Two proud ski lines. Photo: Matthews Tuffs
Vivian Bruchez, Jules Socié, and Aurélien Lardy make their mark in the Chalten Massif as they repeat an Andreas Fransson test piece.
Oftentimes, the camera lens can skew the difference between absolute and apparent steepness. Sure, a line might be steep in reality, clicking into tiny tech bindings, staring at a 55+ degree slope with an ample abyss just beyond the roll over. Yet photos, sometimes, don’t do it justice. That wasn’t the case Thursday when French ski-mountaineer Vivian Bruchez posted on Instagram about his September 21 ski descent on Aguja Poincenot, in Patagonia’s Chalten Massif, with partners Jules Socié and Aurélien Lardy, which they then followed with a new line on September 22. The images posted make the stomach appropriately uneasy—this is steep skiing from any perspective.
Aguja Poincenot was first climbed in 1962 by Ireland’s Frank Cochrane and the UK’s Don Whillans via what is known as the Whillans-Cochrane route. One aspect of the route, known as the Whillans Ramp, is a long, exposed, and steep thread of snow bisecting the mountain’s east face. Aside from the ramp and hanging snowfield below, this is a big wall theater visited by alpinists and, sometimes, the imaginations of ski mountaineers.
The line was first skied in 2012 by legendary skier Andreas Fransson. (You can read about Fransson’s thoughts on the ski line here. It is truly an excellent read.) Fransson considered the descent, which he skied solo, one of his most, if not the most, technical descent he had skied. This is of note considering his legacy of steep skiing, including Denali’s South Face in 2011, which was filmed by Bjarne Salén—the same Bjarne of The Fifty Project.
Salén accompanied Fransson to the base of the Whillans Ramp in 2012—from there, Fransson quested off alone.
Bruchez, Socié, and Lardy completed the second descent of the storied ramp on the 21st, while the following day they opened new adjacent ski terrain, calling it the “Mini Whillans.”
“This is the ramp of ‘the end of the world,’ we were not here to find the limit; we were here to live the total experience. We were not there to count our turns, but more there to share a unique ski descent! Be in the right place, in the right moment, with the right people!”—Vivian Bruchez
Bruchez noted on his Instagram that Fransson had described the descent as “the steepest and most exposed I’ve had the opportunity to ski.”
In his thoughts about the line, Fransson wrote about style, ego, and who, in the end, he skis for. Fransson set some context by explaining that he had sideslipped some and rappelled roughly 15m.
“But when we are arguing about these things we have kind of lost the thin red line of purpose in the first place,” wrote Fransson. “If we are thinking of these things, then there is a risk that we are playing this game for others and not for ourselves. Is it worth risking your life to make others think you are cool, a great skier, have courage, are a great alpinist or something else?”
Ascending the Whillans Ramp: the ski objective of the day. Photo: Vivian Bruchez
According to Socié’s posts, they intended to link the two lines they skied on the 21st and 22nd. “The original idea was to chain directly to a second ramp, ‘The Mini Whillans,’ but after leaving all of our energy on the Poincenot needle, we made the choice to go back to camp and push that ramp the next day,” wrote Socié.
In an email exchange with Bruchez, we gain more insight into how the three Frenchmen settled into life in Patagonia to capitalize on the perfect window. The trio decided on a nearly two-month stay in the region as the weather, Bruchez writes, can be “complicated.” Yet patience paid dividends as they were eventually rewarded with a week of settled weather with little to no wind and stable snow conditions.
As part of their prep and learning process—to better understand the snowpack—Bruchez explained they built up to the primary objective on Aguja Poincenot.
“We skied 3 lines at the beginning of the week inside of the [Chalten Massif], and we found great snow conditions, stable snowpack; the temperature stayed cold, so we decided to have a look and try at the end of the week,” Bruchez explained. “During all the day, we scouted the line, we were very aware about all the information given by the mountain!”
Deep breaths and precise turns in the lower section of the ramp.
As a climbing objective by today’s standards, Bruchez wrote the line is not super technical. As a ski line, the route takes on a different tenor. “The steepest is around 55 at the beginning and very narrow, the middle part was icy, and we needed to put on the rope during the ski descent—the top part is the most skiable part of the line but really exposed, the snow was soft, a bit melted (spring snow),” he added.
At 36 years old and having pushed the boundaries of modern ski mountaineering for years, he overlapped with Fransson in Chamonix years ago.
“I knew Andreas,” noted Bruchez. “I met him a few times in Chamonix. At this time we skied in the same terrain. I followed him on his blog, I read all the stories he posted on his blog, and found inspiration. I remember when he did this ski descent here in Patagonia, the (Whillans-Cochrane Ramp), and I was impressed! Aurélien Lardy (26) and Jules Socié (27), ‘the young French guns from the Alps,’ are younger than me and this line was the main goal of their trip, because this descent means a lot for them in terms of commitment and technicality…I define this ski descent as the most exposed and scenic ski line in the world; that’s on the top list of my ski descents. That’s the highest ski line on one of the most known skylines and ranges in the world.”
The glow is real: Vivian Bruchez with Aguja Poincenot and the two ski lines in the background. Photo courtesy Vivian Bruchez
After the first descent, it is no surprise that Fransson’s thoughts delved into the philosophical. Intense experiences often elicit ruminations in the post-physical and spiritual high.
As with most human endeavors, we are quick to categorize. In sharp end ski mountaineering, some get tense about documenting the meters side slipped or rappelled. Franssom gives perspective to this style debate in his writing—he says these endeavors are more than that, and they are personal.
“250 vertical meters of snow, ice and rock might seem insignificant, but like anything in life, if the timing is right it can also be magic because enchantments see no limits,” Fransson wrote in 2012 about the Whillans Ramp. “For me this was magic and I got what I came for. I understand the different feelings people get from this but be aware: If you start looking down judging what others do, first look into your own life and all your own little battles. We are all here to learn, and it might just not be so, that reality is built up exactly like you were taught in school.”
Bruchez had similar sentiments with a foundational understanding that skiing objectives like this are supremely personal and the settings are otherworldly.
“This is the ramp of ‘the end of the world,’ we were not here to find the limit; we were here to live the total experience. We were not there to count our turns, but more there to share a unique ski descent! Be in the right place, in the right moment, with the right people!”
