After spending a month in the Ak Su valley, nestled in the mountains in the southwest corner of Kyrgyzstan, I returned home feeling full and peaceful. Beyond our climbing accomplishments, I’m deeply grateful to have shared this experience with these three amazing women. Their support, openness and compassion… this is what made the trip so special. In turn, this social environment I believe is what allowed us to dig deep and rise to the challenges before us, together.
The exact line of the Tajikistan-Kyrgyzstan border in that region had only been decided after some tense negotiations a couple of years ago. There was a military base at the entrance to the rough roads leading into the valley, where we had to show our passports and permits before driving through. Words were exchanged in Kyrgyz between the military and our drivers before we carried on.
In a jet-lagged daze after 72 hours of continuous travel, I watched out my window as our drivers steered the 4x4 jeeps down steep switchbacks into the Karabshin valley, and then along the river to the end of the passable route several hours later. There we met the shepherds and their horses and donkeys who would take us on the 20km uphill trek into the AkSu. Almost there!
Our team consisted of:
- Fiona Layton (26), the mastermind, the expedition initiator, the dreamer, the medical wizard (a nurse by profession) and the youngest on the team although you’d never know it given her vast knowledge and technical skills;
- Cat Gerras (34), the wild soul, the only team member I’d never met before, the undercover crusher, the alpine wizard with a sturdy head for runouts, the zen master and lifelong learner;
- Alexa Flower (35), the photographer extraordinaire, the big wall mentor, the Yosemite search and rescue alumni, the speed jugger and the sweetest and compassionate human;
- and myself (32), the tallest team member at a towering 5’5’’, the Canadian amongst Americans, a big wall free climbing specialist gone sport climber following a burn out a few years ago… This would be my first expedition in three years.
We spent the first week or so doing day missions from basecamp, hiking loads up the talus to the wall and fixing our ropes up the first several pitches of our main objective – a line established by the Americans Berry, Bissell, Barghahn and Allfrey in 2019. It was nearly 1000 meters tall with technical difficulties up to 5.13.
Personally this goal felt overwhelming – specifically I feared becoming attached to an ambitious objective – so I set a personal intention of being curious, open to many possibilities and, above all, gentler to myself. Since our first video call, it seemed clear this was going to be a supportive, compassionate team. Everyone was excited to play a part of a collective effort to make the experience a success for each individual. That can be really hard to do in a team of very goal-driven athletes!
The first few climbing days I felt rusty. I was overgripping and scared to fall off, despite the falls being very safe, but after a few days I started to relax and get into the groove. I sent the crux (pitch 2) on my first lead attempt (after working it a few times on a microtraction), in one of those beautiful moments when everything flows – complete focus and utter willingness to try my best. Committing to the insecure moves, I danced up the delicate face. I hadn’t felt this feeling in a long time.
A few days later we committed to our wall push, a little earlier than we’d hoped because of a big storm lurking at the end of the forecast. We hiked up the steep talus with our final supplies. Here we go!
We made it to our first wall bivvy at 1am. Yikes! We were four people, climbing together for the first time, with three of us trying to free the wall and a photographer, and hauling a week’s worth of food and water up with us. We were not moving fast (Though luckily our efficiency did improve substantially after that first day!).
The next morning we slept in. Oups! We had a long wall ahead of us and still needed to send the intimidating “Kyrgyz Monster” offwidth below our camp (Cat had resorted to aiding the pitch at midnight and the rest of us had ascended the ropes). Fiona rapped down to top rope the offwidth, while Cat and I freed the next pitch above camp — a beautiful long 12a. With a good fight in the crux, I onsighted the pitch, fixed the rope for Cat to follow and then headed down to join Fiona. As I arrived at the lower anchor, however, dark clouds blew in. It looked for a moment like it might pass, but then a mixture of rain and hail started pelting the cliff. I ascended the ropes as fast as I could and we rapidly buckled down our camp for the storm! Alexa and Fiona crawled into their hanging tent. Huddling under the small tarp on the rocky ledge with Cat, we heated up dinner and hunkered in for the evening.
