Altavia Crew
OVS presents Altavia Crew, the editorial project in partnership with Athleta Lab. Discipline, talent and dedication told by those who challenge their limits every day, through sport and adventure.
Interview with Renata Rossi
The first female mountain guide in Italy, since 1984 she has made the mountains her way of life. Together with her husband Franco Giacomelli, she discovered and equipped some of the most beautiful canyons in Valchiavenna. Today she lives and works in Bregaglia, pursuing mountaineering, canyoning and rope access work.
Let’s start from the very beginning: what are your earliest memories of your connection with the mountains? What made you form such a strong bond with this natural environment?
“The mountains are the dimension I have always lived in. I was born among the mountains, surrounded by greenery and nature. I believe that this, even if at first in a distant and unconscious way, was the driving force that eventually led me to choose a profession that still allows me to work in the mountains and share my passion and connection with nature with others. I feel like a tree with roots in one precise place. My roots are in Valchiavenna, and I draw energy from this land. This awareness has allowed me to move forward even when I have taken different paths. The tree grows, its leaves can move, fly elsewhere and then return, but its roots always remain in the same place. At the heart of everything, for me, are the environment and the mountains. Growing up in these places was not like living in a city, seeing the mountains from afar and suddenly deciding to make them your life. I was born into this dimension. At the same time, there was no mountaineering tradition in my family. There were no guides, mountaineers or people professionally connected to the mountains. My parents had other jobs. There was no direct family heritage in this sense. It all grew from here, organically: from these mountains that surround me, from the greenery, the woods, from this valley on the border with Switzerland. As I said, at the beginning of my life I also tried to follow different paths, but those very paths helped me understand that the mountains were truly my path.”
What other paths did you follow before returning to your valleys?
“I attended a classical high school and, after graduating, I decided to enroll in Medicine, with the ultimate goal of specializing in psychiatry. During high school, I had developed certain interests and I was very drawn to that field of study. I enrolled at the University of Padua and studied Medicine for a year. Then I changed faculties and enrolled in Psychology, also in Padua. I studied for two and a half years. I was studying, I found the subjects interesting, but I continued to feel that it wasn’t my path. I was far from home. To return to the valley, I had to take the train, which took almost an entire day. I rarely went back. Despite this, Padua was still an important experience: I met many people, discovered a different setting, the city, in a beautiful and liveable place... but I still decided to return to the valley, leaving my academic career behind. I had no job or guarantees, but I felt the need to do so.”
You have described the mountains as your life choice. What led you to make this decision?
“It was a calling. A true choice. Then I met Franco. He was already working in the valley and together we began our adventure in the profession of mountain guides. From the very beginning, Franco was my companion in the mountains: during explorations, adventures... Later, he became my husband and today we also share our work. The mountain guide course was an experience that unfolded alongside our relationship: deeply personal to me, but lived with the good fortune of meeting someone with whom I could embark on the same journey. Together we built this adventure, this alpine life.”
You have described the mountains as your life choice. What led you to make this decision?
“It was a calling. A true choice. Then I met Franco. He was already working in the valley and together we began our adventure in the profession of mountain guides. From the very beginning, Franco was my companion in the mountains: during explorations, adventures... Later, he became my husband and today we also share our work. The mountain guide course was an experience that unfolded alongside our relationship: deeply personal to me, but lived with the good fortune of meeting someone with whom I could embark on the same journey. Together we built this adventure, this alpine life.”
How did your relationship with your husband become part of the long mountain story of your life?
“Franco also comes from the mountains, so there was already a natural affinity between us. As I mentioned, he was the one who introduced me to climbing and mountaineering. Everything happened very spontaneously, nothing was forced. At first, it was mainly about exploration. Franco had already completed several courses and was already a mountain guide; I began this journey after gaining more direct experience in the mountains, also through managing, together with a friend, a mountain hut at the foot of Pizzo Badile, a mountain that I consider deeply part of who I am. Franco and I have now been together for many, many years, and our relationship was born and grew within these mountains; it was shaped by them and alongside them.”
In 1984, you became the first female mountain guide in Italy. What journey led you to achieve this milestone?
