The ascent of the Dülfer Pinnacle, a dream come true
A true story by Fabio Bellotto – It happened on September 13, 2006
I have been climbing for many years — 51, to be exact — with a passion far greater than my abilities. A passion that, instead of gently adapting to the inevitable physical decline, keeps pushing me to look upward, keeping alive the memory of so many beautiful ascents.
When I was in high school at the Dolomiti Pio X in Borca di Cadore, my science teacher, Dr. Giovanni Orsoni, took me climbing for the first time, leading me up the Torre Grande d’Averau.
It was the first of a very long — and still unbroken — series of climbs. I treasure unforgettable memories of those ascents: joy, effort, apprehension, satisfaction, and a profound human and cultural growth that brought me close to many friends and mountain professionals to whom I remain deeply connected.
Among them, Enrico Maioni stands out not only for his mountaineering skills but also for his human qualities.
To be honest, quite a few mountaineers surprisingly combine strength of character with deep sensitivity. After all, within the wide range of motivations — not all of them necessarily positive — that drive us up the rock faces, being sensitive is, for some, a prerequisite: the starting point, the spark of a great passion.
Enrico, in particular, has always amazed me with this combination of being both strong and gentle at the same time — technically and physically exceptionally prepared, yet extremely kind, attentive to the emotions of those who place their trust in him. Perhaps it is precisely for this reason that we became such close friends.
When Gianni first told me about the south arete of the Dülfer Tower, it was because of an accident that had occurred there — one that nearly cost the life of a mutual friend. We went to visit him at the hospital in Pieve, once he was out of danger, and he told us about the moving beauty of the climb and the dreadful descent, with endless abseils at a time when we didn’t yet use harnesses or belay devices, and when anchors were often far from reliable.
A certain sense of fear remained in me toward that slender spire, beautiful in its pale yellow livery, which from the Rifugio Città di Carpi is hard to recognize in all its elegance, appearing almost flattened against the southern buttresses of the Cadini di Misurina.
For years I looked at the Dülfer Pinnacle as an unattainable goal. I had gone to the base of the route, traced its line over and over with my eyes while reading every description, and imagined the various moves, tasting in advance — with a touch of fear — the exposure. Until, after a full 40 years, I finally decided it was time to climb it, encouraged by Enrico’s reassuring approval and swept up by the contagious enthusiasm of a dear friend and colleague of mine, Dr. Mimmo Scrutinio from Bari, who happened to be in Cortina for a medical conference the two of us had organized.
DÜLFER PINNACLE – 2706 m – Via the South Arete
First ascent: H. Dülfer and W. F. von Bernuth – 25/08/1913
Crossing the snow saddle from the north, we soon reached the start of the route on a perfect day — one that Berti would not have hesitated to call “of Olympic beauty.” At the base of the Dülfer Pinnacle, still in the shade, the rock was cold, yet the three of us felt that mixture of anxiety and irrepressible joy that all climbers experience as they tie themselves to one another.
A short bulge, an oblique ramp trending right and then left — not difficult, but immediately exposed — led us to a steep yellow dihedral: short, demanding, but bathed in sunlight. After that, we traversed a ledge to the left in full exposure, fortunately equipped with all the holds one could wish for, both for hands and feet.
We continued straight up a vertical grey dihedral-crack, incredibly solid, and then climbed the wall above, amazed at how moderate the difficulty remained despite the rock’s colour and the absolute void surrounding us.
Another grey dihedral followed, slightly slanting to the right, leading us directly onto the arete — now truly airy and vertical. We followed it along the edge at first, then stepped over to the right, moving up a crack system that turned from yellow to grey, until reaching a band of overhanging yellow rock, which we overcame by traversing further to the right.
These pitches — this one and the next (graded IV+), first up a dihedral and then along the crack formed by a detached yellow slab — are indescribably beautiful. They made me reflect on the mountaineering skill and courage of the young Dülfer, who at just 21 years old climbed this incredible labyrinth of moves without knowing where they would lead him.
The final pitch, still vertical and extremely exposed, first trending left, then right to regain the arete, and finally following its edge with decreasing difficulty, brought us — delighted — to the tiny summit.
That day, and every time I have gone to admire “my” pinnacle from the Rifugio Città di Carpi, I have found myself thinking of the first man who dared to conceive such an audacious line. Equipped with protection that today seems almost nonexistent, Dülfer climbed this route and then descended using an abseiling technique he himself invented: the Dülfersitz. An extraordinary alpinist, Hans Dülfer gave his life for his country at only 23 years old, after gifting us — among the many routes that bear his name — this one, which deserves to be climbed with admiration and gratitude, if only to honour his memory.
That day — and every time I later returned to admire “my” pinnacle from the Rifugio Città di Carpi — I could not help thinking of the first man who dared to imagine such a bold route, equipped as he was with protection that today seems almost negligible, and who used, for the descent, an abseiling technique of his own invention: the Dülfersitz.
A truly extraordinary alpinist, Hans Dülfer gave his life for his country at only 23 years of age, after leaving us — among the many routes that bear his name — this one, which should be climbed with admiration and gratitude, if for no other reason than to honour his memory.
