Ben Heasons story of the first ascent of Angel Falls

The biggest overhanging free-climb in the world

On the 5th April 2005 a strong team of British, Russian and Venezuelan climbers made the first free ascent of the 1000m Angel Falls wall, in Venezuela. The climbers were me (Ben Heason - UK), Miles Gibson (UK), John Arran (UK), Anne Arran (UK), Alex Klenov (Rus), Ivan Calderon (Ven) and Alfredo Rangel (Ven).

Angel Falls, the world’s highest waterfall, has attracted adventurous climbers for decades. Several routes climb up from the mid-height left hand shoulder, but only one route previously tackled the main challenge of the central wall. A pair of strong Basque (Northern Spain) climbers made the first ascent but were forced to aid climb most of their pitches, including three pitches of A4. All repeat (both aid and free) attempts have ended in failure, highlighting the Spaniards impressive ascent from 1990. John and Anne Arran, together with Ivan, had already failed on the line twice before.

Third time lucky!

Not only was the wall difficult to climb but also problematic to reach. Needing a two hour flight in a tiny plane to reach a remote Indian village. We then spent a further 3 days in a large dugout canoe heading deep into the jungle, up the river Churrun. As well as plenty of exhausting boat pushing up fierce rapids my most exciting moment aarrived when I came within a metre of stepping on a crocodile ("Cayman", a very rare local type of crocodile). Taking a total of 19 days to complete the route we first fixed ropes to 400m, before leaving the ground and spending 14 consecutive nights on the wall, hauling all our equipment, food and water with us.

Miles and I climbed the first few pitches under the intermittant force of the waterfall, before access to the steeper orange section of the upper wall was reached. The loose rock and lack of protection made almost every pitch extremely demanding. But the team had an extremely strong ethical stance of ‘no bolts for protection’. A total of five bolts were placed on three belays, in order to make hauling and hanging portaledges safer, and only 2 pegs were placed on the whole route.

Of the 31 pitches over half were E6 and above, with no fewer than nine pitches of E7, five of which were climbed on sight.Finding myself lying beneath the X-Ray machine at Sheffield’s Northern General Hospital, only 48 hours before my flight left for Caracas, didn’t seem the perfect preperation for a big wall trip. But fortuantely the neck injury I’d picked up after a bad fall didn’t hold my climbing back. Before going I had little idea of what to expect, nor how my body and mind would react to it. I was nervous yet excited at the test ahead.

Quite unsure what lay ahead I set off from the belay into the unknown wilderness of pitch 10. Inching further and further from my belay I soon found myself embroiled in one of the most harrowing experiences of my life. After exploring several possibilities I remained utterly unsure. It wasn’t worth it. I deliberated, my mind going through that all too familiar turmoil of whether or not to committ?

Yes, it was worth it - I chose the line I thought looked most likely to offer the best chance of reaching the sanctuary of that distant corner crack. The slight, but increasing burning sensation in my forearms confirmed that I’d committed myself, totally. Reversing wasn’t an option any more, and a brief glance down at my ridiculously inadequate gear left me in no doubt that falling off was certainly not an option. At best it was an expedition ending fall. I convinced myself that I might survive. The next few metres past in a blur. No option but to crimp on the friable flakes, blindly groping, hoping I would find something big enough to hold. Only a few more moves and a ledge would be in within reach. But what if I reached a blank section, or a desperate English 6c move? No choice but to push on, just hope for the best. This is why I’d come here, to test myself in this kind of arena. I passed the test, but only just…

John, Miles and myself climbed all the hardest pitches. The others all lead some pitches, but everybody helped out with the hauling and general wall duties. Miles says "without such a big team the amazingly scary nature of the lead climbing could have been too intense at times".

A few of the pitches were so difficult that they required redpoint tactics, in order to arrange protection and clean the rock. The hardest pitches were around F7c+ with poor gear. Reaching the summit brought jubilation, but also a huge sense of relief. Until we finally crawled onto the summit in the back of our minds we always knew that there was a realistic chance of reaching a dead end. With only 4 litres of water left for our last day on the wall, any futher delays could have been somewhat disasterous!

After a night sleeping in a cave on top of the wall we were faced with a long and arduous descent (numerous abseils followed by rather a lot of jungle bashing!) back to base camp. But in order to make life easier on ourselves Miles came up with a cunning plan!

We tied all our ropes, slings and tat together and lowered the haul bags to the ground before dropping the ropes from the spot where base jumpers have launched in the past. Finding the haul bags and huge mass of ropes over 60m from the base of the wall proved just how overhanging the wall is!

Of the expedition’s success John had this to say; "To establish one of the hardest big-wall climbs in the world on the most beautiful rock face I've ever seen is truly a dream come true".

On returning to civilization we immediately rewarded our deprived bodies by gorging ourselves on delicious cakes and pies, washed down with copious amounts of beer. A few days spent sipping cocktails and topping up our tans, on the Carribean island of Margarita, topped off a great trip allowing the reality of our ‘Climb of a Lifetime’ to sink in.

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