“To become a mountain guide, you had to—and still have to—arrive with a certain level of preparation. You need to be a complete mountaineer, able to move on ice, snow and rock, and across different mountains throughout the entire Alpine range. When I signed up for the selection process, I had already gained solid experience, both with Franco and with other mountaineers. In 1979, I took part in the selection process together with another girl from Sondrio, Serena. We both passed that first hurdle and, in 1981, we completed the aspiring mountain guides’ course together: the first real step in the journey. Then Serena had some problems, accidents unrelated to the mountains, and had to stop for a while. I, on the other hand, continued and in 1984 I completed the course. In those years, the course was national. Today, mountain guide courses have an international framework, but are organized at regional level; back then, however, we came together with mountaineers from all over Italy. There were people from Veneto, Lombardy, Valle d’Aosta, South Tyrol, coming from different schools and traditions. I had some incredibly strong mountaineers by my side. Being part of that kind of environment was very important. It wasn’t simply about going climbing. When I completed the journey, I felt part of that group. Of course, there were also difficult moments. I encountered misunderstandings from some instructors and resistance from some of the boys. But I kept going. And those moments were overcome.”
In 1984, you became the first female mountain guide in Italy. What journey led you to achieve this milestone?
“To become a mountain guide, you had to—and still have to—arrive with a certain level of preparation. You need to be a complete mountaineer, able to move on ice, snow and rock, and across different mountains throughout the entire Alpine range. When I signed up for the selection process, I had already gained solid experience, both with Franco and with other mountaineers. In 1979, I took part in the selection process together with another girl from Sondrio, Serena. We both passed that first hurdle and, in 1981, we completed the aspiring mountain guides’ course together: the first real step in the journey. Then Serena had some problems, accidents unrelated to the mountains, and had to stop for a while. I, on the other hand, continued and in 1984 I completed the course. In those years, the course was national. Today, mountain guide courses have an international framework, but are organized at regional level; back then, however, we came together with mountaineers from all over Italy. There were people from Veneto, Lombardy, Valle d’Aosta, South Tyrol, coming from different schools and traditions. I had some incredibly strong mountaineers by my side. Being part of that kind of environment was very important. It wasn’t simply about going climbing. When I completed the journey, I felt part of that group. Of course, there were also difficult moments. I encountered misunderstandings from some instructors and resistance from some of the boys. But I kept going. And those moments were overcome.”
How did it make you feel to have such a profound impact on the history and mountaineering scene in Italy?
“It was only after completing the course that I realized I was the first female mountain guide in Italy, but I never experienced it as a label in its own right, something separate. I never liked the distinctions built around being a woman. I felt like everyone else: if I was with them and doing the same things, I didn’t see what the problem could be. In the mountains, it’s very simple: either you’re up to it or you’re not. If you’re not prepared, you can’t pretend. Still, that moment of realization was wonderful. A great celebration. Franco, who was already my husband at the time, shared that joy with me. I remember a particularly lovely episode. A veteran journalist from Corriere della Sera, Fulvio Campiotti, came along on a climb with me and wrote an article, which he sent to the President of the Republic, who at the time was Francesco Cossiga. Cossiga sent me a letter of congratulations. I still have it. They are small anecdotes that capture the feeling of those wonderful moments. The reality, however, is that once the course was over, I had to build a career for myself. It wasn’t enough to say: “I’ve finished, now I can begin.” I had to figure out where to start.”
Where and how did you decide to start?
“Franco and I began organizing programs, activities and proposals in Valchiavenna. We also developed a specialization in rope access work and, later on, in canyoning. It was an incredibly important team effort. At the time, there was practically nothing in the valley. There was no association of mountain guides, nor was there an established tradition like in Engadin or other areas of Switzerland. There had been mountain guides at the beginning of the 20th century, but that tradition had come to an end. We started from scratch, in a beautiful valley with enormous potential. Little by little, through climbing, mountaineering, trekking and the various specializations I mentioned, we helped develop a concrete range of activities. Today there are several mountain guides in the valley, although not many. There are perhaps seven or eight of us, and only a few work full-time. But back then, there was really nothing. That’s why I feel our work gave the area an important boost.”
Looking back, how does it make you feel to have built something in a place where, as you describe, there was practically nothing?
“I would like to convey the idea that a woman can do anything. She doesn't have to give up work to be a mother, nor motherhood to pursue a dream. I would like to teach her to work hard, to follow her goals with determination, to aim high. But also to listen to her dreams with the right awareness of her limits, without experiencing them as a burden, but rather as a strength.
Showing one's fragility does not mean being less strong. I can be a prima ballerina even while showing my weaknesses. The truth—one's own truth—always pays off. It shouldn't be a truth that pleases others, or one that is subservient to society, but the one you feel is authentic and yours. Great results can be achieved with that, too.”
With this in mind, what do your mountains represent to you?
