Jorge Díaz-Rullo Calls His New First Ascent the “Best Four Minutes of Climbing” in His Life

In the late afternoon on Friday, March 13, Jorge Díaz-Rullo climbed through a wet streak running down the final 15 feet of his long-time Café Colombia project. Nearly five years after first attempting the line, he clipped the chains and sagged onto his rope in complete silence.

It had been a perfect late-winter day in the Racó de la Finestra sector of Margalef, Spain, where the route is located. My wife and I walked the road under an impossibly blue sky, birds chirping, happy to be approaching the crag after several restless days of heavy rain. Finally, the sun began to dry the soaked earth and rock. By 11 a.m., other climbers began arriving, even as streaks of water still ran down most of the conglomerate walls and many routes remained damp.

By mid-afternoon that Friday the 13th, the wind picked up and the conditions turned perfect—just enough humidity for the rock to feel sticky, with a steady breeze sweeping through the canyon.

Then we heard screams.

¡Venga, máquina! ¡Con calma!

“Must be Jorge!” said a Spanish climber.

People drifted around the corner for a clear view into the massive Finestra cave. Near the lip of the cave, Jorge Díaz-Rullo—one of the world’s most accomplished sport climbers, with over 100 routes at 9a (14d) or harder, and redpoints up to 9b+ (5.15c)—launched into a huge move out right. His feet cut loose, he let out a scream that echoed out of the amphitheater, sucked himself back in, and threw up a heel hook to shake out.

“I think he’s sending,” I said to the Spaniard standing next to me.

Everyone at the crag had stopped what they were doing. Of the 30-some climbers spread out at Finestra that day, I gathered with 15-20 of them, perched on a slight hillside, looking down into the cave where Díaz-Rullo was climbing. People hung on their ropes mid-route to watch. Most anyone who follows climbing news likely knows the project: nearly five years of effort and more than 200 days of attempts. Café Colombia is a 30-meter-long direttissima out of the cave, blasting straight through the 45-degree overhang. Standing below it, the smooth, cream-colored rock looks almost featureless—like a blank road tilted toward the sky.

Established on the headwall, Díaz-Rullo began moving upward on what appeared to be easier ground. But thick streaks of water ran down from the chains. He locked off to touch a hold in the wet streak, dropped back down to chalk, and tried again.

“¡Venga, máquina! ¡Con calma!” (Let’s go, beast! Take it easy!) echoed from the crowd.

There was an air of importance among the crowd, a sense that we were witnessing something historic—even if not everyone knew exactly what was happening. Aside from a few voices shouting encouragement, the rest of us were silent, holding our breath as he appeared to move with steady, deliberate control.

Then he committed.

Díaz-Rullo grabbed the wet hold, moved right into dry rock, and gained the final wet streak below the anchors. Clipping from low, he made one last move up and right to the top of the wall, where the rock fades into dirt and vegetation.

He held it for a long moment—then let go.

As he hung from the end of his rope, motionless, the entire amphitheater erupted in cheers.

The 240-day project

Café Colombia has been the final piece of a puzzle for Jorge Díaz-Rullo since 2021. The 27-year-old Spanish climber has spent hundreds of days in the Finestra cave in Margalef, working not only the direct line that would become Café Colombia, but also various linkups that allowed him to climb different sections of the route using various combinations.

Díaz-Rullo first began working on the project in the fall of 2021. Rather than immediately attempting the full link, he began breaking the climb into sections, establishing slightly easier combinations. In November 2021, he climbed the lower half of the line before exiting left to establish Café Solo, which he proposed at 9b (5.15b).

Over the following seasons he continued assembling the pieces. In 2022, he climbed the upper section of the project by starting on neighboring routes to the left—Carlota la Colombiana 9a+ (5.15a) and Alex Megos’s The Journey in Colombia 9b (5.15b)—effectively completing the top half of the line.

Throughout this process, Díaz-Rullo had already climbed nearly every section of the route, but never in the direct sequence. In the spring of 2023, he began seriously attempting the full line and came agonizingly close several times, falling on the final crux.

The difficulty of the upper section became increasingly apparent as he started getting there from the ground. Earlier this year, Díaz-Rullo wrote in an Instagram post that even after more than 20 falls on the upper crux, the final boulder problem remained “brutal.”

“I thought the final boulder wouldn’t feel that hard coming from the ground,” he wrote. “But the closer I got, the more I realized how brutal it actually is. In the end, the ‘rest’ isn’t really much of a rest when you come out of a 9b (5.15b) or 9b+ (5.15c) section and still have to continue with an 8B (V13) boulder.”

Along the way, he also completed Mejorando la Samfaina, another brutally steep line in the Finestra cave for which he proposed 9b+ (5.15c). The ascent made him the eighth climber—and the first Spaniard—to climb the grade. It also helped him refine the powerful, endurance-heavy style required to top Café Colombia, which is expected to be at least a 9c (5.15d) given Díaz-Rullo’s resume on rock and the time the project took him.

Despite the years of work, Díaz-Rullo says the project has largely been a solitary effort.

