Melloblocco, third edition

The third edition of the Melloblocco took place, on 6 and 7 May, in Val di Mello (province of Sondrio). The International bouldering meeting has now become the international reference point within the panorama of climbing meetings. Planetmountain’s Vinicio Stefanello tells us how things went.
Oscar Durbiano

Melloblocco 2006, all Val di Mello’s stories
It is like following a butterfly. I look for the memories of this Melloblocco which has just ended, and all my feelings are mixed up with the ones from last year. As in a “déjà vu”, an experience already lived but never lived, there is something about the Melloblocco that escapes me. As if it were a beautiful butterfly which, slowly and elusively, moves away resting here and there. You follow it with your gaze. You pause on its colours. You accompany it in its flight. And as it appeared, suddenly it is no longer there, it has flown away. But you cannot forget it. Maybe because you know you will meet it again. In the same way that you will meet again all those thousands of people – who once again were welcomed by Val di Mello. Like those never ending granite boulders which burnt a thousand fingers, and which you caressed with your look. The younger children of the valley’s high and splendid rock faces which for two days lived off the energy and gave us a multitude of energy at the Melloblocco.
One cannot forget that multitude. It was there, but one could hardly see it. So much so, that no photo can capture it all. One would have to talk about these boulderers, one by one, these “melloboulderers”. The ones that arrived on the Saturday with those clouds that did not manage to erase a smile off anyone’s face. And those (the same ones plus other ones) who, on Sunday, basked in the sun. Every now and then they would disperse, in groups, or on their own letting themselves be carried away by the wake and by the sound of the torrent. They wandered around looking for their rock problem. As in a free exploration. A journey within the journey, amongst old and new boulders. Amongst old and new climbing partners. Because at each encounter, the valley gives a little bit of itself to the Melloblocco. A part of its meadows, of its water and of its emotions. As well as many new encounters and sensations. Impossible to capture, impossible to forget.
“What a large lens, Giulio!” a little girl shouted out between climbing one boulder, the disappointment of her new climbing shoes which were too painful for her, and asking her dad for a snack. “To photograph you better”, replied Giulio, almost absent-mindedly. She smiled. She understood: it was like a fairy tale. Here there is no wolf, and no little red riding hood, but it is just like fairy-tales which in the end make everyone so happy. But how do you describe happiness? How do you focus on it among the eyes of those famous faces, very famous faces, or absolutely anonymous? Of course it is difficult to describe a smile, an encounter, a problem sent and one which you cannot climb. You cannot describe the colours of the water and of the meadows or how the granite of Val di Mello consumes your skin, or from how many different places and lives the people that are with you here in the valley, come from. One cannot say what Melloblocco is. Probably it is something different for each one of us. But in the end, it is the whole, in the fragments of memory that it is understood.
Melloblocco is Jacopo, inspired more than ever, who looks with bright eyes at the green meadow dotted with rocks here and there and with climbers of every age. The same Jacopo who has spent a lifetime amongst these rock faces following and fulfilling dreams. And, Melloblocco, is also Cristian who is in love, radiant as never before. And the impeccable Alberto, who as always, dressed like a lord to immerse himself into the climbing, whatever kind it may be. And Nicolino who while he climbs, and while he speaks transmits the simple happiness of being there, in that moment, doing what everyone else is doing. And Mauro relaxed, smiles at you through his eyes, and in the meantime sends all the problems. Melloblocco is the guy who goes from boulder to boulder with a wooden tube and when I ask him what it is, he blows into it making a sound that enters through your stomach. It seems strange, but it is perfect as “Mello’s” soundtrack, especially when he explains to you that the instrument comes from the Australian Aboriginies. Yes, “Mello” is really weird and unique. Just like Raffaella is “weird” and “unique”; if you ask her how she is doing she will answer by saying that things are good and that this year she feels like climbing. She has just sent a problem that only a wild Barbara has sent, but it was easy for her: it was exactly her kind of problem. And there are many more stories of this kind, maybe a thousand. Because Melloblocco is also the boulder problem that you just cannot send while someone else, someone you don’t know, someone who certainly does not look like someone famous (but who most certainly is!) climbs it in front of you without any effort. Melloblocco is Luca who does not sit still for a moment. Melloblocco is lying in a field eyeing up the people climbing. Melloblocco is the sea of crash pads which put one beside another become 70’s style sofas, front row seats to admire a thousand boulders and to start a thousand conversations in the sitting room of Val di Mello.
We saw everything at the Melloblocco. Like Antoine, the boulderer with his umbrella, who did not get one boulder wrong, going back to climb the one with a broken edge. Or else Daniel who after a long struggle managed to send the boulder which he had managed to almost solve during his first attempt, and then seemed to not like it anymore. The gang of guys, that is Gabriele, Michele, Lucas, Alessandro... who never stop having fun. And then there is the gang of English men, Garry, Andrew, Mark... who seemed inexhaustible. And all the boulderers who arrived, a thousand and sometimes more, at the final lunge but never held it. Anita who pierced her finger (like a thousand others) but continued nonetheless. Giò who ran away (reluctantly) from the valley to go to a christening. And we could add so many more. Including those who on Sunday went to explore the vertiginous slabs of "Kundalini" and of "Giardino". Including Iris, the wise one, trait d'union between the valley and the rest of the world.
We could continue. The story we would have to tell would be a never ending one. Including the one of the Polish boy who arrived by hitch hiking from the Calanque, and after Val di Mello headed for home with his back-pack…55 kilos. Endless stories just like the holds, infinite like the crystals of granite. Memorable stories like the one of the event’s hardest problem, which according to many, was dealt with and resolved (in beautiful style) by those two crazy English girls, who had a swim in the torrent on Saturday evening. As always, Saturday night the boulder session must have been un-missable, with head lamps, organized by a group of diehards…Small stories and big stories. Stories without an end. As (we hope) Melloblocco is.
Vinicio Stefanello