On this wall, some important pages of Piedmontese alpinism were written. Guido Rossa, the first to attempt this line, got shut down after the roofs and retreated by rappels. Only Motti and Grassi, a few years later, managed to complete the ascent of this dihedral which, because of its sinister reputation as an unclimbable line, came to be called the “Diedro del Terrore” (the Terror Dihedral). After reading I falliti, I had become fascinated by this mythical route, and when Saverio suggested climbing it, I certainly didn’t hesitate! After a few easy pitches, past the start of the two Gervasutti lines, the problems begin. Rotten dihedrals, sparse protection—and what is there is of dubious quality, with rusty pitons flexing alarmingly, house-sized blocks that are held in place by a miracle, and countless flakes that come off just by brushing them with your sleeves… A piton that ripped out together with a large flake in a previous ascent forces Saverio into a difficult free move, but everything goes well and the pitch of the double roof (originally graded A3) is overcome. I set off to climb a smaller roof (supposedly 6a). I should find a belay on a ledge, but it’s not there. I let myself be misled by a topo I found online, which places the belay higher up than the ledge… even more worrying: 20 metres above I find a proper belay, with no rap rings or carabiners. Are we on the right route? The hand-width ledge marked in the topo is nowhere to be seen from here… Saverio joins me and continues up to the big roof, in terrifyingly loose rock; a piton comes out in his hand, but he carries on as if nothing had happened. An unsettling traverse, on hollow-sounding flakes and a perched block that must weigh a ton directly above the belay, leads to a second stance with dubious pitons. From there we can see, far below, the famous hand-width ledge… We are clearly off route, but retreating from here is nearly impossible. Saverio manages to arrange the belay, and the “if you fall we both die” situation turns into a milder “better not fall, but the anchor should hold.” I join him and set off on what we will call “a delirious and psychedelic pitch.” At Saverio’s encouragement—“one move, grab the edge and you’re out”—I launch into A1 on micro nuts (one of them with a rap carabiner, pure desperation…) followed by a runout of VII on rotten, outward-sloping holds covered in dirt. It’s an unequal fight, but I manage to get through, though it’s not over yet… a delicate traverse on stacks of dubious plates still awaits me. I move on in apnea and reach a belay with two bolts. I finally catch my breath. Even Saverio will not particularly appreciate this pitch. The descent is fortunately not technically difficult, but it is very long and ends in darkness. A quick stop in Bardonecchia helps us unwind the tension.