“To answer, I have to start with specific places. Just a few kilometres from my home, in Valchiavenna, you cross into Switzerland and reach Val Bondasca, the valley dominated by Pizzo Badile and the Sciora Group. It is where I grew as a mountaineer and a place I remain deeply connected to. As I mentioned, for three summers I managed, together with a friend, the mountain hut at the foot of Pizzo Badile. She was the hut keeper and I was her assistant. It was a fundamental experience. Looking at photographs of Val Bondasca, you immediately understand why I speak about it in these terms. It is an extraordinary valley, a kind of little Patagonia in the heart of the Alps. It lies on the Swiss side of Bregaglia, but the mountain ridge marks the border with Val Masino, on the Italian side. This is where I started climbing, exploring the high mountains and developing my deepest connection with mountaineering. If I have to think of a mountain that represents me, I immediately think of Pizzo Badile. I even dedicated a book to this mountain. It is a mountaineering guide, but also a collection of experiences, encounters and stories connected to the climbers who lived and climbed that face. I feel deeply connected to this valley because it is the place where my passion began. I love all of the mountains, woods, trails and peaks of Valchiavenna, but from a mountaineering perspective, Val Bondasca represents something special. It is the place where it all began.”
Throughout your career, you have opened numerous new climbing routes. What does the process of opening a route mean to you? What does it feel like to see a vertical possibility where no one before you has managed to see it?
“When you know a mountain deeply and start imagining a new line on its face, what you feel above all is a sense of adventure. It is like setting off on an expedition to an unknown place. You cannot observe everything from above, and you don’t have drones showing you the route. You see only a possibility, a trace, a series of intuitions that emerge... Then, you enter the face. And that is where the real adventure begins. Pitch after pitch, step after step, hold after hold, you discover a dimension you don’t know. You enter the heart of the mountain, the heart of the rock. For me, opening a new route is first and foremost exploration. Of course, there is also a sporting aspect, but what prevails is the feeling of being in a place where no one has been before. It is the discovery of something new. We have had experiences like this in almost all the valleys around us. Each time, the feeling and the process were the same: seeing possibilities and turning them into real routes.”
How did canyoning become part of your life in the mountains, both as an athlete and beyond?
“Canyoning also grew out of that same drive to explore. In the mid-1990s, Franco, some colleagues from the valley and I began to look at the mountains from a completely different perspective: that of the streams. We are talking about true canyons, deeply carved into the rock, which at the time were almost completely unknown. We started with the Bondasca stream, in the valley I mentioned earlier. For me, it was like opening my first climbing route in the mountains. That descent marked the beginning of a new adventure. Exploring a stream also means equipping it, understanding its shapes and logic, and making it accessible. From there, we gradually moved on to exploring all the main canyons in the valley, up to the most famous one: the Boggia stream. Today, Val Bodengo is known internationally and represents an important part of our work. During the summer, a large part of our work takes place there. We were fortunate to discover and develop this side of the mountains too, because it allows us to work immersed in such varied and extraordinarily beautiful nature... Ultimately, it was the natural continuation of the same spirit of exploration that had guided me and us towards mountaineering. After the adventure of the rock faces came the adventure of water.”
How do these two dimensions communicate with each other? They are very similar practices, yet at the same time profoundly different.
“Rock and water share something essential. When you face a rock face, you enter the rock. You become part of it. You don’t observe it from the outside: you experience it through every movement. Something similar happens with water. When you find yourself in a canyon, immersed in a living current, you are not simply an observer. You become part of that element. The feeling is one of complete fusion. In the rock, you are rock. In the water, you are water. And it is something beautiful. For me, there is a deep continuity between these two worlds. In both cases, you are not simply moving through a natural environment: you are entering into a relationship with it. There is no distance. When you climb, you become part of the rock face. When you are immersed in a stream, you feel the water enveloping you and carrying you along with its movement. It is this total immersion that these two experiences have in common and that continues to fascinate me to this day.”
“Mountain water is alive,” you said when talking about your canyoning activities. What do you mean when you use the term “alive”?
“It is something you have to experience to truly understand. Mountain water has nothing to do with the sea. The water in mountain streams is different. It is alive. When you are under a waterfall during a rappel or when you find yourself caught in a hydraulic and have to get out of it, you clearly feel the force of the water. It is as if it were speaking to you. You perceive the power of nature in a direct and immediate way. It is a force that must be respected and listened to. That is why I say it is alive. You have to experience it to truly understand what that means.”
“In the mountains, you have to move at the right pace,” you also said. What kind of pace are we talking about?
