Lilith - 250m 7c+ (7a obbl.) - Drusenfluh
The Rätikon is a long mountain range straddling the border between Switzerland and Austria. On its Swiss side, it rises in walls of remarkably compact limestone, streaked with shades of yellow and blue. It was on this rock, sculpted by the elements, that throughout the 1980s and into the 1990s, a handful of bold climbers, including Martin Scheel and Beat Kammerlander, began pushing the boundaries, placing bolts first by hand and later with power drills.
I had climbed here twice before: in 2012 on the classic Galadriel, and in 2018 on Schwarzer Zoo. Now it was time to get my hands on another Rätikon classic: Lilith.
With sustained, fairly physical pitches and more forgiving bolting than some of its intimidating neighbours, Lilith gives you a little more room to focus on the climbing and push your ambitions to climb every pitch free. That said, its western aspect is worth keeping in mind: the delicate opening pitch stays in the shade until around 12:30.
Once past that first pitch, the climbing just keeps getting better. Each length seems to outdo the last, following rough limestone sculpted by water into an extraordinary variety of holds. We find our rhythm and make steady progress, until pitch six.
Graded 7b, this one is mine to lead. The opening sequence seems to involve traversing right, staying below the first two bolts and moving quite a way across towards what look like decent footholds. Unfortunately, my onsight attempt comes to an end on an awkward gaston, pulling against a flat hold with precious little friction. The rest of the pitch is fantastic.
The following 7b+ gets my vote for the best pitch of the route. A long, rising traverse follows a mostly positive crack diagonally to the right. The holds are good, but the climbing steadily fills your forearms, making sure you are far from fresh when the crux finally arrives. Just when you would like the crack to keep going, it disappears. A couple of hard pulls on small edges are all that stand between you and the welcome relief of a generous pocket.
By the time we reach the penultimate belay, it is already 6:30 p.m. Our characteristically late start has caught up with us again, although this time we can at least share some of the blame with a couple of herds of cows that blocked the road on the way up.
We decide to leave the final pitch for another day and use the remaining daylight to abseil, getting back to the car without turning the descent into an adventure of its own.
