The old fat guy gets a butt kicking in Viejolandia

The climbing area in Sierra de los Difuntos known as Viejolandia

Leaving Balcarce and heading southeasterly towards the town of Mar del Plata, the national highway Ruta 226 winds its way through the steep-sided mesas of the Sierras of Balcarce for a distance of about 30 miles until reaching the hills of Sierra de los Padres, a few miles from the sea. The last major formation on this journey, before the smaller collection of hills that make up Sierra de los Padres, is known as Sierra de los Difuntos. Since I first saw Difuntos, almost 17 years ago, the sight of this pretty mesa rising above the surrounding farmlands has carried a special meaning to me.

In the year 1995, Gaby and I were recently married and living in Córdoba. My two year stint at the University of Córdoba was ending and Gaby didn't seem interested in moving to the US. We had both been able to get jobs near Balcarce and decided to move there. The catch was I'd never even seen the place. I had seen a few promising black and white photos of climbing in Sierra La Vigilancia and some climbers from Córdoba had talked about a basically undeveloped climbing area near Barker. But none of the local climbers from Córdoba seemed very enthusiastic about the climbing possibilities in the Sierras of Balcarce. On top of that, I wasn't too excited about settling down to live in Argentina. But at least Gaby and I would both have jobs, which was good. What would we find?

Gaby had left Córdoba first, to begin her job as a statistics professor working in the agricultural school of the University of Mar del Plata, which is situated about 10 miles outside of Balcarce. I left about a week or so later, after a prolonged vacation climbing in the Sierras of Córdoba. Before leaving, I could tell from phone conversations with Gaby, that she was not doing very well alone, so when I left to join her I was anxious, to say the least. For the time being, she was staying in an apatment in Mar del Plata that belonged to a relative and we planned to find a place to rent in Balcarce after I arrived.

The 700 mile drive from Córdoba to Balcarce traverses a part of Argentina that is almost entirely flat and empty. For hours and hours one passes through farmlands, marshes, fields and the occasional small town. It was winter time, the dry season, and the surrounding fields looked flat, brown and barren. Dust and  tumbleweeds blew across the road and the small towns looked meager and uninviting. Looking around, I thought: I could never live in a place like this. By the time I was anywhere near the Sierras of Balcarce, it was nightime, so I had no idea what kind of territory I was driving through. When I finally got to the apartment where Gaby was staying I could see why she was depressed. It was a cold, one room cell block, stacked full of stored up junk, with one tiny window looking out on a gray, cement wall. That night Gaby and I squabbled and I got so pissed I went out for a walk alone. Things were looking pretty grim for life in Balcarce.

The next day dawned cold and clear. One of those beautiful winter mornings we sometimes have, when the wind is calm, the fields, green with a hint of spring, are blanketed with white frost and the sun suddenly awakes to a brilliant blue sky, radiating the surrounding countrside with a myriad of colors. I drove Gaby the 40 miles to work from Mar del Plata. This stretch of road, in my opinion, is one of the prettiest in the country. Where  the road passes below the steep sides of the Sierra de los Difuntos, I impulsively pulled the car over to the side and went running full speed across the fields to check out the nearest boulder. Was the rock suitable for climbing? I'm sure Gaby needed to get to work, but she was tolerant with my sudden burst of enthusiam. When I reached the boulder, the rock was unlike anything I'd seen before, but it was angular and very solid. I could tell it would make for excellent climbing. I looked up at the line of cliffs above and imagined the possibilty of dozens, maybe hundreds of routes. I felt like I'd found a home.

The old fat guy ready to cross the field below Sierra de los Difuntos

There are several different climbing areas spread out over Difuntos. The sector known as Viejolandia is the official beginner area and perhaps the most popular climbing zone in the Sierras of Balcarce. It supports about ten short routes from 5.6 to 5.8 range, one 5.9, one easy 5.10, one solid 5.10 and one 5.11 route. I had climbed there a few times, years back, but generally looked down on the area as too easy and uninteresting. Just another overcrowded beginner area. Actually, even when I was climbing stronger, the routes in Viejolandia had felt greasy and awkward. I found myself forcing highsteps to get past weird, slippery sections. Now that I'm an old fat guy with a recent hip replacement on one side and osteoarthritis on the other, Viejolandia could be a whole different story.

Last Saturday, Martin, Analia, Rafael, Gaby, Ceci and I went out to climb at Viejolandia. Two months and 20 days since my revision surgery. In spite of the easier grades, this would prove more of a challenge than the routes in the bosque because, for one thing I had already relearned how to do many of the routes in the bosque with my botched hip resurfacing. Last time I'd climbed in Viejolandia, I didn't even know I had osteoarthritis. Even then, the routes had felt awkward and high-steppy for the grades. So I would be putting myself in a a more insecure situation than simply repeating harder graded routes from the bosque that I already had wired.

Martin points the way to Viejolandia

The sector of Viejolandia as seen from the approach hike

I started the day with a couple of 5.8s. These went pretty smoothly, in spite of some greasy, high-stepping  starts.  

Ceci toproping the first 5.8 we did

Nice footwork, Ceci.

Smile fot the camera

Meanwhile, Martin and Analia started out on the long 5.10a route. 

Ananlia toproping the 5.10a route

The 5.10a section is passing the roof above, on the left

Martin looking scary.

The next route I did was a 5.9 with a very greasy high step at the start. The first time up I slipped, because of a wishy-washy foot placement. Then I led the route two times, feeling pretty solid. 

The old fat guy working the high-steps

The old fat guy's butt going up a 5.9

The next route I tried was the 5.10 and this one spanked me. I fought hard to get the second clip, because I was afraid of the fall on the crux. After that I struggeled to pull the move. I ended up hanging just after the crux, because I was pumped and once again afraid to fall. Near the top, I ended up lowering off, after flailing at the last move, which is a vicious highstep with a potential hip-wrenching fall back on a ledge. It's been a long time since a route left me a blubbering mess. Years. But I guess putting yourself in that kind of situation is part of what climbing is all about. At any rate, this simple 5.10 sport route is not nearly as heroic as I'm making it sound. It was just hard for me, that day.

After my attempt at the 5.10, I led a 5.7 bolted crack. Then I went back and successful sent the 5.10 on toprope. I had to balance over my left knee for one brief moment on the vicious highstep at the top, but the move worked out just fine. 

All and all a wonderful day, in spite of my humiliating performance, and the muscular soreness I felt afterword was accompanied by a healthy sensation of recuperation. 

Unknown climber on the 5.7 bolted crack

My dog Mica imitates the big eye effect of Puss in Boots