I will not hide it: like a great many other climbers, I dreamed about Elbrus for years. Why this mountain in particular? Probably because in technical terms it is not very difficult and is within reach even of beginners. And it is the highest point in Europe as well — and telling someone that you made it to the highest point in Europe is, you have to admit, genuinely impressive. So my wish to reach the top of this mountain in particular was a strong one. It was, as the saying goes, a long time coming. My preparation began with working through every scrap of information on the subject. I read a fair number of trip reports and armed myself, as they say, to the teeth. It is worth saying that you should read not one report but several, and the more the better. Every account is one person’s experience, the experience of someone lucky enough to have spent time in the mountains. And, as everyone knows, each body reacts to altitude differently. One person will feel fine at four thousand metres, another will start to suffer at two and a half thousand.
The next step was physical preparation. I admit I read a great deal about how one ought to train for a climb. In the end I settled on something in between. The important thing is that the training you do is something you can live with. What you cannot do is skip it on the grounds that you dislike sport and physical effort — training is how you improve your own chances of a successful climb. So what did my own preparation actually consist of? It included long-distance running and climbing to the top floors of tower blocks. The second of those strikes me as particularly good preparation, because what lies ahead is climbing, not running or jumping. And on each trip up to the top floors it matters that you add weight to your rucksack. It may be hard going now, but it makes things far easier in the mountains later, and you will be thanking yourself for having done it. In training for a climb you are also building your body’s endurance. And preparation for an Elbrus climb must include the mental side as well — the psychological preparation. You need to understand that there will be moments in the mountains when things are genuinely hard. Sometimes you will want to turn round, drop the whole thing and go down. And that is exactly when it matters to remember your dream and the goal you came here for. To get yourself in the right frame of mind, again, you have to read plenty of accounts, watch videos, and then simply close your eyes and picture yourself up there. How does it look? Everything all right? Could you do it? Do you want to take the chance after all? If you genuinely feel you have it in you and want to take the chance, then by all means go and try for the summit of Elbrus.
That was how it felt to me back then — that I had it in me to climb this mountain. I prepared as thoroughly as I could and set off after the dream.
Day one was the meeting at the railway station in Mineralnye Vody. From there we all travelled to the Cheget meadow and checked into one of the local hotels. I have to say I liked the place enormously. And the café did very good food; you could even grill your own shashlik. I also have to mention that the first meeting with the group was a real pleasure. The others all turned out to be first-rate — positive and full of life. At least, that was how they struck me at first glance. And it genuinely matters to have a dependable shoulder next to you, because going into the mountains is always a risk and you never know who will be walking alongside you.
On day two an acclimatisation walk to the observatory was already scheduled, at an altitude of three thousand three hundred metres. Back then the route started from the rescue service building in the village of Terskol. We had to climb a road that wound its way up through the forest in hairpins. We passed handsome crags and a waterfall and came out at the observatory in the end. If you keep going towards the Eastern summit, you can see the Hundred and Fifth Picket in a small col. That is where climbers used to start out from, before there were any cable cars.
On day three an acclimatisation walk up Cheget was scheduled. The mountain’s full name, incidentally, is Azau Gitche Cheget Karabashi. Before the route proper starts there is the option of walking up, or of taking the chairlift to the local café and then on to the weather station. The climb itself runs alongside and then along a rock ridge, which is under snow in winter. If the group is in good shape, it can try for the summit of Maly Donguzorun by the Eastern ridge over Cheget. And that is what we did. In the evening we went back to the hotel.
On day four in the mountains we were due to climb up to the the Priyut 11 huts, above four thousand metres. Early in the morning the whole group set off towards the village of Azau, which is, interestingly, about three kilometres from the Cheget meadow itself. We rode the cable car up to the Mir station at three thousand five hundred metres. From there the route to the huts goes past the Garabashi hut, or the Barrels as climbers themselves often call it. We had to walk strictly by the marker poles, keeping to the left-hand side as we went. The hut itself is a set of insulated cabins on the left-hand rock band, not far from Priyut-11, while the right-hand rock band is the Rescuers’ Rocks. Opposite the hut there is a high-mountain base. As soon as we had eaten and rested a little, we set off upwards to the end of the rock band, to the four thousand four hundred and thirty metre mark. In the evening we all returned to the hut.
Day five at altitude had a climb to the Pastukhov Rocks in store for us. So, early in the morning we put on all the mountaineering kit we needed and set off towards the Pastukhov Rocks with crampons already on. The climb itself runs between two rock bands. Above the four thousand four hundred and thirty metre mark the ascent onto the mountain’s second ice field begins. We carried on by the marker poles. We crossed that ice field. We decided to go round the Pastukhov Rocks themselves, at the four thousand five hundred and fifty metre mark, on the left, climbing onto their rock-and-ice shelf as we did so. That puts you at four thousand six hundred and twenty metres. In summer you can pitch tents here. From the Pastukhov Rocks themselves the climb starts up onto the snow-and-ice shelf of the Eastern summit traverse. Once we had made it up to four thousand eight hundred metres, we decided to go back down to the foot of the rocks and run a round of snow and ice practice there — self-arrest techniques for a slip on ice and on firn, self-belay with an ice axe and with dedicated ice pitons, and a good deal more. In the afternoon the group returned to the hut.
Day six was the scheduled preparation for the climb of Elbrus. Early in the morning we all went out for our second round of snow and ice practice. It is worth pointing out that the slope above the hut is at exactly the same angle as the slope on the summit of Elbrus. We set about practising how to rig fixed lines on different kinds of ground, how to move along them, and how to move together as a roped party on an ice slope. And after lunch we rested before the climb.
The next day brought the climb that mattered most, the thing we had come here for. So, in the night we packed, took everything we needed for the day and set off on the climb by the light of our head torches. The way up to the Pastukhov Rocks was familiar by now. From the rocks themselves you head upwards towards the middle buttress. You have to walk by the marker poles. We tried to observe every necessary precaution as carefully as we could. At five thousand one hundred and twelve metres the traverse of the Eastern summit begins. We carried on along the snow-and-ice shelf towards the rock tooth. We set about going round the tooth from above. Once past that rock tooth, the traverse of the Eastern summit runs to the right. That is the five thousand three hundred and eighty metre mark. Then, keeping to the flank of the Eastern summit, we dropped down to the mountain’s saddle. We carried on by the marker poles. After that a fairly steep climb starts towards the South-Western summit. Rather than going up to it, we decided to traverse right across the rock ridge in the upper part of the slope. That brought us out onto the shoulder of the South-Western summit. From the start of the rock ridge to the point where you come out onto the shoulder we rigged fixed lines and belayed carefully. Below the rock buttress you can make out a hut. That could be our shelter in bad weather. So: five thousand six hundred metres. The Western summit stays on the left, and we carry on towards the Western summit, which is roughly five hundred metres west of us. We walk by the marker poles. And so, a short rise, and there we are at the five thousand six hundred and forty-two metre mark. We descended by our line of ascent. Towards evening we got back to the hut.
On day eight we were already heading home. We had breakfast in the morning and started walking down to the Mir station. We took the cable car down to the village of Azau and went back to the café. That day was given over entirely to rest.