It rained all night. When we woke in the morning, the cliff face and all our gear and ropes were soaking wet. Luckily the winds picked up and everything dried surprisingly fast! At around noon, I rapped in for a last-ditch attempt at the offwidth, while the other girls ascended our fixed rope above to start hauling the bags. Teamwork at its finest!
I sent the offwidth on top rope and radioed up to Cat to come down and give a proper shot. “I’m good!” Cat shouted down. “I’m just gonna help with the hauling!” as she and Fiona were setting up the 2:1 mechanical advantage system. Her response was confusing to me, but oddly refreshing. The Big Wall systems were new to Cat and she wanted to jump on the opportunity to learn. “Ok, I’ll head up shortly!”
That evening we arrived at the plush bivy at pitch 12, just as the last light was fading, shedding a pink-ish purple glow across the mountains. We all sat on the rocky ledge for a moment in silence, taking it all in, before turning on headlamps to bundle up in all our puffy layers, cook dinner and finally set up our sleeping systems for our third night of vertical camping.
In the end we managed to arrive at the summit after 5 days on the wall, Fiona and I both freeing every pitch and Cat all but a few pitches (because she’s too zen). After a long night of rappelling (a rush before the coming storm!), we got back to the Ak Su valley basecamp at 4am, eerily close to the first raindrops.
After a couple days of rest during the bad weather, Cat and I got psyched to attempt an alpine-style push up the famous Perestroika Crack. First freed by Lyn Hill and Greg Child in 1995, the striking line up the east face of Slesova boasted nearly continuous hand cracks on immaculate granite for 800m – it sounded too good to be true! Far from recovered after the first wall, we set off up the talus approach with light packs and little expectations…
After 600m of splitter cracks, we arrived at the crux pitches (15 and 16) late in the day, and feeling rough: “Ouff. Looks steep and burly, eh!” I said. "Yeah I’ll give it a try and we can bail if we aren’t feeling it.” Cat replied. And then she proceeded to put forward an amazing effort, onsighting the pitch! I was captivated, witnessing her focus and deep breathing as she worked through the puzzle with just enough juice to squeak out the send. With renewed energy, I copied her beta (we are almost identical in body shape and dimensions) and sent on top rope.
We took a snack and water break at the next anchor then I started nervously up the narrow seam above us. Higher and higher, I placed a few tiny pieces of pro and then clipped a fixed beak. Higher and higher, trusting the slippery walls, very aware that I was getting further above the old beak (and trying not to think about falling and having it ping out of the rock and into my face!).
Focus. You can do this. I shook out each arm, matching my hands in a small pin scar to relieve the pump. The seam was still too small to fit any gear…I kept going.
Finally I was able to place a Zero Friend and soon the challenge level eased off. I tip-toed across an exposed slab traverse and clipped into the anchor. Cat followed the pitch clean, and I watched in awe as she danced across the final slab traversing toward me, the purple glow of the sunset silhouetting the skyline of the mountains behind her. “You look so epic right now!!”
We shared a big hug when she arrived. What an adventure and a privilege to be here right now. Cat had been the one team member that I didn’t know before the trip. At this moment I felt like we had been friends for years. The summit was still several pitches away, on more moderate terrain. We decided to start heading down instead, both very satisfied at the experience this route had already provided us. It felt odd to me at first, but I didn’t need to keep going for the checkmark. I felt a certain peace that came with this decision. We snapped a “high point” selfie to mark the moment and then began threading the ropes for the long descent …
Trip Climbing Summary:
● The American Way (950m, 5.13a), Slesova — Free repeat, fixing the initial crux pitches and then a five day wall push, including weathering a small storm! FULL TEAM
● Perestroika Crack (900m, 5.12a), Slesova — Onsight, until a few pitches from the submit (because it was a beautiful sunset and it’s about the experience not the checkmark!) Cat and Bron
● A handful of smaller missions close to camp.
Enjoy the Film by Bronwyn:
