Woken by the turbulence, I found myself on a plane to Mexico with limited leg room. My neck had gone stiff from the uncomfortable sleep position. I stretched out my legs, politely declined the drink offer from the flight attendant. It was like waking up from an afternoon nap that has gone much longer than it should’ve, and I could not tell which continent I was on. I closed my eyes, thinking about how I got here and trying desperately to fall asleep.

Last year we were invited on a climbing trip in El Chorro, Spain. The plan fell through due to difficult logistics. Vaguely, I remember seeing a short film of Alex soloing a big wall somewhere in Mexico. After some research and input from Miranda’s co-worker, we have found us a limestone paradise in the shape of El Potrero Chico. EPC is famous for long bolted multi-pitches, with plenty of options in the 5.11 range. It is perfect. Miranda, Chloe, Felix and I booked flights shortly. I was excited. A month prior to the trip, Lauren, Alex, Luke, Mischa and Clara joined us, making us a group of nine. The rest of the days were spent doing extra work, climbing hard at the gym and day-dreaming about rock climbing in summer temps.

*Roberto holding onto the eggs so they won’t slide away*

Little to no sleep was had on my overnight flight to Mexico City. Subsequent seven-hour layover consisted of wandering in the airport, failing to connect to airport wifi, and trying to fall asleep on the cold airport floor. I was relieved and exhausted to board the flight to Monterrey. Another crying baby prevented any possibility for sleeping. Atlas, I landed in Monterrey and met up with Miranda, Chloe, Clara and Luke.

We met our taxi man Roberto at the parking lot. The crux of the trip was loading all the gear into his SUV. After a pit stop at the local grocery store, the car was full to the brim. We could see the mountains getting closer as Roberto drove on the wrong side of the highway with instagram reels playing on the phone. I settled into my seat, listened to Chloe and Roberto’s conversation in Spanish and watched people with assault rifles zooming past us in pick-up trucks. Sleep deprivation, chaos of the town and vibrations from hitting potholes at 110 km/h made the car ride an out-of-body experience. For a moment, it felt strange being there. It felt strange to be engaging in a privileged activity such is rock climbing, in a place where people have little privileges. How are we supposed to high-five on top of a pitch, knowing violence is taking place just few kilometres away from us?

The sudden quietness pulled me out of my thoughts. It appeared that we had left the chaos of Monterrey behind. I stuck my neck out the window, El Toro was right in front of my face and there were a few headlamps on the NE face. We pulled into La Posada — the climbers’ campground, unloaded our luggage, paid Roberto and checked in.

Tents were frantically pitched and we went to a small restaurant across the street. The chicken tacos were mediocre but we were all starving. I was nearly delirious since I’ve been awake for the past 36 hours. We quickly finished the remaining food and headed back to camp. I soon passed out on the sleeping mat.

A deep dreamless night of sleep was almost enough to clear off the lingering drowsiness. I knew climbing above a bolt would wake me up more than Miranda’s bird-chirping alarm. I unzipped the tent and had a first look at the sea of limestone surrounding us.

We cooked breakfast in the communal kitchen and started to pack up gear. The weather was perfect and I was glad to have escaped from the rainy Squamish slabs. Miranda, Luke and I had decided to single-pitch for the day to get used to the new style of climbing while the rest of the group went on easy multi-pitch routes. The limestone walls are steep and big, my neck felt sore looking up at them. I tried to imagine what this place was like under the ocean millions of years ago, but failed to wrap my head around the thought.

Just before we tied into the rope, screams and thunder-like rumbling came across the valley. Rockfall. Later we learned that a microwave-sized rock dislodged on Estrellita, a route we would climb two days later. What a way to start the trip! The temperature was perfect in the shade, I worked my fingers into oddly-shaped sharp limestone pockets. The climbing is steep but on good holds, the opposite of the Squamish-style climbing I am used to. I was pleasant to find hand-jams here and there. Miranda hates crack climbing, I love it.

*The group at the registration before entering the valley*

With the Las Agujas spires just across the valley and the afternoon heat, I was more than happy to switch to shady climbing. I’ve looked at every single photo of the spire I could find on the internet so I was excited to climb it. We didn’t start climbing until two hours later due to some faff from the previous parties. I was glad that by the time we started, there’s no other parties on the route. Being hit by ropes tossed down by descending parties while leading was not on my to-do list. The downside was that it’d prob be too late to climb the second pitch with a team of three as the sun was setting.

