A medical emergency, a spontaneous change of plans, and a striking rock formation in one of the most remote corners of the Arctic: Swiss extreme mountaineer Dani Arnold has written a new chapter in his adventure career with an extraordinary winter ascent.
When the Canadian local guide who was supposed to provide logistical support for Arnold’s climbing expedition in North America had to cancel due to an acute medical emergency, a long-planned project suddenly seemed on the verge of falling apart at the last minute. The original plan had been to climb a remote rock formation in Canada, a typical undertaking for Arnold, who is internationally known for his fast, bold, and technically demanding solo ascents. But the Arctic rarely shows itself accommodating – this time even before the journey had begun.
A new plan from the far north
Through adventurer Thomas Ulrich, a long-time friend, Arnold first heard about a striking rock formation in Svalbard: the Tarantellen. A geologically fascinating, wild, towering structure north of the former Russian mining settlement of Pyramiden. Ulrich’s stories immediately sparked Arnold’s interest. The formation is documented and is occasionally visited in both winter and summer by locals on snowmobile tours, but it remains largely untouched.
Without hesitation, Arnold contacted Swiss guide Marcel Schütz, who works in Svalbard and has many years of expedition experience in the Arctic. Within just a few days, the two developed a new plan and obtained the necessary permits: Nothing stood in the way of the expedition to the Tarantellen anymore.
A day between valleys and glaciers
After thorough preparation in Svalbard’s main town of Longyearbyen, Arnold and his five-person team set out north. A full day on snowmobiles took them through wide valleys, across frozen plains, and over the jagged tongues of several glaciers. The wind whipped snow through the air, the landscape was monochrome white – the expedition hoped for better weather.
Eventually, they reached the Lomonosovfonna, and the weather changed. Suddenly visibility was clear, revealing Svalbard’s mountains in all their vastness. They stopped repeatedly to take in the white expanses. Then, far in the distance, the characteristic profile of the Tarantellen appeared for the first time. But it was still a long way to the McWhaebreen, where they planned to set up camp or – if there was enough snow accumulation – build a snow cave.
Shortly before reaching the destination, things became tense: large crevasses opened up to the sides, slowing their progress until they finally reached a sheltered, safe spot at the foot of the slope leading to the Tarantellen formation.
Instead of pitching tents, they decided to build a snow cave. Within about three hours, a well-reinforced, deep enough shelter was ready, capable of withstanding the steady Arctic wind. Meanwhile, Arnold explored the surroundings. After he returned, it was clear: he wanted to attempt the climb – but first everyone needed rest.
After a quick dinner they went to sleep early. Team members Schütz, Escher, Monsorno, and Kusstatscher took turns on polar-bear watch. The cold penetrated deeply into the gear, constant movement was necessary. To stay warm and pass the time, they continued building at the entrance while enjoying the breathtaking Arctic landscape. The night was freezing – an almost surreal experience at around minus 30 degrees.
The ascent: A battle against cold and brittle rock
The next morning, after breakfast, Arnold and his team headed toward the Tarantellen. The steep formation rose like a frozen monolithic sculpture from the landscape. At its base, it was clear: this climb would require technical skill and precise decision-making. The rock consisted mainly of shale – fragile, sensitive – and offered little ice for secure placements. Arnold decided to protect himself as he led the climb. One wrong move without protection could have had dramatic consequences.
He studied the face carefully, examined possible lines, and searched for logical passages in a structure that seemed anything but logical. Finally, he chose his route – and began to climb.
It became an intense and demanding few hours. Ice-cold wind cut through the clothing, fingers and toes ached. Yet Arnold remained focused, precise, determined. After roughly four hours, on March 25, 2024, at exactly 11:17 a.m., he stood on the summit of the Tarantellen – the first person ever to climb this formation in winter.
The emotions were “overwhelming,” he later said – not only because of the success, but also because of the view and the Arctic silence that surrounded him at the top. Impressions found only in the most remote places of the world.
Return to camp and one last adventure
The descent was quick, and the team returned to the snow cave. After packing everything up, they began the long journey back – about a hundred kilometers over glaciers and valleys to Longyearbyen.
But the adventure wasn’t over yet: the next day, Arnold and his team headed for Svalbard’s east coast. There he climbed the front of a massive glacier and – in a rare opportunity – an iceberg frozen into the pack ice in a secluded bay. These climbs were part of film and sponsorship shoots that made the project possible in the first place and contributed to its great success.
A chapter of Arctic mountaineering history
With his first winter ascent of the Tarantellen, Dani Arnold once again proved that true adventures often demand improvisation and spontaneous decisions – and that the extraordinary begins where everything was supposed to happen differently.
A cancelled expedition became a spectacular Arctic journey; a spontaneous idea became a milestone in winter climbing.
“You should never give up hope and keep going.” – Dani Arnold
Marcel Schütz, PolarJournal