Report from September 6, 7, 8, 2025

We decided to go big on Cerro Solo on Friday.

We didn’t know how big…

The numbers were digestible, but we had no idea the style of terrain we were about to hurl ourselves in.

6,959′ Cerro Solo

El Chalten

Argentina, Patagonia

• Summit:  6,959 feet (we skied from 6,300′)
• House:  1,361 feet
• Camp:  2021 feet
• Vertical From House:  5,289 feet 
• Vertical From Camp:  4,279 feet
• Vertical skied:  2,100 feet
  
• Max Pitch:  42?º
• Average Pitch:  38?º
• Aspect:  Northeast
• Distance: 18 miles round trip house to house, 6 miles round trip camp to camp on summit day
• Hiking Time From Camp to Summit:  7 hours & 23 minutes
• House to House Time: 19 hours 
• Camp to Camp Time on Summit Day:  12 hours & 11 minutes
• Recommended Equipment:  camping gear, crampons, ice axe, skins, ropes, crevasse rescue kit 

This was to be a 3-day trip.

Hike in on day #1 to camp at Laguna Torre.

Summit, ski Cerro Solo, and return to camp on day #2.

Camp back to the house on day #3.

Day 1, we had some seriously heavy packs.

55-pounds.

I was tired right away.

We hiked 6 miles into camp.

It took us 3 hours and 45 minutes with 3 breaks.

We arrived around 2:30 pm and spent the afternoon setting up camp, lounging, eating, and wandering about.

We practiced the Tyrolean Traverse over the Rio Fitzroy that we knew we’d be negotiating in the dark the next morning.

We’d never done one before, and it was fun.

Sunset delivered a full moon, pink eastern skies, and long lenticular clouds.

Up at 5 am.

Walking by 6:30 am.

The Tyrolean Traverse went smoothly, and we were off.

Almost right away, the trail was rough.

Straight up, muddy, bushy, wild.

We bashed our way through treeline into a crumbling valley.

The Valley of the Shadow of Death…

This evil gully went on forever, delivering unstable rocks, shale, scree, and dirt.

This valley kicked our ass.

We hit snow, exhausted, after 4 hours of some of the most heinous terrain of my life.

We switched to ski boots and crampons and weaved our way up the serpentine North Chute of Cerro Solo.

The snow was soft, and at times we were post-holing to our knees.

The weather was ridiculously hot.

Sweat dripped from my temples.

Greggy got a leg cramp and I took the lead from then on.

The steep chute opened up into a precipitous bowl with zero angle let-up.

We were exposed.

The sun was blistering.

Not a breath of wind.

Isothermal snow.

After 15 minutes of booting up the bowl, we switched to skins as I was sinking in up to my waist.

Was this snow too rotten to continue?

In this unrelenting terrain, could this bowl rip out down to the rocks?

Anxiety set in, yet we decided to continue up, knowing that in Patagonia, we’ve seen these conditions before.

Despite the 38º slope, we skinned well due to the snow’s softness.

We hacked large switchbacks into the edge of the glacier and up to the headwall.

It was 2 pm.

The rest of our route was a long circuitous loop between and around gaping crevasses that blocked our path.

Only 600 vertical feet stood between us and the summit.

I calculated that only 6 decent turns were in that space that held so much objective hazard.

Hot day, low snow, large crevasses, not much skiing = no go for us.

It was just too much objective hazard for too little reward.

We were standing directly on top of the big ski run of Cerro Solo and decided to call it good.

After 7 hours and 23 minutes, we stopped climbing and tried to fathom just where we were.

Cerro Torre & the Fitzroy Tower laughed at our insignificance.

I dropped first and our wet slide/wet slab fears evaporated.

My ski cut was unreactive, and I dug in.

The corn was good:  smooth, supple, responsive.

I opened it up a bit with the confidence that comes from having seen my run ahead of time.

Steep rollovers, round spines, rocky mini-chutes, and some rumbly snow down low.

I stopped on a large hanging snowfield with no safe zone. 

I found the safest spot I could, caught my breath, and called on the radio for Greggy to drop when ready.

Greggy skied faster and better than I did and made Cerro Solo look like a blue groomer.

He then continued down the massive North Chute.

I skied it second and really pushed myself to ski it top-to-bottom.

The chute was slushy and skied pretty well.

We ended up in the safe, flat basin, where our shoes were.

We embraced and tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Our minds turned to what lay between ourselves and our lovely camp…

I almost don’t wanna talk about this descent.

It was horrible, exhausting, confusing, yucky, and mentally taxing.

Every one of our 20,000 steps in this zone had to be perfect, or you were gonna be camping out in that horrendous gully with a broken ankle.

We slowly made it through.

Back on the trail, life got better.

Cerro Solo just wouldn’t let us go, though.

The “Lord of the Rings” Wet Chute, rock scrambles, evil tree branches and bushes, thorns, mud, and doubt haunted us.

We were eternally grateful to see our old friend, the Tyrolean Traverse.

We glided across with ease, happy to be off our feet for a few moments after the 12-hour grind.

We made it back to camp 12 hours and 11 minutes after we’d left it.

We were destroyed and grateful.

We’d pulled it off, made good decisions, found our limits, elevated our friendship, and we had bread, meat, and cheese to laugh about it over.

We slept well.

We trudged the 6 miles back to the house in the morning, and it crushed me.

I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me.

The pack felt immensely heavy and I had no energy.

We made it home after 3 hours and 23 minutes.

I was annihilated.

I ruined our celebratory dinner by not being able to eat, forcing us to leave early.

I figured I was simply too old and weak to do this sorta thing anymore.

I was relieved the next day when we both had stomach issues and I learned that my downturn was at least partially due to a mild stomach flu Greggy had brought us back from his wedding in Bariloche last week.

I write this from day 3 on the couch after this adventure.

Stomach is almost healed up now, and we plan to submit our bodies to the elements once again manana.

It was neat to learn once we got home that the legendary climber Colin Haley was the first to ever summit 10,262′ Cerro Torre solo in the winter, the same day we skied Cerro Solo – September 7, 2025.

Ski day #9.

¡Gracias, Patagonia!

Photos in Chronological Order