Description
There was a line I had been staring at for nearly 15 years, on the south East face of the legendary Arbizon above my village in the Pyrenees. Few guys had climbed it, but no one with skis, so really, never knowing if it could be ridden.
That face looks like a wall almost like a sheer cliff, with a few snowy broken lines of snow on it. So the whole beginning of season I have been looking closer into it, scouting from different angles,
flying drones left right and center, I finally believed it was possible but still needed to climb it to be 100 percent sure.
4 am start with my friend Arthur Pillon, unblocking crux after crux, we finally made it through to the summit at 11 AM.
Riding it for the first time was immense — not only because of its scale, but because it was
a dream that had been right in front of me for so long, on that mountain that is probably the dearest in my heart.