, we sing our invented war anthem. The ropes that surround us generate echoes with their laughter.
We calm our nerves and the sun catches up with us, while we wait for the comrades from above to advance.
“Different, I feel different than I was yesterday. More tired, but also wiser. The experiences are tanning me like the wind to the mountains»
Inside the store, in the Agostini Camp. Outside the strong wind blows again and the rain patters on the walls. I feel happy, happy to be indoors and protected.
For the second time in Patagonia, we have made the right decision, to know and discover the needles of Fitz and Cerro Torre without pressure. One foot after another, nothing more.
I still feel that Patagonia welcomes us and accepts us. It shows us its wonders among clouds that move wild and under the sun. Sometimes it seems that the mountains smoke very fast. And by magic, flirty open to say hello. Especially the Cerro Torre, of the entire trip has been by far the most mysterious needle.
Without a doubt, its attractiveness is great and I can imagine myself one day in its somital mushroom. But today it is better not to think about it, on days like these, so unstable, it is better to stay in the valley and see them as they deserve, with admiration and respect.
Although the journey continues and future dreams are emerging from the images of these mountains that surround Chaltén. My mind is still trapped in another valley, my soul in another Tower. Relatively close in time and space.
Where were we going?
We have just arrived at the Col and after singing our war anthem, the dance begins. An artificial dance that I hadn't practiced in a long time. Although it must be like riding a bike, which is never forgotten. I also have to use resources, because with the last minute change of course...
We don't have stirrups, so I'll have to make do with what I have on hand. We'll call it a freestyle artifact. I'll use long straps at first, and later I'll make myself a stirrup that will give me more play, especially on the Bonington roof. For now I have to fight with a very vertical and wet pitch, a well placed A2.
Then Diego will join two lengths, a beautiful cracked dihedral of IV+/A1 and that he will enjoy the first part in freestyle, feeling the Patagonian granite. And he will continue with a simpler A0 / IV, until R3.
In the next relay, he will have to face the first little roofs of the track. And I will climb a beautiful traverse to the right of V+/A1 in which to continue dancing between artifo power and Patagonian freestyle. Arriving at R4, something happens. I hear a strange noise, it's like an intense whistling, could it be the wind?
No, something happens, Felipe and the companions who are above, point, shout, and are amazed. There are three condors, they walk very close between the west face and the east side of the towers. Suddenly, we are more aware of where we are, and we all stop doing what we were doing, climbing…if necessary. To simply contemplate and feel the magic of your flight.
Fly, fly Condor fly!
There is one in particular that flies so close to me that I decide it is best to strike up a conversation with him. I start by throwing compliments at him: “You are an amazing being, how beautiful and precious, how I would like to fly by your side”.
But it seems that attracted by my compliments he gains confidence. And he gets so close, he flies so, so close, that I end up telling him: "Please, don't get any closer... you're going to end up scaring me." The Condors, with their wings extended, can have a wingspan of more than 3 meters. At the very least, it is impressive to see them glide by your side.
Then, as if he understood me, he goes with the thermal to the other side, out of my reach. Leaving in my retina one of the most amazing images of my life. Not every day you can contemplate one of the largest birds on the planet from above.
Diego quickly takes over from me in a pitch that although the review marks a pendulum, with the current material it can be done in a traverse to the right, a beautiful V+ traverse, which although it seems not, is allowing itself to be protected. Diego enjoys it freely, luckily it's dry and the granite is excellent.
The Bonington Roof
Arriving at the R5 we stand under the great roof and glimpse the red dihedral above. A real pass. The shape of the roof is very special, it looks like a wedge of cheese cut with a knife. I free climb to it, I see the waterfall that forms to the right, and the water begins to wet me. I decide that the best thing would be to stop and put on the goretex.
There are two little nails right on the inside vertex…but nothing else. The fissure is so narrow that nothing I have will fit. Have the Bonington nails fallen out? I only see one option since we don't carry nails. In the old review it clearly says "NO nails" and I thought that being such a historical route it was necessary to pass without nailing. So what?
I support my legs on the opposite wall, I push myself as long as I am, I stick to the ceiling as much as I can, like a lizard and at the external vertex where the fissure widens a little, I place a microphone in extremis.
