| Summary | None |
| Owner | Eric Gilbertson |
| Creation Date | 2012-07-21 22:12:13 UTC-0400 |
| Description | Pedra da Gavea (2762ft) – Brazil
Largest coastal monolith in the world Eric Gilbertson July 9, 2012 12pm – 3:30pm Links: Adventures Webpage Pedra da Gavea is, according to Wikipedia, the world’s largest monolith on a coastline and is conveniently located within the city limits of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. It’s a very convenient mountain indeed if you just happen to be attending a conference held at the Windsor Barra Hotel, only 2.1 miles line-of-sight from the trailhead. Pedra da Gavea is Portuguese for “Rock of the Topsail”, and it looks like someone airlifted Halfdome out of Yosemite, dropped it off down in the middle of a huge metropolitan area, and then sprinkled palm trees and jungle all around it. The mountain looks pretty impenetrable, with vertical cliffs almost completely surrounding it. However there is one fourth-class weakness on the southwest face that offers passage to the summit. I stared at this mountain every day for a week out my hotel window at the Windsor Barra, vowing to find a way up. My opportunity came during a 10-hour layover in Rio en route to Boston from Tierra del Fuego. I had stored a laptop at the hotel over the weekend while I flew down to the southern tip of South America for a few days of hiking in the snow. Sunday night I traded the cold and snow of Ushuaia for the lush jungles of Rio, with my plane touching down at 11am. My plan was to tag Pedra da Gavea, walk back to my hotel to pick up the laptop, then find my way back to the airport before a 9pm flight I immediately hopped into a taxi and pointed to the end of Estrada Sorima on the map. The driver didn’t speak any English, and I didn’t speak any Portuguese, but we headed off anyways. When we got close it was apparent the driver didn’t really know how to get to this location. He stopped at a gas station and jumped out to question some guys standing outside. He gave me the thumbs up when he jumped back in, and we kept driving. We soon found Estrada Sorima and he dropped me off in a little park. I didn’t see any obvious trailheads, only gated access roads to fancy houses. I whipped out my gps and zoomed in on a satellite image I had loaded and deduced the trail must start on the other side of one of those gates. I approached a gate and was greeted by a security guard. “Queria subir a Pedra da Gavea,” I said, hoping spanish was similar to Portuguese. He smiled and opened the gate, nodding and saying something in Portuguese while pointing up to the mountain. He then motioned to the wet road and said something that seemed like “be careful, it’s slippery.” I waved goodbye and started walking up the road through a wealthy residential area. The road soon turned to dirt and the houses were replaced by jungle. I soon came upon a trailhead sign and a little guardhouse with a guy inside watching a soccer game. He pointed to the top and asked “cima?” “Si,” I replied. He handed me a form and I entered my name, emergency contact information, and time of departure. This mountain was seeming a little more serious than I had anticipated. There were two other names above mine, though, so I figured I’d probably meet them up there and at least not be completely alone. I started up the trail and soon passed one guy coming down. He didn’t seem in very good shape and I doubt he had actually summitted. I continued through the jungle as the trail got steeper and steeper. There were a few places where I needed my hands to scramble up some rocks, and one slabby part where metal wrungs had been hammered into the stone for assistance. The rocks were all wet from the rain early in the morning, and I hoped the rock up higher in the sun would be dried out by the time I got there. I heard some intermittent gun shots in the woods and was reminded that, even though I was in the jungle, I was still very close to Rio de Janeiro and the slums on the north side of the mountain. Soon I popped out above the trees onto a narrow ridge and saw impressive views of Rio to my left and Barra to my right. In front of me was the enormous vertical face on the west side of Pedra da Gavea. I continued up the ridge, skirting to the right of the huge face to some gentler south-facing slabs. This was the fourth-class crux of the route, but didn’t look that bad. It was even mostly dry. In hindsight at this point I should have hid my backpack in the woods (it still had my full winter overnight camping setup and extra clothes inside, which I certainly didn’t need here). However, I was too excited to get up the mountain and just started climbing. Halfway up the crux I reached a spot where I considered turning around, but after a short pause I figured out some foot placements that would work and kept climbing up. At the top of the steep part I noticed two bolts drilled into the rock, obviously meant to be a rappel anchor. I peered back down the route and secretly wished I had brought a rope now. Climbing down is always more difficult than climbing up, and I thought back to the part that gave me some difficulty on the way up. At this point, though, it didn’t make sense to retreat because I had already passed the hardest part. I continued up as the route turned back into a trail, weaving around to the east side of the mountain and finally popping out above the trees. I had reached a small summit plateau covered only in windswept grass. The trail forked here, with one path leading right towards a nice view of the ocean, and one leading left to a huge boulder that appeared to be on top of the true summit. I headed left, and soon encountered a 20-ft canyon in front of me. The only way down was over a smooth rock slab, but someone had pounded a steel cable into the rock and I downclimbed using the cable. I scrambled up some cracks on the opposite side of the canyon, and then reached the huge summit boulder. I’m not sure how that boulder got on the very top of the mountain, but I had to climb it to make the trip official. Again I should have dropped my big backpack here, but in my excitement I forgot about it on my back. I carefully circled the boulder looking for a weakness, then found a few crimpy holds, brought my boots up onto a slabby part, pushed up, and tagged the top. I quickly glanced around to see if anyone noticed me up there (nope), and then downclimbed back to safety. At this point I realized I truly was the only one on the mountain today. The view was spectacular: I could see many other monoliths sticking out of the ocean, all of Rio de Janeiro was spread out before me to the northeast, and I could even make out the statue on Corcovado mountain in the distance. Below me I saw a group of three hang-gliders circling the mountain, and wished I could catch a ride back with them instead of downclimbing my route. I wanted to stay there for hours, but I knew if it started raining I’d be in trouble downclimbing the steep parts. It had already rained this morning and it looked like more rainclouds building in the jungles to the west. I stayed long enough to get a few pictures (one of me back on the summit boulder sans pack), and then started hiking down. Back at the crux I turned around to face the cliff and carefully downclimbed, making sure all foot placements were solid before continuing. The rock was still dry and I made it down without incident. From there it was an easy stroll back through the jungle to the trailhead. I passed four people on their way up, but at the guardhouse when I signed out my name was still on the bottom of the list. I suspect the other people were just hiking to the ridge view before the crux and then turning back. I made it back to my hotel to pick up the laptop, and then successfully made my flight back to the US. I highly recommend climbing Pedra da Gavea if you find yourself in Rio. It doesn’t have the crowds of Corcovado, it’s free to climb, has spectacular views of Rio, involves some fun fourth-class rock climbing, jungle hiking, and even a little bouldering problem on the summit. |