That was the moment I understood what altitude sickness really is, or “the mountain bug” as it is also called. The way I felt reminded me of food poisoning. My legs felt as if they belonged to someone else, and the tiredness was in my whole body. I changed my clothes quickly, managed to rest a little at the halt, drank some tea and ate that same vitamin C that had bailed me out more than once. It got a little easier. As soon as we were back in camp the feeling of being unwell disappeared. I concluded straight away that it is better to walk slowly and be slightly cold than to hurry and overheat. On the way to camp I was lucky enough to see an extraordinary cloud, one that was both striking and delightful to look at. It came towards us fast and had covered us within ten minutes. We got back to camp at half past six in the evening. We spent the rest of the evening on various camp chores, resting a great deal and thinking about the ascent to the summit ahead of us. It was decided to give us a rest day so that we could build up our strength for the climb to come. I sincerely felt I had been lucky with my group – there was never a dull moment with them. Despite the strong wind we even managed a game of cards.
Our instructor went over to the rescuers’ base to find out the weather forecast. That really does matter while you are in the mountains. Sometimes bad weather can last not just a day but weeks on end. So however well you have prepared, climbing in conditions like that is impossible. You have to understand that in the mountains you are genuinely, if I can put it that way, at the mercy of the forces of nature, and competing with them is unwise to say the least. We really were happy: the forecast gave us hope of success. On top of that there was a full moon, which was also considered a good sign. So it was decided to take the chance and start the climb the very next day. Everyone was extremely excited. I did not think I would be able to sleep at all. Everyone started packing, since the ascent was scheduled for one in the morning. I went to my tent and packed my rucksack quickly, wanting to take as much with me as I could. I distributed everything among the pockets, brought my boots into the tent, climbed into my sleeping bag and tried to sleep. I could hardly believe I would manage to fall asleep at six in the evening, but fortunately I did.
During the night we had a rather early breakfast, or a late supper. I ate a little, knowing that I needed strength and that food is energy. As soon as we had finished getting ready we roped up and set off. Our silence was broken only occasionally, when we had to jump across crevasses in the glacier. They say that in places they are as much as two hundred metres deep. At five o’clock we met the dawn on the slopes of the mountain. It really was an incredible sight. We were joined by the emergency-service rescuers, who walked behind us and kept an eye on us the whole time. At twenty past six we made a short halt at four thousand five hundred metres. The place is called the Lower Lenz Rocks. This was exactly where I had felt so bad a couple of days earlier. I tried to listen to my body. This time I felt no signs of altitude sickness. I was glad, but I decided not to relax all the same, and I watched how I was feeling closely. We took the ropes off, since there were no more crevasses ahead, and we could carry on unroped. The altitude here is already considerable and the lack of oxygen was noticeable. The back in front of me kept sending me into a trance. It was hard to judge the time; it felt as if it had stopped. Now and then I lifted my head to work out how close the summit was, and each time I saw again that it was still out of reach. We made our unhurried way to the Lenz Rocks at five thousand metres. Here the rescuers warned some members of our group that they did not recommend continuing the climb because of signs of altitude sickness. Everyone else set off onwards. We had to get over what is known as the “Eternal Dome”, a gentle snow slope. Beyond it the summit of Elbrus itself came into view. It drew us on, deceptively. I felt strange at that point: I would take a step, count to three and step again. Odd as it may sound, I was moving at the speed of a tortoise. And the surprising thing is that at that pace I began to overtake the other members of the climb. I remember the way the altitude affected my body changing. I even felt a sort of euphoria, an excitement, a slight intoxication. Thoughts turned over in my head, but most of all I thought about what really matters to me. Every new step reminded me of something from the past. Music wove itself in among those memories. At some point I realised that apart from the person walking in front of me there was nothing around at all. The weather turned sharply: strong wind and snow cut visibility to less than fifteen metres. The situation we found ourselves in was extremely unfavourable. I kept walking behind the person ahead. In the end we reached the edge of Elbrus. You could say we had climbed it. Further on there was supposed to be a memorial obelisk where climbers always have their photograph taken, and we walked on.
The wind grew stronger and stronger, howling with fresh force. I kept turning away from it and very nearly walked straight into the monument. Several members of our group were sitting around it. The instructor congratulated me and took a few photographs to remember it by. That was how I came to climb to the summit of Elbrus, whose height is five thousand six hundred and twenty-one metres. I had only just started to take in everything I had been through when a rescuer appeared and ordered us to descend immediately because of the strong wind. At that moment it was as if I had found new strength, and my head began to work clearly and sharply. On the whole I felt superb. Going down was far easier than climbing up. The weather was improving as well. At six in the evening we got back to camp and went into the tents to get our breath back a little. After that we sat down to tea and food. Hardly anyone wanted to talk; everyone was taking in what had happened.
And then it was my favourite time of day again – five in the morning. We were thoroughly tired of rock and ice, and we thought often about the first camp. We asked the organisers if we could go back down to the lower camp, where beautiful green grass, warmth and good food were waiting for us. By ten in the morning we had struck camp and set off downhill. The way was quite hard going, but the thought of the camp gave us strength. When we reached it, the whole group felt an incredible bliss, especially after a cup of tea each. We had no wish to unpack our rucksacks and pitch camp all over again. A couple of hours later transport came for us and we set off for Pyatigorsk. Curiously, on the way we saw three beautiful rainbows at once. It was the first time in my life. Before that, to see something like it you had to tip your head right back. Now we understood clearly what an adventure we had had, and we realised that we had become a real team. Every one of us had given two hundred per cent. The feelings were very vivid. We joked, laughed and took delight in everything that was happening. It was almost night by the time we checked into the hotel. As soon as we had changed into ordinary clothes, we noticed that we had lost weight.
That night none of us wanted to sleep, so we decided to walk around Pyatigorsk by night. We admired the beauty and the distinctive character of the region. Then we went into a local restaurant to eat ordinary, normal food. Curiously, we each ate only a small piece and already felt full.
The very next morning I packed, returned the equipment I had hired and set off for the airport. A couple of hours later I was with my family, telling them a great deal about my most unusual holiday.
Editorial medical note. The sensations described here are one person’s experience, not a way of diagnosing yourself. Similar symptoms can have different causes; report them to your guide and do not continue gaining altitude until your condition has been assessed. Source: CDC Yellow Book – High-Altitude Travel and Altitude Illness.