0700, Base Camp, Torres del Paine. Wow, what a perfect timing. Just as I start to wonder how to get up and run to the kitchen shelter without getting wet, the rain stops. So I hurry, and get out of my bag, out of my damp tent, before the rain desides to start falling again. It has been raining for over a day now, and nobody wants to think about what our rock face must look like. But like it or not, today we will be confronted with the facts, for tomorrow we start climbing.

1150, Advanced Base Camp, Torres del Paine. Digging into haulbags, desperately looking for some climbing gear I am sure that has been carried up here, Ron shouts that he's found some. Together we prepare a reconaissance of the face, as well as fixing a line on the rognon, halfway the glacier. Meanwhile, Gerke and Martin are digging in the same haulbags, looking for gear to install our second tent.

1450, Rognon, Torres del Paine. "I have never seen this kind of crumbly shit in the Alps" I say to Ronald. The couloir we are facing, the 'easiest' way to get on top of the rognon, is an unimaginable masterpiece of shattered rock, jammed together. Loosening one piece seems to trigger the other 10000, but we decide that, for the moment, this is our only way up. Not happy with the fact, both Ronald and I solo it up, one at a time, the pile of rock at the foot of the gully increasing with every movement we make.

1530, Rognon, Torres del Paine. On top of the rognon, this flat island on the glacier, we have a clear an unobstructed view of the Cetral tower del Paine in front of us. Only 300 metres seperate us from the awesome 1200 metre wall of compact granite. What we feared this morning is true: the lower slabs of the face are wet, and half of it is covered with snow patches. In Chamonix, I wouldn't have bothered. I would turn around and come back two weaks later, letting the sun do what it's good at. Not here. Patagonia summers don't have 14 days of sunny weather. Hell, does it have some?

1715, Advanced Base Camp, Torres del Paine. Returning back into ABC, we admire Gerke and Martins work. They erected and enlardged stone walls to shield the tents from the wind, got us a water stock, and organised all sack's and bags. While Gerke starts cooking a meal, Ron and I report what we find out about the start of the route: shocking little. No visible belays, no 'characteristic little roof', no clue. Alle we can tell is that, with all snow that covers the first pitches, it is going to be a tough day tomorrow. "So guys, who's leading the first pitch then, aye?"

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welcome to monday 17th of january