“Everyone has their own pace. Everyone develops a different relationship with the mountains and, consequently, a different rhythm. In my case, especially in my work as a guide, there is a very important dimension: communication. When you accompany someone on a rock face or along a route, you cannot simply rush. You have to find a balance between safety, enjoyment and experience. You have to allow the person with you to savour what they are experiencing. There is a right pace, which does not necessarily mean going slowly, but rather being able to fully experience what you are doing. That said, I have also learned to appreciate completely different approaches. I think of Filip Babicz, a very dear friend and one of the most extraordinary practitioners of speed solo climbing. I met him here, when he climbed Pizzo Badile in an incredible time. Thanks to an athlete of his calibre, I understood that you can experience the mountains through extreme speed as well. Many people criticize this kind of approach, but I respect it. Everyone develops their own philosophy and their own way of relating to the mountains. What matters is awareness.”
And how important is the cultural dimension of the mountains to you? What role do history, storytelling and the passing on of knowledge play in your work?
“All of this matters enormously. Mountain guides have an incredible privilege. They are not limited to teaching a technique, as can happen in many other sports. Of course, we can teach people how to climb, move on ice, ski off-piste or navigate a canyon. But our role goes far beyond that. We have the opportunity to accompany people into an extraordinary world. And that is precisely the most important part. I often find myself talking to colleagues who focus exclusively on the technical side of the activity. You climb, you descend, you move on. I, on the other hand, feel the need to tell the story. Why is that waterfall there? Why does that rock have that shape? Why did that environment become what it is? All of this becomes part of a more complete experience. People do not come simply to perform a sporting activity. They enter into a relationship with a complex environment, rich in history, geology, nature and culture. We have the opportunity to open the doors to this world for them. Of course, we also need to convey respect for the mountains and an awareness of their risks. The mountains are not just about beauty. They also involve responsibility. That is why I consider being a mountain guide one of the most beautiful professions there is. It allows us to bring together safety, knowledge, human experience and storytelling.”
Do you ever experience moments when what you are looking at reminds you of the purest form of art?
“Certainly. For me, nature itself is art. When you are climbing and you see a perfect edge, light filtering through the rocks or a particular shape of the mountain, you are already looking at something artistic. The same happens in canyons. When the light comes down from above and illuminates the water, creating reflections and colours that would be impossible to imagine elsewhere... That, for me, is pure art. It is not necessarily a figurative representation. It is a matter of shapes, colours and harmonies. What strikes me is precisely nature’s ability to create images that seem like works of art in their own right. Sometimes you stop for a moment. You are belaying someone, or watching someone tackle a particularly beautiful section. Then you look up and see the light on the rocks. In that moment, you realize that everything around you is art. The art of nature. And it is one of the most precious things the mountains continue to give me.”
In some interviews, you have spoken about technique and beauty in relation to your approach to mountaineering and canyoning. How do rationality and irrationality coexist in what you do?
“First and foremost, there is a deep sense of pleasure. When you realize that you are in an environment that welcomes you, even though it is a world apart and inherently hostile, and when you learn to read and understand it... something special emerges. It happens on rock faces, just as it does in water. Naturally, there is an essential technical component. You need to know the techniques, understand how to approach a rappel under a waterfall, how to get out of a hydraulic, how to avoid a siphon. These are vital aspects that require attention and preparation, but when technical knowledge and your relationship with the environment manage to merge, something extraordinary is created.”
How does it feel today to have become a role model, both for women choosing a career as mountain guides and for those who approach the mountains inspired by your example?
“Without a doubt, it makes me very happy. Today there are around thirty female mountain guides in Italy, and I believe that just over half of them work as guides full-time. Many have other jobs and combine guiding with other occupations. These numbers are still small, especially compared with Switzerland, where the presence of women is much more significant. But this also depends on a different culture surrounding the mountains and the profession. It makes me particularly happy when younger women recognize what has been achieved. I remember, for example, a lovely conversation with Federica Mingolla when she came here to Chiavenna. Or the encounters with other young female mountaineers who are now building their own paths. When I sense this kind of recognition and gratitude, I am happy. Not because I seek approval, but because it means that something has been passed on. I realize that I have opened a path. Naturally, that path is only one part of my life. Alongside the mountains, there have always been family, loved ones, joys and difficulties that everyone goes through. And yet, I have managed to face many of the challenges I encountered thanks to the strength that this life choice has given me.”
Previously
Episode 5: Sanremo Tennis Club
Former professional tennis players, now founders of the Sanremo Tennis Team and coaches of young athletes.
Episode 6: Renata Rossi
Italy’s first female mountain guide, she has made the mountains her way of life since 1984.
