Pitons…hmmm. Those spiky metal things that some climbers bash into rock to use for protection. We climbed the Pitons. The Gros Piton and the Petit Piton. O.K., O.K., you’re thinking that, yes, pitons come in different sizes. But it’s like a Lost Arrow #3, or a Black Diamond #5. But what’s this gros and petit stuff!? And besides, you climb WITH pitons. You don’t CLIMB pitons. Well, we’re telling you that we actually CLIMBED THE PITONS!

Well, to solve the great (Gros and Petit) Piton mystery…in December of last year we found ourselves on the island of St. Lucia (pronounced, Saint Loosha), an independent tropical island nation located southeast of Puerto Rico. The east side of the island is a bit drier and more scrub/desert-like. The low temperature while we were there (during their Summer) was 75 F – 78 F.

The Pitons are the trademark of St. Lucia on the southwest coast of the island. They’re two very symmetric volcanic cones (plugs) rising almost directly out of the ocean, about a mile apart, and similar in elevation: Gros Piton (2,618’) a bit higher than Petit Piton (2,438’). While shorter than the Gros Piton, the Petit Piton is steeper and more technical. Both are covered with lush vegetation from top to bottom. The St. Lucia tourist board mentions that, “…only the most daring climbers have ventured an ascent to their summits…” Wait minute! You can hardly set foot in the Cascades without doing at least that much elevation gain! Hmmm…

Access to the Pitons is “controlled” by the Forestry Department. While technically you are not required to have a guide to go up either Piton, you are required to pay a fee. The “Ranger” station is at the trailhead for the Gros Piton, and there are usually guides hanging out at the trailhead for the Petit Piton. It’s hard to avoid paying the fees so do not even try.

The Gros Piton was our first goal. We were staying at the north end of the island, at Rodney Bay. The “approach” started with a two hour drive down the west coast of the island, passing through the town of Castries (the Capital) and several other small towns on the way. The two-lane, paved road contours the hills and valleys along the coastline with great views of resorts and beaches on the water.

Ultimately you come to a small village where the Ranger Station/Tourist Center is located. This is where you engage your guides, pick up maps, make purchases from a small selection of souvenirs, and use the facilities. The village itself is where some of the guides and their families live. In the immediate vicinity of the station there were chickens running about, a few dogs, and a pen of pigs. Not the typical Ranger Station that we see here in the Northwest.

Once you secure your guides then you head out on the trail. There’s a decent and fairly obvious trail all the way to the top of the Gros Piton. It starts out fairly gentle, winding around towards the east (water side) of the peak. But it doesn’t take long before it starts going up, and in a number of spots, significantly up. We were carrying fanny packs, for the most part, so it’s not like we were humping 30 – 40 lb. packs. But it did get you huffing and puffing. There were some portions of the trail that were more akin to scrambling than hiking. You needed to take some care with your footing. And you wound up using your hands for balance at times. On the way up our guides would stop periodically at selected places and we’d admire the view, and/or catch our breath. There was a fairly good, not terribly dense, forest canopy above us all the way up.

The elevation gain on the Gros Piton is about 1800’ – 1900’(?). So with our group of seven, plus two guides, we made it to the summit in about 2 1⁄2 hours. The summit is fairly good sized, and well covered with a tall canopy of trees, with considerable undergrowth. We moved east across the summit and down the trail a short distance to a small open area in the trail. This afforded us quite a sweeping view of the east side of the island. We could see the town of Vieux Fort in the south and on up the east coast maybe half way up the island. And since we were looking east we were looking out upon the Atlantic Ocean, not the Caribbean Sea.

From the small clearing on the summit we moved back down the trail and took a spur trail to another clearing. This viewpoint was not quite as large or open as the other. But it gave us quite a good view of the Petit Piton, just a bit east of north and about a mile distant. And since we could see north and east, we were looking out upon the Caribbean Sea, instead of the Atlantic Ocean. After a break for lunch we headed back down, bid farewell to our guides, and headed back to Rodney Bay for dinner, rum punch, and Piton beer (yes, Piton beer is indigenous to St. Lucia). Just the way life was meant to be, eh?

