Our tour of Bergell starts off with nonstop rain: From the Julier Pass all the way to Bondo, it’s pouring buckets. But as a mountain guide, you learn to be patient. Since the weather forecast promises an improvement this evening and perfect weather for tomorrow, my guest René and I sit comfortably in the valley, waiting out the rain.

Late in the afternoon, we finally begin the ascent to the Sasc-Furä Hut, which welcomes us in the most beautiful evening light. The bad weather turns out to be a stroke of luck for us: Although it had been completely booked up just a few days earlier, the hut is now only half full due to cancellations.

The next morning, my hunch is confirmed: Most climbing parties are still wary of wet rocks and are staying away. For René and me, that means we have the route all to ourselves—we’re the only climbing party on the entire route! In the middle of peak season, that’s like winning the lottery!

To start off, I choose the Rebuffat Crack—a magnificent finger crack that’s easy to protect. We make quick work of the next two easy pitches on a running rope. Then comes the first grade 6 pitch: an ascending traverse beneath a roof. As expected, the rock is still wet in places, but it’s easy to climb. After three more, easier pitches, we’re both standing safely on the large scree slope—the Cengia Mediana—in the middle of the wall.

Right above the ledge, I have to really dig in while leading: This is where the nominal crux lies—a slightly overhanging crack rated VI+ that you have to exit to the right at the right spot. René follows confidently. After a few more pitches in the upper V and lower VI grades, we reach the start of the infamous V-shaped chimney.

From previous guided tours, I know the route inside and out, and I know: Stay high above the base of the chimney and press against the walls using counterpressure and friction. But this time, things take an unexpected turn for the worse: the left chimney wall is still damp from the rain, and to make matters worse, an old cut on my left ring finger has reopened and is bleeding—the worst possible conditions for pure friction.

Under intense mental pressure, I push myself up. When I finally reach the small niche with the two bolts and René calls out the relief-filled “Stand!”, the tension eases noticeably.

From the chimney, we continue at a brisk pace. We tackle the final pitches—Grade IV and V—and continue up the famous North Ridge.

There, we pass an Italian rope team that, even at this late hour, is still belaying one pitch at a time. Glancing at my watch, I think to myself: It’s a good thing there’s an emergency bivouac at the summit—at this pace, the two of them won’t make it to the Gianetti Hut today.

Late in the afternoon, René and I are standing on the summit of Piz Badile. After the customary handshake with the mountain guide and a short rest, we adjust our plans: Descending into Val Masino and driving back to Bondo on the same day no longer makes sense given the time.

We make our way down the Italian standard route at a leisurely pace and reach the welcoming Gianetti Hut about 1.5 hours later.

Once again, I tip my hat to Riccardo Cassin’s first ascent in 1937. Once more, it has become clear to us modern climbers that the nominally most difficult pitch is rarely the most mentally demanding. While the grade 6 crux offers clear holds, the legendary V-chamber—which Cassin rated simply as UIAA III at the time (today 5b / UIAA V+/VI-)—demands uncompromising friction control and strong nerves.