I climbed through the run-out but easy button section and pulled through the crux with some sneaky crack climbing. The rock formation was wild. I found myself looking through the giant hole in the middle of the rock wall into mountain ranges in a distance. Shortly I arrived at the notch between the two spires. The earth dropped away from both sides.

We decided to go down and not climb the next pitch as the sun had already set when all three of us stood on the belay ledge.

*Me exiting the crux onto easier ground*

*Looking out to the other side of the valley*

*Me on the notch between the two spires, belaying Miranda (photo by Felix)*

*Luke and Miranda getting ready to descend*

It was soon became too dark to see without a headlamp and we quickly packed up. The hike down involved slipping on loose rocks and avoiding cacti, by far the most dangerous activity all day. I devoured the delicious dinner all of us made and we shared our experiences of the day. I especially enjoyed listening to Chloe talking about how much she loved the climb and how much Felix said he hated it. “It was so fucking slippery”, he said those words with disgust. We decided to climb Estrellita the next day.

Everyone’s alarm went off the same time. We tried to be the first parties only to find a party of 3 at the base of the climb. I linked the first two pitches, here is what I know: you can’t sell sand to arabs and you can’t tell me they are 5.9! Next few pitches were less sandbagged. The wind was cold and I regretted not bringing my jacket. The next pitch involved some airy traversing actions before turning up onto the arete. We scrambled at the base of the forth pitch and went for a quest in search for the first bolt, which turned out to be fifteen meters off the ground.

*Miranda on the traverse after successfully avoiding the cactus*

*Upper crux offwidth, they don’t teach you that in the climbing gym..*

Second half of the route required more crack climbing technique than I’d anticipated but thankfully we are Squamish climbers. Obviously Miranda tried everything to avoid the crack. I felt a bit like a floppy noodle after shoving body parts into weird places so I was rather glad to not have to lead the final chimney. What I failed to realize was how difficult a 5.8 chimney would be with a backpack on.

After a snack break we hustled for the descend. I disliked the fact that we were rappelling down somewhere that we did not come up from. My concern was validated when Miranda rapped into a canyon instead of over it. As I set up a belay for her to climb back up, Chloe and Felix got their rope stuck in a palm tree. Lauren descended behind them and had a good laugh at our junk show.

*What Lauren saw: rope in the tree, people in the canyon*

*Me trying to free Chloe and Felix’s rope*

It wouldn’t have been an adventure if nothing went wrong. Things went more smoothly after. It took us almost as much time to descend as climbing the route. It started to drizzle when our feet are on flat ground and I could taste the rain in my mouth.

The warm air welcomed me as I unzipped the tent in the morning and I knew dehydration was on the schedule. The girls decided to climb Satori while me and Felix wanted to climb Excalibur. I thought topping out on the tower would be more cool. The approach was a heinous 30 min scramble up loose rocks and cacti. I certainly did not enjoy the heat.

As I was belaying Felix up the first first pitch, a party rappelling had gotten their rope stuck in a crack. They did manage to free it eventually, the abundance of crack features on the route concerned me. I started to have a bad gut feeling about the climb. We were both overheating and climbing slippery limestone with sweaty fingers was not particularly secure. After a big fall onto his ass and some rests Felix managed to link the next two pitches. Either it’s because the climb was hard or the heat, I felt out of breath. I also didn’t like the stuck knot in the crack — someone had to cut their rope.

Half way up the climb and I drank 1 out of 1.5 litre of water that I brought. The crux pitch only had a handful of harder moves. This was also when the climb became chossy. Loose blocks with “X” marked with chalk were plenty and they came in all shapes and sizes. I came around the corner and could see the girls on the other climb.

I started chit-chating with Felix as he climbed up the final pitch. All of a sudden he started screaming like he was giving birth. I was shocked, concerned and confused. I asked if he was ok and he was just biting down onto his arm while letting out another muffled scream. How did he got a huge piece of wood splinter under his finger nail? I have no clue. It looked quite painful. I tried pulling it out with my tweezers and the entire valley was filled with his scream. “Are you guys ok?” Lauren radioed. He did not respond. He was not ok. He looked like he was going to pass out.

I told him that passing out was not an option as my motto is to leave any men who inconvenience me behind. Turns out there’s nothing some sugar, ibuprofen and water couldn’t fix. I made sure he was good to rappel on his own and went down first. On the way down I passed an intermediate rappel anchor, I remembered thinking why it was there. I rapped down the the start of the last pitch. Fuck. The rope was guaranteed to be stuck if we were to pull it from there. I radioed up to Felix and told him to stop at the intermediate anchor and do another rappel. Subsequent two rappels were stressful. My butt was clenched every time we pull the rope, hoping it wouldn’t get stuck.