“I’ve always tried to encourage everyone to come and try it with me,” he said in a previous interview with Scarpa. “Some of the best climbers in the world have looked at it, but none have felt motivated. It makes me more aware of its difficulty—but it also saddens me. I would love to share the whole process with someone. Sometimes the project feels even harder because I find myself alone trying it.”

I was lucky enough to be at the crag that day to witness Díaz-Rullo’s historic send: his 240th day on the route. Afterward, I caught up with him here in Spain to talk about the moment, the years-long process behind it, and what it took to finally clip the chains.

An interview with Jorge Díaz-Rullo on Café Colombia

This interview has been lightly edited for concision and clarity. 

Climbing: What first drew you to this line and made you commit to it for so long? Was there ever a moment when you considered giving up and moving on?

Jorge Díaz-Rullo: My friend Anghelo Bernal who bolted the route told me about the line. At first, I didn’t even want to get on it because it clearly looked much harder than the rest of the lines on the Finestra wall. But one day I ended up trying it and got hooked—the moves were spectacular, but what attracted me the most was the challenge it represented. At that time, it wasn’t a style that suited me well, and from the very beginning I knew it would require a huge effort to improve if I wanted to climb it.

Many times, I considered giving up. In fact, the hardest part of the project has been dealing with frustration. There were many days and even entire periods where I went backwards. I took a lot of hits, and getting back up from some of them was really tough. In the end, it’s inevitable to experience all kinds of emotions in such a long-term project that pushes you to your limits.

Climbing: Looking back on the entire process—several years and hundreds of days on the route—what stands out most about that journey?

Díaz-Rullo: What stands out the most is everything I’ve learned and everything I had to do to achieve a dream that initially felt unimaginable. I pushed my limits in every sense, tried to improve every tiny detail, became obsessed with rising to something that felt impossible. I worked harder than ever before. Café Colombia has made me the climber I am today.

Climbing: When you arrived at the crag that morning, what was your mindset? Did it feel like a real redpoint day, or just another session on the route?

Díaz-Rullo: Honestly, that day and in the moments before trying, I didn’t feel anything special. I wouldn’t have imagined it would be the day. Due to rain, I hadn’t tried it for 10 days. I had traveled from my home in Madrid the day before, and it was my first attempt back, so expectations weren’t very high. At the same time, in my last sessions I had been very close to sending, the conditions were very good, and I felt physically strong, so I had to give it a try.

Climbing: The upper part of the route was visibly wet that day. Did that change your plan going into the attempt, or were you simply going to climb and see what happened if you reached that section?

Díaz-Rullo: I knew the final slab was wet, but that didn’t affect my decision to try from the ground. I knew it would be an extra challenge to climb the final slab wet, but in my mind I was convinced it wouldn’t cause me to fall. In the end, I have the route very dialed, and most of it is overhanging.

Climbing: From the ground we watched you climb into the wet section near the top, then downclimb to the rest and try again. What was going through your mind in that moment? Did you know those holds would work, or were you figuring it out in real time? And how difficult is that section normally, in perfect conditions?

Díaz-Rullo: I just focused on staying calm. I knew it was done, but I also knew it was absolutely necessary to stay focused, climb more delicately with my feet, and apply just the right amount of force on those wet holds. That final section isn’t very hard, although I admit it made me very nervous—a tiny slip could have cost me everything.

Climbing: You stuck the boulder problem you had never linked from the ground. What did that moment feel like physically and mentally? At that point, how do you keep your mind from getting ahead of itself or thinking about the chains too early?

Díaz-Rullo: Physically, I felt incredible. I literally felt like I was floating, like I wasn’t getting tired. When I reached the upper section, I even thought: “You’re going bolt to bolt,” “this is the moment to do it.” I won’t deny that this took something away from me at some point. But at the same time, I quickly got back into flow by telling myself: “Now stay focused,” “execute every detail.” I’ve worked a lot on that mental side, and thanks to that, I was able to keep going and use those thoughts in a positive way.

I honestly felt like those were the best four minutes of climbing of my life, I had never felt so fit.

Climbing: After hundreds of days on the route, why do you think it finally happened on that particular day?

Díaz-Rullo: Everything finally aligned. Everything was in my favor. Physically, I felt very strong, I was well-rested, my skin was perfect, the conditions were great. Psychologically, everything was on my side. Motivation, confidence, and calmness all came together. During the attempt, everything flowed in harmony. I barely made any mistakes; I remember it as almost perfect.

Climbing: Now that it’s done, what does it feel like to close a chapter of your life that has shaped so much of your training, decisions, and focus for so long?

Díaz-Rullo: It represents a before and after. In a way, it’s closing a cycle, a life goal that finally became reality. It has taught me all kinds of lessons, not just as an athlete, but as a person. Most importantly, it has given me confidence. I know that with effort, anything is possible, and now I know how far I can go. I have the tools to do it, and I hope to apply that to future projects.

Climbing: Finally, what’s the story behind the name Café Colombia?

Díaz-Rullo: [The climber] who bolted the route is from Colombia, and he named it in reference to the country’s coffee production, drawing a parallel with something strong and high quality.

This is a developing story. We will update it when Díaz-Rullo proposes a grade for the route in the coming days. 

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