So much for the Gros Piton. But the really intriguing peak of the two is the smaller Petit Piton. Much of the tourist literature declares that the Petit Piton is somewhat treacherous, technical, and not to be taken lightly. Wait a minute! We’re climbers! Given that kind of a buildup there was no way that we were NOT going to summit that peak…period! So a few days later four of us headed back to the Ranger Station / Tourist Center. Don had already negotiated the fee for a guide at the end of our Gros Piton climb. So all we had to do was show up.

Back we went along the same road, except this time, Timmy was driving. And since St. Lucia was last administered by the British, you might surmise (and you’d be correct) that they drive on the left-hand side of the road. Timmy only reverted to the right-hand side once during the drive. But everyone else in the car let him know very quickly what was wrong.

The trailheads for the Gros and Petit Pitons are different. So once we met our guide we had to backtrack to the other trailhead. There’s a parking lot at the Petit Piton trailhead, and a number of guides lazed about, waiting, seemingly none too eagerly, for some business.

We crossed the road and headed down a short way, on a trail, into a not very dense, but high, forest canopy, with relatively light undergrowth. Shortly the trail started heading up. And then up even more. The trail here was not as obvious, in many places, as that on the Gros Piton. And it was very much up. There was more scrambling and balancing needed. But still, at this point, it wasn’t really technical or exposed. You certainly didn’t need a rope or any gear. But in places you needed to watch your balance. It was a fair amount of work.

Again, we took occasional breaks along the way. And after a while our guide began (and kept) telling us that we were getting close to a viewpoint where we could stop and relax before making the summit push. It seemed like it was always around the next bend in the trail. But eventually we got there. It was at about 2000’ elevation. That would mean that we’d gained about 1500’ – 1600’ of elevation at this point.

We had about another 400’ to go to gain the summit. And our guide told us that between us and the summit were several “technical” moves. So at this point the other two members of our party decided to stop and wait while we pushed on for the summit, with the guide.

They weren’t climbers. They’d had enough for one day.
Much of the rest of the climb was more a scramble than a climb. But there were some interesting sections. We continued on up and came to a short traverse. There was abundant vegetation all around us. And the path was fairly clear. But it was quite exposed. One fall here and you’d go a long way. So they had a hand-line setup. If I remember correctly, it was a climbing rope stretched between some small trees. Something akin to a handrail. And while our guide told us to be careful making this traverse he also told us not to use the handline. Not use the handline!? The why the heck was it there??

Then we came upon a large rock with a cleft in the middle. The cleft was wide enough that you could get your body into it, and it was somewhat steep. But there wasn’t much in the way of handholds. But that was O.K.

There was a 1 1⁄2” – 2” hemp rope, strung from an anchor up above, and knotted in several places for handholds. It appeared to be a fairly well aged hemp rope. And, again, happily, this move was uneventful. Another nearly vertical rock with a cleft was next, this time without a rope. But there was a rather stout, small tree coming out of the bottom of the cleft. You could make your move onto the tree and stem against it while securing some sketchy handholds on the rock.

In between were a few 4th class moves. But we eventually gained the summit, somewhat smaller than the one on the Gros Piton. The tree cover was not as tall, with more scrub and low lying brush. It was a warm sunny day, with a low on and off breeze. Very comfortable. The view was also much better: nearly 270 degrees views. From Vieux Fort in the south, around to the north to the east side of the island and the Atlantic Ocean, continuing around with views of other peaks on the island (Mt. Gimie, 3,118’), and around to the west to the Caribbean Sea. And while we were up there two more fellows showed up. So with our guide and these two fellows we had a total of 5 people on a good sized summit. Not exactly crowded.

The trip down was uneventful. We reversed the “technical” moves, did the traverse again (don’t touch that handline!), picked up our other two members at the viewpoint, and returned to the trailhead, heading back eventually to Rodney Bay and more rum punch and Piton beer. I’m reminded of a story told about a fellow who said he liked climbing because of the beer consumed after the climb was over. After a fairly long climbing career he came to the conclusion that the beer was the real attraction. So he gave up climbing. It merely got in the way of consuming the beer. I believe that there’s a lesson to be learned here. Hmmm…rum punch and Piton beer. I could get used to this.