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The Dolomites are one of Europe’s most majestic mountains. With their sharp ridges, towering peaks, and sheer walls, the “pale mountains” have attracted climbers worldwide for more than a century. However, Italian climber Emilio Comici defined today’s modern climbing in the Dolomites, pioneering some of the most challenging routes in the region.

Emilio Comici was not a mountaineer who grew up among the peaks. Born in Trieste on February 21, 1901, to a Veronese mother and a Triestine father, he attended compulsory schools without excelling in his studies and was hired at the age of 15 by the Magazzini Generali of Trieste for a clerical position. Since childhood, he frequented the Pitteri Recreational Center of the National League, and when he turned eighteen and could no longer attend due to age limits, he joined the “XXX Ottobre,” a new sports association that practiced gymnastics, athletics, cycling, football, and rowing. A speleological group was added to these sections, and Comici, although excelling in other sports activities, joined promptly.

His first contacts with the Alps, therefore, took place in the depths of the karst caves, but when the young Comici accidentally discovered the practice of mountaineering in the mid-1920s, his life changed radically. He began to frequent the walls of Val Rosandra with his friends and progressed so quickly that he founded the first mountaineering school in 1929. He decided that this would be his life and, after much insistence, managed to move to Misurina and become an alpine guide in 1932. In the world of climbers, he immediately became a legend: “Comici suffered and enjoyed the mountain” writes Mario Cecere, “exalted and blasphemed it, dominated it and was afraid of it; he himself was a refined pianist, an eclectic person who drew for himself and for the Alp lovers an ascending and joyful line.”

In 1921, Emilio Comici joined the irredentist circles of Trieste and enrolled in the National Fascist Party and from 1938 until his death, Comici held the position of fascist mayor of Selva di Gardena. Indeed, Emilio Comici was a fascist. But his greatness lay elsewhere. Not in politics, not in public life, which he avoided like the plague.

As already mentioned, Emilio Comici is a convinced fascist. In theory, he has all the credentials to become a symbol of the Mussolini regime, which celebrates mountaineering as the ideal discipline for the “new man”. However, the Trieste climber is also a loner, perhaps even shy, and does not take advantage of his position. It should also be added that he himself appears as a somewhat eccentric character, compared to the rhetoric of the Ventennio. “During bivouacs, he talked to the stars” Cecere writes, “and when he walked on earth and taught skiing, he always appeared different from other men: despite the erotic impulse he felt for the mountains”. Comici was not the typical “vitalist” of the time, and it would be pitifully wrong to draw, from the title “Heroic Mountaineering” given to the chronicles of his intrepid climbs, only a conformist toll, with a romantic aftertaste, to a Faustian impulse or a supposed demagogy of the regime”.

Those who knew him up close say that there was something religious in Emilio Comici’s approach to the peaks. As he himself seems to confirm in this statement: “On the mountains, we feel the joy of living, the emotion of feeling good and the relief of forgetting earthly things; all this because we are closer to heaven”.

As already mentioned, Emilio Comici is a convinced fascist. In theory, he has all the credentials to become a symbol of the Mussolini regime, which celebrates mountaineering as the ideal discipline for the “new man”. However, the Trieste climber is also a loner, perhaps even shy, and does not take advantage of his position. It should also be added that he himself appears as a somewhat eccentric character, compared to the rhetoric of the Ventennio. “During bivouacs, he talked to the stars” Cecere writes, “and when he walked on earth and taught skiing, he always appeared different from other men: despite the erotic impulse he felt for the mountains”. Comici was not the typical “vitalist” of the time, and it would be pitifully wrong to draw, from the title “Heroic Mountaineering” given to the chronicles of his intrepid climbs, only a conformist toll, with a romantic aftertaste, to a Faustian impulse or a supposed demagogy of the regime”.

Those who knew him up close say that there was something religious in Emilio Comici’s approach to the peaks. As he himself seems to confirm in this statement: “On the mountains, we feel the joy of living, the emotion of feeling good and the relief of forgetting earthly things; all this because we are closer to heaven”.

But fate often plays tricks even on the bravest men. Thus the life of the climber who had risked his life every day on the steepest peaks of the Dolomites ends with an almost banal accident, right in Selva di Val Gardena. It is October 19, 1941, and Comici is climbing a wall for beginners with friends who are not very experienced in mountaineering. Trying to give advice to a friend, Emilio leans out, relying only on a cord, which is not even his. But the rope is rotten, it suddenly breaks under his weight, and he falls for 40 meters. He falls onto a meadow, but to make matters worse, he hits his head on a rock hidden in the grass and dies on the spot.

The Zsigmondy-Comici refuge, located at an altitude of 2,224 meters, is named after Emilio Comici. In addition to his climbing skills, Comici is also remembered for his aesthetic conception of climbing, which he viewed as an opportunity to express oneself through harmonious movement. He wrote the book “Alpinismo Eroico” which reflects the rhetoric of the historical period.

Emilio Comici is also commemorated with the Comici refuge in the Piz Sella-Plan del Gralba area at the foot of the Sassolungo, the Zsigmondy-Comici refuge at Piani di Rio di Sopra under the Croda dei Toni in the municipality of Sesto, the Comici bivouac in the Busa del Banco in the Auronzo di Cadore area, a commemorative stone, and the Emilio Comici National School of Mountaineering of the Alpina delle Giulie section of the CAI in Trieste.

Dru, guttural and syncopated sound. A synthesis, at times dramatic, of the aesthetics and mountaineering aspirations of several generations and schools of extreme climbers: ‘One of the purest wonders of the Mont Blanc chain’, is how the Vallot Guide, bible of Europe’s highest mountain, describes it.

The Dru was the place of perfect mountaineering and psychological redemption to the frustration suffered the year before by Walter Bonatti on the other extreme symbol of alpinism: K2.

