After taking our time to pack and visiting a viewpoint above the lake itself, we began a leisurely climb towards the wonderfully named Syltran Pass. The difference in height was not particularly large, so the ascent did not prove excessively tiring. Instead, it brought us a great deal of joy. The views from up there were genuinely impressive, and the landscape seemed almost unreal. Moments like that make you realise that you did not come all this way by chance. After a short rest on the pass, we continued down into the valley of the Kyrtyk River, which was also our route back. For many of us, the descent was genuinely difficult. In the mountains, descending can sometimes be far harder than climbing. Some sections were exceptionally steep, so we placed every step with great care. After a while, we were fortunate enough to reach the new valley. There we decided to establish camp at about three thousand and fifty metres and take a half-day rest with a short out-and-back walk.
We chose one of the ridges as the destination for that mountain outing. The climb was certainly steep, but at least it was short. Eventually we reached the crest. It was extraordinarily beautiful, and not one of us had the slightest desire to go back down. We spent about two hours up there, admiring the remarkable panorama of Elbrus and the nearby mountains. Towards evening, we finally returned to camp.
In the morning we all went for a short walk and happily spent some time in the sun, which the weather was kind enough to allow. We then broke camp quickly and headed down the valley towards Verkhny Baksan. We gradually lost height while enjoying the views around us. That night we camped at an altitude of two thousand three hundred metres. I remember that we managed to gather plenty of firewood and enjoyed a long evening around the campfire.
On the final day of the trek we could not afford to linger, because a busy programme lay ahead, so we decided to set off as early as possible. A few hours later we reached the village, had a light snack and were soon met by our driver. We first travelled to the village of Elbrus, where we bought all the food we needed for the climb from a local shop. We then headed to the turning for Cheget Glade and hired the equipment we were missing from one of the rental shops there. Local guides told us that ice had become exposed on the Western Summit, making specialist equipment necessary for crossing a hazardous section, so we needed to take that gear with us as well. Renting was not especially cheap, but it gave us access to everything required for the ascent. Buying the equipment would have cost many times more, so if you are unsure whether you will continue climbing mountains in future, hiring it may be the more practical option. Our driver waited as long as necessary before taking us to the settlement with the poetic name of Azau, described as the highest point in the valley. This is where the cable cars up Elbrus begin. The spirit of Elbrus seems to be everywhere here — in the names and in the souvenirs. You might say that the settlement forms part of the mountain itself and even exists because of it. We had what we called our farewell lunch there, and it almost kept us below longer than planned. The cable car closed at four in the afternoon, and we remained at lunch until around four. In about twenty minutes we were fortunate enough to rise from two thousand three hundred metres to three thousand five hundred metres. It was much cooler and fresher there. We could have continued by chairlift towards the Barrels at three thousand eight hundred metres, but chose to walk for better training. We spent the night at three thousand eight hundred metres, having found an excellent place for the tents on a rocky ridge beside the road. Curiously, something always seemed to be under construction there, and large lorries passed by frequently.