Piz Polaschin. Once upon a time on Julier

As we were skinning up from the Julier pass towards a beautiful rocky face of Piz Polaschin, my backpack was huge. Mainly, because I packed a pair of boots that are meant for climbing the 8000 meter peaks in the greater ranges. The plan was to test equipment and train for a fall trip to the Himalaya. While the expedition evaporated into the ether of Covid-19 uncertainty, our climb turned out to be a great adventure itself.

The final pitches up the Polaschin. See the tape on the red rope?

The plan was to see if my old boots were still in a good shape.

***

I bought them in 2007, when together with my parents we went to Tajikistan to climb Peak Korzhenevskaya - a beautiful summit that rises up to 7105 meters. For my young soul, travelling through the central Asian cities, riding through the wild plains for hours on end and climbing high up has left an indelible impression. Having this amazing adventure with my parents before I left their (our) home for studies abroad made it even more special.

My parents in the Pamir hills

And in the valleys

The ground transport

My dad was born in 1953 - the year the summit had its first ascent. For him it was the second time he was on the mountain - in 1982 he was climbing a more technical route on Korzhenevskaya with his friends. They were almost on the crest of the Romanov route on the south side of the mountain when a massive avalanche broke off and swept them off the mountain. They were climbing in a party of nine. All of them tumbled down the slope and got partially buried. One by one they got out of the debris but by the time they reached and dug out Eugenijus Bajoras, he was no longer breathing. After a long resuscitation effort, they had to let go. Other teams were climbing in the valley that had communication equipment and they were able to arrange helicopter assistance. A recovery operation followed that included bringing the body up a different crest and moving down to a snow ledge that could be stomped into a helipad.

Expedition 1982

Eugenijus Bajoras

The avalanche path.

Twenty five years later we had brought two pieces of Amber - a symbol of homeland coast that wondering Lithuanians often carry with them - one to place on the memorial plaque of Eugenijus and one on the summit. 

We had great conditions and fantastic weather - there was barely any wind on the summit day and it turned out to be a very enjoyable climb. We placed the piece of amber on the summit and stayed there for a a long time to soak in the Pamirs.

My dad in the 80s

2007. My mom, my dad and myself (the boots) in the helicopter that would take us to the basecamp.

***

As I was changing from my skiboots to the climbing boots, my mind was wandering through the alternative scenarios of 1982 and I felt grateful to be alive, at the base of a beautiful mountain wall.

It was really cold for March and the Himalayan training made sense. My boots were holding up great, but we were way too slow. We were placing pitons and peckers to avoid long runouts. Hesitating at the steep starting pitches which crack to take. By the time we were only four pitches up, it got dark and we abseiled down to make a few ski turns in the moonlight.

First pitch. One pecker placed already.

Second pitch. The boots!

Two weeks later the temperatures were higher and there was almost one hour of daylight more. We also learned meanwhile that there in fact already exists a route on this wall, albeit one that starts around 100 meters to the right and only goes to the gully at the mid-height of the wall. We also believe that the face might have been climbed as a summer route but we could not find any information if this was true and where the route would go. For us it was all new, apart from the first four pitches - this time we climbed them reasonably fast and were looking for how to continue our line. Once, a steep, but good looking crack system tempted us to leave a gully. I succumbed and was immediately enjoying strenuous but fun climbing. However, 15 meters up the rock quality deteriorated and I started to look for a place to build a retreat anchor. As I was balancing on one of the ledges my belly (I know, I should go on a diet..) touched a solid-looking granite pillar that collapsed and sent a bunch of rocks down onto Cyrill. Fortunately, he was well protected in an alcove, but the rocks have cut the sheath of both of our ropes. 

Wrong way

Oops

We protected the cores of the ropes by putting a few layers of fingertape on them and then resumed our intended gully. A beautiful and technical pitch took us to the gully, where we had a bit of a break and planned the rest of the route. Cyrill took charge and broke trail for most of the gully where we simulclimbed. We then pitched out for the last bit to reach the ridge and get to the summit. This time I was no longer wearing the Himalayan boots anymore but the tranquility at the peak reminded me of the summit day of Korzhenevskaya. We were early enough on the peak so we had some food, shared a few jokes and stared at the mountains of Engadin, which were about to switch the seasons. 

Solution

Getting into the gully

Cyrill charging

Stoked

Final steps to the summit

Summit selfie, still working on these skills

Topo. Let us know what you think of the route if you get on it.

***

As Cyrill and I were climbing the last pitches of Piz Polaschin, my parents were on their way to get their own snow turns in Engadin. After a few runs in the resort, they went on a skitour up Piz Lagrev that Martynas and I joined as well. A bit of skinning, checking out the Piz Polaschin and a nice ridge to the top made for a great day with a fun ski down. It's already been 14 years since we climbed in Pamirs together and many more years of adventures before that - yet it is still as enjoyable to spend time with them as it was back then.

Up on Piz Lagrev, thanks for the (e)pic, Martynas!