At that point, we could see neither the summit itself nor anything else apart from the rock where we had stopped. Our instructor said that he could not offer any advice because we could see the weather for ourselves and therefore had to make our own decision. He simply pointed somewhere into the emptiness and said that the dome and the summits were over there. Once again, we had to make the one correct choice. After all the stories I had heard about even experienced people sometimes dying on the slopes of Elbrus, I was quite ready to turn back. Yet it would have been deeply frustrating to do so with only about four hundred metres remaining to the summit. I then remembered a well-known person’s observation that mountaineering is merely a sport and is not worth anyone’s life. The argument in favour of continuing was that we had a GPS navigator with us. It had recorded our entire ascent route, so we believed that we could always find the way back if necessary. At that moment, one of the American climbers was being led downhill because he had become unwell. We drank a cup of tea each and then set off.
We walked through complete emptiness, with visibility of only a few metres. Our method of navigation was simply to continue upwards on the steepest gradient of the dome. That, we hoped, would take us to the summit itself. Kolya led the way and had the hardest task of all, breaking a trail through the fresh snow. We now rested much more frequently. At the same time, I did not feel excessively tired, and my head did not hurt. There was simply not enough air. We gained altitude slowly, and I had to check the navigator frequently. The target altitude did not approach as quickly as I would have liked. The hardest part of the mountain seemed to be the ascent of the dome itself, especially in such dense fog. After some time, we reached a rocky ridge. We could not see the route and did not know where to go, so we moved almost at random towards what appeared to be the ridge’s highest point. We took our final few steps across the rocks, and suddenly all of us stood on what we believed to be the long-awaited eastern summit of mighty Elbrus. When we took out the navigator, it showed an altitude of five thousand six hundred ten metres. The summit was approximately one hundred metres away from us. When the fog cleared for thirty minutes, we could see the summit and the American climbers beside it. We decided, however, that there was only snow there, while our position had rocks and was therefore much more interesting. Nobody wanted to climb the summit again because we felt that we had already claimed our own. Words cannot, of course, convey all the feelings and emotions experienced high on the mountain. We stayed there for roughly half an hour and then began descending. We now decided to use the navigator, such an important device in the mountains. Without it, finding the trail again would have been genuinely difficult. Once we reached our former track, all that remained was to keep walking. During the descent, we saw the foreign climbers we knew. It turned out that they too had continued upwards. They asked which way they needed to go to reach the summit. Visibility was poor, and they did not have a navigator. We immediately told them that proceeding without one was truly risky. They answered that they had their own mission on Elbrus. We chose not to ask what mission they meant. At an altitude of five thousand two hundred metres, we saw the group of Americans. The fog gradually dispersed, and the sun emerged again. Its warmth was very pleasant and lifted our spirits. As we descended the dome, one member of our group suddenly became genuinely unwell, bringing our descent to a halt. It is often said that in the mountains it is better not to delay the descent, but to go down as quickly as circumstances permit while making as few stops as possible. Once we had descended to four thousand eight hundred metres, we decided to take a break. We badly wanted some tea. The American climbers soon caught up with us, and we began descending together. I then felt a strong urge to photograph the beauty around us, and at last I had the perfect opportunity. Not even the cold could stop me. We rested for roughly half an hour and then continued. Closer to three in the afternoon, we finally reached camp. The entire summit attempt took our group around thirteen hours: nine and a half hours for the ascent itself, half an hour at the top and about three hours for the descent. Overall, this could be called a good result, above average, although experienced mountaineers can complete the route much faster. Our acclimatisation took four nights, and the summit attempt came on the fifth night. We were fortunate that five people from our group reached the top, three of whom were in the mountains for the first time. By my own reckoning, climbing Elbrus was easier than I had expected. After reading many different reports, I had thought that I might not make it. Reality proved quite different. Once I had descended, I felt very tired, but not overwhelmingly exhausted or depleted. Nor did the altitude illness that frightens many climbers seem to affect me. My body felt remarkably good. It is genuinely difficult now to say what helped me more: my previous climbing experience or my excellent physical conditioning. It was probably the combination of the two. In any event, I can say with confidence that climbing Elbrus gave me greater optimism and self-belief. The very next day, we all descended to Emmanuel Glade. As soon as we had pitched the tent, we went to a cafe. My boots had to be thrown away after the trip, even though I had repaired their soles with superglue that summer. It must be said that the boots had lasted quite a long time: no fewer than six trips, amounting to more than six hundred kilometres. We then travelled to Dzhily-Su because we wanted to see the local mineral-spring resort. It was the only place in the area with mobile-phone reception.
The mountain resort is best known for its warm mineral springs. Our main goal at the time, however, was to use the mobile signal to contact the outside world. We also needed to learn as much as possible about obtaining food because our supplies had run out completely. The journey to Dzhily-Su took us around an hour, perhaps a little longer. The resort itself turned out to be an ordinary tent camp. We learnt that it was indeed very well known and received many visitors during the season, mostly from the North Caucasus. The landscape truly was extraordinary, without exaggeration: exceptionally beautiful mountains, varied gorges, mountain rivers and waterfalls. Yet the splendour of nature was spoiled by the rudimentary tent-camp conditions and the sheer number of people. There was only one shop, and its selection was far from ideal.
The resort disappointed us somewhat, chiefly because we could not find any proper food. We therefore decided that the following day we would have to look for a car and travel to Kislovodsk. It is worth noting that a journey from Emmanuel Glade to Kislovodsk could be arranged much more cheaply than one in the opposite direction. The next day, however, there were no cars at all, so we had to remain for another day. Our food ran out by morning. The only thing left was a single teabag. On the following day, luck was on our side, and we managed to reach Kislovodsk without incident. My companion and I left first, while the others remained behind to wait for more vehicles.
Kislovodsk gave us a rather unfriendly welcome: it began to rain. We bought all the food we needed and did not leave our accommodation again.
The following day, we all travelled to Pyatigorsk. We managed only a brief look around Kislovodsk.