When you are standing in front of the imposing massif of the Wendenstöcke, (above the Gadmertal valley in Switzerland) Zahir is the most obvious line. Zahir is also the hardest route, as it climbs an outstanding part of the wall, navigating between blue and orange streaks. Its 300m are divided in 8 pitches (6c, 8a, 8b+, 7c, 7a+, 7b, 7b+, 6c). There’s something you need to know about the Wendenstöcke. Picture a long and exposed approach, followed by run-out slab and vertical climbing, with tiny razorblades that cut your fingers and shred your climbing shoes, the whole in a mountain ambient. This place is no joke - everything is demanding there. I thought I had a faint idea of what it would entail when I decided to team up with Kathy to try Zahir, but in fact, I had no idea how big of a challenge I was getting myself into. Maybe that’s why I had the boldness to tell Kathy I would love to try Zahir with her under one condition: we go there Ecopoint Style.
Ecopoint Climbing
Ecopoint Climbing is a movement that was born from the belief that we can do what we love without destroying what we love. We want to find ways to climb with as little impact on the environment as possible. As climbers, the biggest share of our carbon footprint comes from transportation. With Ecopoint Climbing we commit to getting to the crag in a sustainable way: by foot, bike, public transport or sometimes hitchhiking. Redpoint becomes Ecopoint, meaning we only consider we sent a climb when we approached it by fair means each time we tried it. Trying Zahir Ecopoint style had an impact on many aspects of our trip: accommodation, food, gear, fitness, rest, flexibility, independence… A cozy and warm van became a little tent, a great meal became a meal that consisted of only foods that we can carry, every quickdraw we decided to bring suddenly had its weight, rest days became very rare as we often used them to go food shopping by bike. We found so much beauty in changing all these aspects of the trip.
The team spirit
Kathy and I spent 19 days camping at the foot of Zahir. I was committed to giving the team everything I had from day one. I would never hesitate to walk (or climb) the extra mile to make us progress. We quickly learned that going the extra mile was worth it as we discovered the pitches and climb with no draws on the bolts and no chalk on the holds…which makes the climbing way harder and scarier when you don’t know where to go nor which holds to grab. I sometimes had to try a section 10 times before I could clip the bolt and actually figure out where the holds were. Kathy had a different attitude, it seemed like she was climbing smarter and saving skin and energy. I was full on because I expected that place to be tough and I was ready to use all my fighting spirit for our team. It gave me wings, and Kathy was always very encouraging and supportive, which made me want to try even harder. It also made me very tired and destroyed my skin pretty quickly. After the first day on the wall, I wrote in my diary:
«_ Today was tough, I had to free solo 15m 6c slab to the first bolt then put draws in the runout 8a+ and then also ended up putting draws in half of the 8b+. I did things , while climbing, where I literally said to myself, ‘I have no idea how I’m doing this’ but somehow I could do it. I’ve had this feeling before but this time it was very strong and it happened at least 3 times during the day. I love this feeling, it’s one of my favorite ones in climbing. The vibes in the team are good ✨ although now I feel empty and a bit concerned about tomorrow. The risk taking is high - very high. Today we risked our ankles more than once and I definitely risked my life once in the first pitch but we also did in the approach which has a lot of absolutely no fall allowed moments. Where is my limit in terms of risk taking? Kathy is not voluntarily taking more risks for the team. I think that’s healthy and inspiring. Maybe I find it when I listen to my fear and dance with it. I think my risk taking today was quite thoughtful. But still high. I wish it was a bit lower. For my ankle. _»
Later in the trip, my energy started to decrease but again, I was able to continue to progress and to keep pushing my limits because of Kathy’s optimism. It was also impressive to see how her energy was increasing. On day 15 of our trip, (after 8 days on the wall working on the route) Kathy sent! It was a huge fight and it was amazing to witness it and to climb all the way to the top with her. I felt I was with her 100%. We started at 4:00 am and finished at 10:00pm. After she sent, I felt completely empty. All my energy and motivation were suddenly gone. The dynamics of our team changed as we were not sharing the same goal anymore. I felt alone. But actually I wasn’t. Kathy was still there and I was truly proud and happy for her, independently of how I felt about myself. I was truly happy for my friend when she had sent and I hadn’t was my priority because that’s when it counts. Can you put your ego aside and be truly happy for your friend who gave everything? My answer was yes. I was proud of both of us, even if a part of me wished I had also sent. I decided to finally take several rest days in a row and try again. But my level of fatigue was too deep and the skin on my fingertip too thin. I should have taken longer rest days earlier on. I still put up a big fight but it wasn’t enough to send. I found myself hanging in the rope thinking ‘I wanna go home, I wanna go cycling, I wanna do something else’. And so I did.
Ambition looks great on us too
What happens after spending so many days obsessed with the same route? I felt empty and exhausted, disappointed and hurt too. I wished I could have sent it with Kathy—but honestly, I wasn’t even close. I needed one of those rare, magical days that climbers experience only a few times in their lives, and this time, it didn’t come. Still, I was satisfied. Kathy’s Ecopoint ascent of Zahir made headlines in every climbing magazine. Together, we proved that performance and sustainability can go hand in hand, and I was incredibly proud of that. I knew it wouldn’t have been possible without our combined efforts. And even though Kathy was the one receiving the recognition, it was enough for me to feel fulfilled.
Yet, I decided to make Zahir my main climbing goal for 2025. Go home, rest, train, and come back stronger. The dominant narrative—the path expected of an athlete. Now, as I write these lines, exactly six months later, I realize I’ve thought about Zahir in every single training session since then. But I don’t feel particularly stronger, nor ready, nor confident. I fear failure. I wonder if setting this goal was a mistake. What if I was too ambitious—just as I’ve been so many times in my life? But I also know that goals exist to put us in movement, not to define us. Zahir is moving me in a powerful way, and the person I’ll become by the end of next summer does not depend on whether I send Zahir or not. As women, we’re taught to be modest, discreet, and gentle. My fears are also consequence of 2,000 years of patriarchy. But ambition and courage look great on us too. I set this goal for myself and for all the strong, brave, and ambitious women who inspire me every day.