Then I climb on it gently and it supports my weight, just enough, to put something better higher up. I feel totally circus performing these aerial acrobatics. With the potential pendulum fall against the dihedral and the precarious protection until leaving the ceiling, my heart rate increases. A1, says the review, hopefully… I go free as soon as I can, leaving the stirrup below. The length has demanded a lot from me, that and the friction of the strings consumes me, and I reach the R6 exhausted.
the fucking river
Diego, it's your turn... a priori according to the review it looks good...A1/A0, there should be a lot of nails, it should be more or less fast. We did not know what awaited him. Diego complains little, or almost nothing. But in this pitch, he was sputtering all the time, complaining about the water. I thought about what was dripping from the previous roof and told him that it was normal. But I didn't really understand it until I had to clean the pitch.
I don't know what to call that, we have called it to understand the fucking river. We have had many hard pitches, almost all of them wet or dripping, and we accept the price of touching this red granite in this remote place. But this is too much. Climb up a waterfall with a backpack on your back, noticing how the water mercilessly seeps through the goretex sleeves. If I had known, it would have been better to bring a wetsuit.
The sunset arrives and the sun no longer warms, the last thing I want is to keep putting my cold hands in the cold water. I want to get out of there as soon as possible, “get it” I shout “get it more”, “get it with everything”. It's very vertical and I can't take it anymore, I fall and the soaked ropes squeak with my weight.
I hang under the waterfall. I know I have to get out of there, that each moment that passes will be worse and that all the heat I lose will take time to recover. I think I wish I had a jumar and I admire Diego for having climbed that fucking river.
How to explain the pain in my hands, they are wrinkled like after a long bath. I don't feel them, especially the fingers of my right hand, the one I use to remove the friends. I need to feel them again, I hit them, I put them under my armpits and I feel how the blood comes.
I scream and cry from the pain, but I know from experience that it is good. I know what has to happen, that the blood returns, that it circulates, that it brings back life and warmth, even if the pain is inhuman. Finally, I still don't know how, I get to the R7. Exhausted, cold and soaked. And I find a sympathetic Diego, and on him, the red dihedral.
the red dihedral
Fiery red, smooth, shiny, wet, magnificent. I can imagine Bonington's delight at finding such an aesthetic pitch in the middle of the route. I know that it is the last key pitch of the day, of the route. It's getting dark and you have to decide. I have a feeling that if we leave it until tomorrow, we will be closer to the ground than to the top. But if I can climb it now, we'll be almost to the top.
These are important decisions that have to be made. Go down or go up. I tell myself that it's only 20 meters, that there seem to be cracks, that the night will be long and the ledge where we are is not comfortable. Harder things I have faced with the dim light. It looks like an open old book.
I don't allow him to intimidate me and with the same, I tell Diego: "Pass me everything, I'm going upstairs". The length is amazing, and it makes me sad not to enjoy it with more light and calm. Although it is very wet, it climbs well, protects itself well and dances well between its fissures. I arrive at the R8 and it seems to me a more worthy ledge where to spend the night. And above all, I savor the triumph of being closer. A crucial length closer.
the mini bivouac
The shelf that we find is more dignified, but also more dwarf and uncomfortable. Still it will have to be enough. We are too tired to continue climbing, especially at night. We ate the hot soup thanks to the thermos and opened the last pack of ham we had left. Of course, it tastes like glory.
To sleep we put stones together trying to expand the area a bit and somehow flatten the shelf. But despite our efforts, no matter how hard we try, we do not fit together. We tried all shapes and positions, even the most unlikely.
It is a mix between Twister and Tetrix. We end up contrapeado, the feet in the head of another. I'm out, with the void at my side, I'll put my legs in a backpack and anchor it to the meeting so I don't fall.
Not even my back is really well supported and I notice how the harness sinks in little by little. Impossible to sleep, I'll hold on like this for a few hours, but in the end I won't be able to take it anymore and I'll ask for change. I need at least to have my back supported. So as I can, I get inside, I snuggle a lot, warmer, more comfortable and finally I fall asleep.
I have to say that Diego was a true gentleman, like in the old movies, he left me the bag. And He slept half sitting up, only with the feathers and the bivouac cover. Also, in the end, it was his legs that spent the most night inside the backpack.
Second day on the wall
At dawn on the second day everything looks different. We had raw bacon for breakfast and surprisingly it works. We are born renewed energies, we go up. We will climb, lighter since the bivouac material will hang from that meeting, waiting for our descent. We will have approximately 12 pitches left, but this section is easier and the climb is mostly free, so we can go faster and enjoy it more.
