Winter attempt at Mount San Valentín in Patagonia

The following chronicle recounts a winter attempt aiming to become the third historically documented summit of Mount San Valentín under winter conditions. 

This iconic mountain rises above the Northern Patagonian Icefield, at the northern edge of Laguna San Rafael National Park, Patagonia, Chile. Its coordinates are 46°35’42”S, 73°20’45”W, and it is surrounded to the north by the Circo Glacier, to the east by the San Valentín Glacier and Cerro Cuerno de Plata, to the west by the San Rafael Glacier and Cerro Pirámide, and to the south by Cerro Fiero and the vast extension of the Northern Patagonian Icefield.

Standing at 4072 meters above sea level, this mountain is the highest point in Patagonia, serving as the watchtower of the southern continental territory. It is renowned for conditions comparable to those of the great Himalayas, with few summer ascents and just two documented winter ascents. The first documented winter ascent was carried out in 1989 by an expedition led by Italy's Casimiro Ferrari, which also included Giulano Maresi, Egidio Spreafico, and Carlo Buzzi. The second winter summit was in 2001 by the Chilean team Cumbres Australes, which included Camilo Rada, Nicolás Martínez, Eugenio Guzmán, Juan Pablo Meza, and Gerardo Saffer.

Our winter attempt
The Patagonian winter welcomed us kindly, rather than with its usual harshness, as we embarked on the challenge of attempting the third winter summit of Mount San Valentín. This great mountain emerges as a remote white giant in the far north of the Northern Ice Field, the vast expanse of glaciers stretching like a frozen ocean on the edge of the Pacific Ocean in Chilean Patagonia.

Our team consisted of Álvaro Quilodrán, Eduardo Retamales, and Felipe Malverde. Three friends and mountain guides, eager this time to pursue a sporting project after years dedicated to working in the mountains. The expedition was not just about reaching a summit: it was a dream of entering this vast Patagonian territory and an opportunity to test how far we could go in the face of a legendary mountain at the southern extreme in winter conditions.

The magnetism of a legendary mountain
Mount San Valentín is not only the highest peak in the southern part of the continent: it is a mountain steeped in history and mystery. Its first ascent was in 1952, carried out by members of the Club Andino de Bariloche. Decades later, in 1989, the Italian Casimiro Ferrari led the second ascent and first winter ascent. Then, in 1992, the first Chilean summit expedition took place, and in 2001, the Chilean Camilo Rada and his team achieved the second winter ascent. Since then, only a handful of people have reached its summit, all during the summer season. Other expeditions have attempted to climb the mountain in winter, but to date, no fully documented third winter ascent has succeeded in reaching the summit. The mountain has remained in the silence of winter, resisting all attempts. We knew that success would depend not only on our preparation but also on the ever-changing Patagonian weather.

Preparation
The project began to take shape in December 2024. It involved months of intense physical training: strength, endurance, mountain days, and extensive mental preparation. We knew that we would have to travel autonomously with over 250 kilograms of equipment, without porters or external support, in extreme terrain and complete isolation.

At the same time, we studied every detail: the history of the mountain, the accounts of those who had been there, possible routes, maps, and weather records. We even interviewed key mountaineers to gather firsthand information.

The support of Mammut, Fritschi, Stöckli, Colltex, Salewa, Dynafit, Skipulk, Atakama Outdoor, Volkanica Outdoors and KDT was decisive, as they not only provided technical equipment, specialized physical training and help partially finance this project but also trusted us to embark on this adventure. It is worth highlighting this, to underline the importance of the people behind each brand for their support from the very first minute.

Heading onto the ice
On July 18 at 2:00 a.m., we departed from Pucón, in the IX Region of Araucanía. We drove over 1.500 kilometers toward Patagonia, which included three ferry crossings to navigate the Reloncaví and Largo Fjords, plus two days on the road. We arrived at Mallín Grande, in the Aysén Region, on the afternoon of July 20. This was where the real challenge began: the approach.