We met up with Miranda and Lauren at the foot of the mountain and hiked down together in the dark. Slipping was frequent on loose rocks. I felt like I had gotten heatstroke and my subsequent vomiting proved my assumption. Dinner was delicious but I did not keep it in my stomach for too long. On the bright side, the midnight ramen was rather delicious and no more puking took place that night.

Temperature plummeted overnight and we woke up to chilly wind and cloudy skies. I needed a break from long multi-pitches after the day before. We took Luke on his first multi-pitch climb. On the way down we spotted a wave shaped rock face on the opposite side of the valley and someone was climbing up the overhanging face. It looked too cool to not go and investigate. We hiked over and met a couple from Denmark, they gave us some recommendations on the climbs. Both Miranda and Mischa put up impressive lead attempts on their respective climbs. It was my first time climbing on tufas. The king line of the crag goes up the steepest part, it’s impossible to not give it a go. I whipped all over the place at the final crux move and hurt my wrist in the process, I decided bailing was a better idea. Meanwhile we got exciting news that Clara and Alex sent Time Wave Zero(24pithes, 5.12a) in a just about 12 hours.

*Cats are grown from trees here in Mexico*

It appeared that our warm vacation in Mexico was over, the temperature hovered around 5 degrees and Miranda looked like a polar bear with 8 layers on.

Most of our group decided to take a rest day and go explore in the town. Obviously I couldn’t live with the fact of not climbing for a day so I somehow convinced Felix and Miranda to climb the spires with me.

My fingers were undeniably cold and I had to stop half way to warm them up. Fortunately the belay ledge was sheltered from the wind. Just a few dats ago we were climbing the exact same route but I was on the verge of having a heatstroke and now we are all a little hypothermic.

The second pitch had a few tricky thin moves off the belay and I climbed with caution. The fingers were numb from the cold so I had to look carefully where I place them. I traversed slightly to the right and almost got blown over by the wind gusts. I had to cover my face with my arms as the wind was making it slightly hard to breath. I looked down and the earth dropped away, the exposure made my head spin. We took turns climbing the pitch and hiked down in the dark, just like any another days.

*Clara, Mischa crusing up on small holds*

*Chloe, Miranda walking down the canyon in search of sunny climbs*

*Found the sun! Miranda on steep route with good holds.*

*Mischa negotiating the final sloper before the chains*

*Chloe agrees that crack climbing is the best climbing*

We explored more single-pitch climbing the next day. Potrero is not just renowned for its long bolted routes, but also for the often forgotten mega classic single pitches.

It took a lot of self-control to not climb with an injured wrist but I was happy to be on photo duties. Although after three hours I was gradually losing circulation in my legs from hanging in the harness.

Soon night was upon us and suddenly Miranda felt dizzy and could not walk straight so she started going down the mountain on her butt. Turns out butt-sliding down 3rd class scramble was not exactly trivial so I put her on a leash just to make sure that if she were to fall off the mountain I’ll die with her. The hiking-down-the-mountain-in-the-dark streak continues.

Our last day at Potrero consists of bailing off a multipitch due to the cold, Miranda and Mischa sending their first 5.11a lead and a lot laughs. We all went to Leo’s for our last supper then hurried back to the campsite to start packing. Everyone was leaving at 4AM to the airport except for Me, Felix and Luke. We all went to bed early and were woken by strange party music at around 2AM. I said goodbye to Miranda when she left the tent and tried desperately to fall asleep as I knew I had a long day of travelling in front of me.

Roberto came to pick us up at 7 AM sharp. The sunrise on the dessert horizon painted the mountains of El Potrero pink. I slowly drifted into sleep again while listening to Luke and Roberto’s Spanish conversation. We parted ways at the airport after spending the last of our paseos on sandwiches. The travelling went smoothly yet I did not make it back home until midnight.

It was a difficult few days to be back to reality. The life at El Potrero Chico was simple. Sleep in a tent, shower once a week, climb and talk about the day with friends at dinner. Happiness was easy. At first I thought I missed the climbing but now I think it is the life around climbing and the experiences shared with friends. It’s the silly moments that are the most memorable, not some hard routes I’ve sent. When I think of EPC, I think of the dinners we shared, us shivering on the belay ledge together, our laughs when the rope got stuck in a palm tree, spending an hour trying to untangle ropes, friends trying their best on climbs and the stray dogs that walked us back to the campground.

El Potrero Chico

Throne of Kings(5.10b)