I start to climb that I woke up very motivated. As I climb I'm glad I didn't try it at night. I face the most losing pitch of the route. A crossing that takes you to a rare and difficult crack, very vertical, in which you don't know if you're doing well, until you reach the R9 and find the only two spits on the track. There is not a single nail marking the path. What's more, the nails you see are there to fool you as they are shipments from people who got lost before you.
Then more beautiful dihedrals that Diego climbed and fissure systems, slabs and some aerial spur that touched me. Long to enjoy and finally feel this magnificent orange granite. Also today the wall is drier and it is a gift. After the classic chimney climbed by Diego, we arrive at the Bonington bivouac. We stop to refill meltwater with the help of a straw and continue.
Diego spliced two lengths in freestyle, avoiding a small ceiling of A0, although he was a bit wet. After yesterday, he has the bar for water resistance on the wall, very high.
And when we get to the R15, we find Felipe rappelling with his friends, they are very happy. In his glassy eyes it is perceived that they are coming down from the summit. They encourage us to continue and explain to us that there is still a long way to go before the real summit. Although in the original review the road would end there and a section would begin, it is not known how many meters from III to the summit. The truth is very different, but it is still early and we are very encouraged. So get to work.
The delicacy
I get what Felipe calls, a delicacy. A long shot of the good ones, a perfect fissure of fingers that I really enjoy. In addition, they rappel next to me and encourage me. The camaraderie we feel surrounds us, their joy is contagious. And if I look down, I have all the emptiness of the imposing east face under my feet.
The viewpoint where we took photos the other day is very far away, so low that the tourists look like ants. I love this feeling of being on the other side of where my finger was pointing. And I like to feel how those same fingers are clinging to this incredible fissure. I think climbing a pitch like this is a gift from the Tower and my well-deserved treat.
Then the crossing of the Pyramid, which is exceptional, aerial and very aesthetic. Diego secures me to the other side, and we climb mini pitches to R17. Where a nail marks the path of a rare crack, also very vertical, which we did not expect. Diego will climb it with claw and it will be the end of his job. We are almost there, I reach the R18 or False summit and I quickly go out easily to the summit.
And there we are, at the highest peak. The summit of the Central Tower of the Torres del Paine. One of the most slender and beautiful needles in the world. Making a dream come true. Happiness is mixed with nostalgia and my sensations are contradictory.
On the one hand, the day is so splendid and the views so special that we would like to stop time at that moment and stay there forever. On the other hand, and back to reality, time is short, and the adventure is coming to an end. You have to get down from there and retrace your steps, as soon as possible. Many rappels separate us from the ground and the wind is already beginning to make itself felt.
love for everyone
After the photos of rigor. Diego, my rope partner kneels down and looks at me very seriously. Could it be hypoxia? There's Nooo! And before it happens, I already know what's going to happen. Haven't I dreamed it? He asks me a question, only one, but it is very difficult.
And I am in shock, I have nowhere to escape and I answer: "Okay" and I no longer know where we are, or what we are doing up there, or how we got there. I don't know if we're at the top, at the bottom or where. In the clouds maybe? He takes off one of his earrings, meaning a lot for him, and gives it to me, he knows I'm not going to wear rings. So now I look even more pirate, if possible. And everything indicates that I will embark with him on a shared pirate life, a life rope.
After the momentazo and still with the head in another side, we began the descent. We repel and I undo the length of the crossing of the Pyramid, which is again amazing. And so, one after another the rappels follow one another like images of a life.
In each meeting we will pray all the prayers that we know so as not to have problems with the ropes. We have mechanized the descent, and Diego rappels first, always with the ropes collected on the sides, so that the wind does not blow them away.
Dude where is my backpack
When we arrived at the Bonington bivouac we stopped to replenish water, eat a little and continue descending. Diego takes off his backpack, while I go to collect water, and he mounts the abseil. We keep going down, and the ropes go down with us.
We arrive at our makeshift bivouac, where we spent the night before. Diego quickly realizes that Felipe, our friend, has put a small bag of nuts from his hotel in the mushroom of the bivouac backpack.
He gives us a lot of joy and we eat them without thinking about anything else. When we pull the strings, that's when we realize. What about the other backpack? Aren't you carrying it? Did you carry it all the time? But you went to get water and didn't you take it after putting the canteen in? Tension, a lot of tension. Come positive thoughts, processing... let's look for solutions... There are none.
Keep thinking, is there anything we can do? No, it's late, if only we hadn't thrown the ropes. Climbing everything again is impossible, and even less so without the material. The weather is changing rapidly and we are aware that the window is closing.