It is 1955, and on 17 August Bonatti begins his solo adventure on the ‘Dru Pillar’, which from then on will become the ‘Bonatti Pillar’.

The solitude

He masterfully climbs the initial and middle part of the wall for four days, always with extreme difficulties, adopting a safety technique that forces him first to climb self-belayed, then to descend by retrieving the pitons and then to climb back up on the ropes. The rucksack is very heavy, the weather at one point breaks down then improves, in the struggle with the granite he gets more than one injury to his hands and arms. It is, however, the psychological burden that is the hardest to carry: “The solitude that accompanies me is so absolute, so hallucinating, that several times I find myself talking unconsciously, making considerations aloud, in short, translating into words all the thoughts that go through my mind. I even find myself talking to the sack, as if it had a soul, as if it were a real climbing partner.”

On the fifth day, Bonatti is at the ‘red plates’, above the grey overhangs that precede the last quarter of the climb. He is at the bottom of an enormous shell with the upper edges protruding over 800 metres of void. His analytical and meticulous brain considers the few possibilities of ascending, decides on a crack to the left, but after 20 metres it becomes impassable.

He hears an ‘aerino’ buzzing nearby, he sees it, leans out with an arm and a leg, but a white cloud engulfs and hides him; the buzzing goes away and the loneliness becomes even more oppressive.

By midday he is still standing on the ledge where he had bivouacked.

Bonatti route depicted in 1955

Genius and folly

The idea is brilliant and crazy at the same time. On the right Bonatti glimpses a crack, which he guesses to be of a suitable size to receive the pitons he has with him and which would take him out of the overhangs. But it is little more than an intuition. He could rely on pendulums in the void to reach it. The manoeuvre is daring and unusual, of course, alone then, on that wall – madness! But it is also as rational as Bonatti, who knows that that is the only way out.

There are three ‘pendulas’ that he makes, for about 40 metres. The last one takes him to an ‘aerial step’ beyond which the Dru has unexpectedly sucked in a portion of the rocks, grips included. Nothingness, smooth and overhanging, divides him from the saving crack. A return is precluded: the pendulums were descending to the right and ascending them is out of the question. The crack is at 15 metres and total despair, for a whole hour, minute after minute.

Then the flash. The idea is once again brilliant, perverse, daring: it is the only one.

Above him at 12 metres there is an outgrowth of granite blades, they seem unbalanced, precarious, but perhaps not. He thinks and acts: he ties knots in the rope and, like a ‘bolas’, throws it over the blades in the hope that it will click and hook, but above all that it will support him. 10, 30, 50 attempts. Then finally the rope snaps. It is a an extreme gamble. He secures himself with the other rope, but if something didn’t work, it would still be a disaster. He throws himself with his eyes closed, with all his breath in. He holds on, climbs up the rope and finally pours exhausted and congested onto the granite blades that were clearly not so precarious.

This blogpost is a translation of an article appeared on Montagna.tv. We link here the original: https://www.montagna.tv/166979/il-riscatto-di-walter-bonatti-sul-dru/

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Skiing has been an integral part of Norwegian culture for thousands of years. The sport is intertwined with the country’s rich historical heritage and traditions for good and obvious reasons. Norway is known for its magnificent white landscapes; the fjords and fjellos are spread all over the mighty land, which makes sliding on snow and ice very accessible.

From the ancient times to the modern era, skiing has played a significant role in the lives of Norwegians and has shaped the country into the skiing destination that it is today.

The origins of skiing can be traced back to the Stone Age, when the Vikings used skis to travel across the snowy terrain of Norway. These early skis were made of animal bones and were used for transportation and hunting. The sport of skiing, as we know it today, evolved from these early skis, and it is believed that the first organized ski competition was held in Norway in the 18th century.

One of the key figures in the history of skiing in Norway is Sondre Norheim. Born in Morgedal, Norway in 1825, Norheim was a ski maker and skier who is credited with revolutionizing the sport. He developed the Telemark turn, which involved a distinctive knee bend and sweeping motion, and is still used by Telemark skiers today. Norheim’s innovations and skills on the ski slopes earned him the title of the “father of modern skiing.”

Another important figure in the history of skiing in Norway is Fridtjof Nansen, a scientist, explorer, and skier who lived from 1861 to 1930. Nansen was one of the first people to use skis for exploration, and he used them to cross the Greenland ice cap in 1888. His adventures on skis inspired others to take up the sport and helped to establish skiing as a popular activity in Norway.

In the 20th century, Norway continued to play a key role in the development of skiing. The country hosted the first Winter Olympics in 1924, and it has since become a major destination for ski enthusiasts from all over the world. Today, Norway is home to some of the world’s best ski resorts, including Hemsedal, Geilo, and Trysil, and it continues to be a leader in the sport.

In conclusion, the history of skiing in Norway is rich and fascinating, and it is intertwined with the country’s heritage and traditions. From the early days of the Vikings to the modern era, skiing has played a significant role in the lives of Norwegians, and the sport has shaped the country into the skiing destination that it is today. From Sondre Norheim and Fridtjof Nansen to the many ski enthusiasts of today, the legacy of skiing in Norway lives on.

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Painting by Knud Bergslien (1827–1908)

Skiing Birchlegs Crossing the Mountain with the Royal Child (Norwegian: Birkebeinerne), 1989. Collection: The Ski Museum. Holmenkollen, Oslo

Description: Depiction of Birkebeiner skiers carrying Prince Haakon to safety during the winter of 1206 has become a national Norwegian icon. The prince grew up to be King Haakon IV whose reign marked the end of the period known as the Civil war era in Norway, foto©: O. Væring Eftf. AS”Oslo/Norway www.ovaering.no.