First came two days of carrying loads through the Leones Valley to Lake Leones. Then, crossing the lake by boat, we reached Camp Heimp, which would serve as the first major base camp for hauling supplies toward the heart of the Northern Ice Field.

Each day we gained meters and carried loads toward the mountain, requiring a great collective effort. The route conditions made progress very difficult, as the terrain initially winds through dense forest that greatly complicates movement. Once emerging onto the moraine ridge between the Leones and Mocho glaciers, the early winter conditions (little snow) made skiing progress challenging, hopping from hole to hole across the rocky debris we crossed daily. Every day was extremely demanding. The hauls were aimed at establishing caches toward the Italian Camp, the last safe post before venturing into the vast icefield plateau. The landscape was brutal: enormous glaciers, torn apart by an unstable winter that had not yet consolidated the snow cover. After every storm, it was evident how avalanches swept across the terrain we had to traverse.

Between incoming storms, we waited for favorable conditions to continue the hauls, passing the time at our first base camp, which presented another difficulty: the presence of other inhabitants in the Heimp Camp forest complicated everything further. By the third day, we realized that mice were eating our food. They even damaged backpacks, tents, and technical gear.

Everything was done amid a fragile balance between storms and brief windows of good weather. Communication with John, our high-altitude meteorologist, became vital: through his satellite reports, he guided us between shifting weather fronts, helping us decide when to move loads and when to wait.

After 12 days of expeditions, the overall strategy in front was to advance between small weather fronts predicted by the meteorological report, each offering windows of two to three days, giving us a limited opportunity to attempt the summit of San Valentín. Finally, when we were ready for the last haul to the upper camp, the news we didn’t want to hear arrived. The intermittent small fronts had merged into a massive storm system, forecasted to last more than two uninterrupted weeks.

The dilemma was immediate: push forward and risk being trapped under the snow with no certainty of escape, or retreat and accept defeat. The mountain was showing us its harshest face, and we had to acknowledge it.
Considering that the expedition was limited to a maximum of 30 days; that we needed at least 7 consecutive good days to attempt the summit and return; that we had to cross Lago Leones again for our exit and that we could not abandon the mountain in a full-blown storm because navigation would become impossible—the decision left no margin: it was clear what we had to do. We made the decision with heavy hearts—it was time to withdraw. The risk of staying was simply too high. The mountain would remain silent once again.

The Return: Another challenge
Retracing our steps proved to be just as hard as moving forward. We had to repeat the hauls, dragging loads downhill, with the only difference that every meter we gained was erasing the tracks we had made—and with them, our dream of reaching the mountain.

It took us three days to descend, and as if that weren’t enough, the journey home included an unexpected episode: a tsunami alert on the Chilean coast, triggered by an earthquake in Russia, left us stranded in the city of Chaitén before we could take the ferry through Largo Fjord.

Finally, after days of effort, we returned safely. No summit, but with the certainty that we had made the right decision.

Beyond the Summit
The mountain denied us the summit, but it gave us something no victory ever could: experience, learning, and perspective. In numbers, our expedition left a few marks:

• 8 months of preparation.
• Hours and hours of bibliographic research.
• Over 6 hours of footage and 500 photographs.
• 6 interviews.
• 36 training sessions beforehand.
• More than 2,800 km of overland travel.
• 3 ferries and 1 boat to cross fjords and lakes.
• 250 kilograms of gear carried autonomously.
• More than 110 km traveled hauling equipment
• 40 rivers crossed.
• 7 national parks traversed.
• A 2-week expedition adventure.

Mount San Valentín remains there - unshaken in winter, elusive in summer - guardian of the Northern Patagonian Ice Field. We did not reach its summit, but we returned full of hope and gratitude for everything we learned through this experience.

Mountains are neither won nor lost; they are journeyed. This time, San Valentín kept its summit out of reach, and we understand now that the real experience lay in the journey this time, not the peak. We are deeply thankful for everything we learned, for the moments we lived, and for all the people who helped and believed in us - especially our families, friends, and everyone behind the brands who supported and believed in this dream.

The mountain will still be there. And so will we… We will return.

- Eduardo Retamales, Chile