We cannot spend another night on the wall, we would risk not being able to go down. We review what was lost, all the big friends from 1 repeated to 3, express tapes, water bottle, headlamps, radio, my thermos...
We know that for now no one has been able to recover it, the mountain has not been left. We do not know if there will be more climbing this season, which is almost over. But we are famous in Natales, and everyone knows what is there and where is our backpack. We'll see what happens when someone can climb the Central Tower again and get it back.
I have faith that the friends over there will somehow get it to us. Especially my thermos, which has accompanied me on so many unique adventures, and which for me has sentimental value. But that will be another chapter, since the end of that story has not yet been written.
Just in case, we left a note with our details at the Japanese Camp. We spread the legend of the Spanish backpack full of totems... and also in the new review that I have elaborated with love and share of the route, if you look, well! Small details appear and right there where we left it, under an SOS our lost backpack is drawn.
In the end, most are material things and you have to live to be able to enjoy them. So we wisely decided not to waste any more time and keep going down. We know that now each rappel will be more exposed, since with less material, it will be more dangerous and difficult to recover the ropes if they get caught.
So the rappels follow one another, and the prayers in the meetings increase. We suffer some more hitches and I climb to free them, but they are not serious and we are solving them. When we arrive at Col Bich it is sunset and we give each other the first hug. We know that the hardest part is already done.
Now you just have to have a little more patience and head to reach our high nest. We continue rappelling and the ropes keep getting caught, which slows down our descent. Until we finally started to climb down when we reached easier terrain.
We ascend to the shoulder of the North at dusk. Luckily we leave an emergency front and with that little light we go down. We go very carefully, in silence and how on tiptoe, you illuminate me and I feel calmer. We arrived at the bivouac at night and I can only think that tomorrow will be another day. Tiredness overcomes me and we sleep soundly.
Bajada, this is Patagonia
But the next morning, the relaxation dissipates. The window closes and the wind is so strong that it knocks us over. The first thing he takes is my helmet, he rips it from my hands. Fly like a condor, plan, go down and go back up. And I see him fly away very far, very low until he is out of sight.
I say goodbye to him, he has accompanied me to many summits and adventures, to the Alpamayo, to the Sphinx, to the Toclla and yesterday to the Central Tower. I thank you for taking care of me all this time.
We begin to descend as soon as possible by the spur of the moraine. The wind beats us like puppets. It throws me to the ground and against stones in each gust and the heavy backpack does not help. I decide that I prefer to choose where to throw myself, and when I feel that it is going to happen I throw myself to the ground, to minimize the damage.
A pesar de todo, pienso en las decisiones tomadas ayer y en las condiciones de hoy. Y con ese viento, me alegro enormemente de haber bajado de la pared y estar con los pies en el suelo.
The oasis
Cuando llegamos a la Playa estamos cansados y estresados. Así que para mí, más que una Playa, lo que encontré allá fue un Oasis. “Hagan una paradita”, nos dice Cami. Nos sentamos y nos unimos al circulo, sentimos el calor de la camaradería pirata de nuevo. Nos pasan mate caliente, algo de comida. Están todos radiantes de felicidad.
La montaña nos ha aceptado y estamos todos de vuelta de las cumbres. En dos días se han escalado las tres Torres. La Norte: tres cordadas a la Monzino y dos cordadas a Taller del Sol. La central por la ruta Bonington: dos cordadas y nosotros. Y una cordada a la sur. Nos cuentan que todos han alcanzado cumbre y están bien.
Reímos y compartimos experiencias, comida, historias, mate, aventuras y canciones.La emoción de encontrarnos en este valle sagrado, el momento y la energía que reina en esa tierra de nadie, nos envuelve.
Ya no somos desconocidos, nos ha unido la pachamama y una pasión compartida de subir montañas. El cielo se ha cerrado sobre nosotros y empieza a llover. Pero ya nada importa, ya no hay prisa, el calor de nuestros corazones ha borrado todo temor.
Por Fátima Gil
Fátima Gil es la séptima mujer (primera española) que escala esta ruta. Antes que ella la ascendieron: la italiana Ginella Pagani en 1987 junto a Ermanno Salvaterra; 16 febrero 2002 Allison (USA) fue la segunda mujer en hacer cumbre en la Torre Central del Paine;Milena (Eslovena) fue la tercera; Heather Bather, 2013; Ivonne Donoso, (Chilena) 2016; Paloma Farkas (Americana), 4 de Febrero, 2019.
