Several years ago, I visited the Elbrus region for the first time. By then, I already dreamed of climbing Elbrus. The weather was unsuitable, however, and I was unable to carry out my plan. From that time onwards, the thought of climbing Elbrus would not leave me alone. Whenever I returned to the Caucasus, I once again dreamed of conquering Elbrus, but time after time the weather was not on my side. Perhaps the mighty giant simply believed that I was not yet ready for the ascent.
When the time came once again to choose a holiday destination, I chose my dream and decided to try my luck at Elbrus one more time. I was not the only person who dreamed of conquering the summit and completing the climb. I was fortunate to know other mountain enthusiasts. In the final days before the trip, however, their plans suddenly changed, and I urgently had to find a new group to join. Luck unexpectedly smiled on me: I found myself among like-minded people. Naturally, I wanted to climb with experienced guides, so I chose one of the best tour companies. I was satisfied with its pricing, the quality of its services and an interesting itinerary that had been carefully considered down to the smallest detail and delivered to a high standard.
Once our group had gathered, we went to buy the food we needed and then travelled to the village of Neutrino in the Baksan Gorge. The journey took around three hours, which flew by unnoticed. We watched the passing scenery through the windows with interest and listened to the driver’s fascinating stories. As soon as we arrived at the base, we left our belongings, changed into comfortable clothes and went to collect the climbing equipment we still needed. Afterwards, we decided to recover a little from the journey and set off for the mineral springs. The walk proved both refreshing and enjoyable.
The following day, we made an acclimatisation hike into the valley beneath the Vostochny Kurmychi Glacier. During the first day, most of the route passed through forest, which protected us from overheating. The walk took approximately five hours, and we even reached our destination with a little time to spare. While we were drinking tea, an enormous cloud suddenly enveloped us, but it did not frighten us. We were mentally prepared for the weather’s possible whims. The cloud moved away, and the rain never came. We spent that evening cheerfully, joking, playing games and enjoying one another’s company before retiring to our tents.
The third day was no less eventful. We climbed through crevices, endured severe cold at camp and ate dinner beneath the stars. On the fourth day, we began the ascent towards the summit of Kurmychi. The route included several sections of unroped scrambling, while protection was set up in one place for safety. Our reward was a magnificent view of the Bezengi Wall, the mountain ranges of the Caucasus and Elbrus itself. During the descent, many of us practised walking in crampons on the glacier.
The fifth day was set aside for descending to the hotel. That evening, we held a lavish dinner prepared by members of the group. We repacked our rucksacks and prepared our clothing and equipment for the climb. At last, we travelled to the foot of Elbrus. As the cable car carried us upwards, I felt nervous and wondered whether the weather would be on our side this time. I knew that I was physically ready for the ascent, but I also understood that much depended on factors beyond my control.
We rose early and headed towards the Pastukhov Rocks for a training hike. We learnt to travel roped together and practised self-arrest with an ice axe. We also learnt how to place ice screws. The day was demanding, both physically and psychologically. The weather pleased us that day, but the forecast for the days ahead was discouraging, which naturally made us uneasy. Someone suggested taking a snowcat as far as the Kosaya Polka traverse, but I was firmly against it. I had not come here to ride in snowcats. In the end, we decided to continue under our own power.
We went to bed at around six in the evening because a difficult day lay ahead. Many people turned in early, but I stayed up a little longer to talk with the guide over a cup of tea. Our guide proved to be a cheerful, experienced man who had climbed Elbrus dozens of times. I shared my fears with him, and he helped dispel my doubts.
That evening, I lay awake for a long time thinking about the coming ascent and the difficulties we might encounter, but eventually I managed to sleep for a while. We were due to get up at one in the morning. We prepared and stepped outside wearing our crampons. The weather looked promising: the sky was clear and full of stars, and both summits were distinctly visible. This gave us confidence. We left the refuge at around three in the morning and began climbing towards the summit at a comfortable pace that allowed us to breathe steadily without tiring.
We reached the upper Pastukhov Rocks after two and a half hours, and the first people began to fall behind there. While we waited for them, I managed to doze for a while against my rucksack. It was especially difficult to resist sleep before dawn. Our next stop was the beginning of the Kosaya Polka traverse, where it became clear that two members could not continue and had to turn back. Interestingly, two other groups of climbers were ascending alongside us. Sometimes one group overtook another, only for us to meet again later, adding a sense of competition. At the beginning of the Kosaya Polka, we joined together and continued as a single group. Our pace slowed considerably on this section, and we began stopping more often and allowing more time for rest.
We reached the saddle at around ten in the morning. The ascent from the saddle to the summit was difficult for everyone. Some complained of headaches that made breathing more difficult, but nobody intended to give up. We drank tea, had a snack and continued. This section was especially hard, and I began to experience symptoms of altitude illness. At one point, I felt nauseated and developed stomach pain. These sensations unsettled me, and I stopped every ten to fifteen steps. After passing the section with ropes, we emerged onto a plateau where the summit appeared to be visible. The guide warned us, however, that it was a false summit. At that moment, I felt my strength deserting me, but the thought that the goal was close urged me onwards. We moved slowly, and at one point I realised that I could barely put one foot in front of the other and could not imagine how we would manage the descent.
When I finally approached the summit, photographs were taken of me. I smiled for the camera and then collapsed with exhaustion. Realising that I had managed to reach the summit gave me strength, however, and euphoria soon followed. We embraced and congratulated one another, but the weather deteriorated sharply, so we hurried to begin the descent. On the way, we met other groups and offered them encouragement. The descent took approximately two and a half hours, and our dream had come true.