I dreamed about climbing Elbrus for a very long time, and it just so happened that only now did I plan a trip to the mountains. I admit that for years I had done my best to keep in shape, that is, to stay within the weight that had become normal for me. At the very least the extra kilos should not go over ten. From time to time I went on walking trips of various kinds. Now and then I took part in active games, and at one of them I even got to know a mountaineering instructor. He struck me as a very good and welcoming man. Nothing in his appearance suggested his genuinely serious standing, and this in a line of work that is truly hard and demanding. In time I got to know other gurus of the sport as well, and I understood that big muscles and very athletic figures are not what they are about. The more muscle you have, the more weight you have to drag up.
So in time we got to know one another and got talking. I was lucky enough to be invited to a mountaineering training camp, the kind all beginners are taken to. The camp was planned for a spot near a mountain with the wonderful name of Sofia, in the Caucasus, not far from Arkhyz. In the short May holidays there really was a great deal that was new and interesting, but let us not dwell on the details. The main thing is that the first real mountain had been climbed! That was when I received my first official mountaineering grade and was even awarded a badge and some paperwork.
One evening we all got together to mark the successful climb. That was when the instructor began talking about the Elbrus climb that was coming up, and he suggested I join the group. There were only a couple of months to prepare in. But whatever happened, I did not want to turn down such a remarkable chance to try to climb Elbrus with real professionals.
I wanted to learn as much as I could about this extraordinary mountain, and I read a great deal about Elbrus online. It said that this is not only the highest point in the whole of Europe but a genuine killer mountain. Every year a good many people die on Elbrus, and the reasons for the tragedies vary. There are no official statistics; the unofficial ones say that every 60th climber dies on the mountain’s slopes.
We decided to go up from the north, although every sensible person does the south side first. The reason is that the southern route has a cable car, which takes you up to three thousand eight hundred metres. The Barrels huts are already there, and a snowcat will take anyone who wants it up to Priyut 11. If the weather is reasonably kind, they may well take you a little higher. After that the only way is up, towards the western summit, whose height is five thousand six hundred and forty-two metres. So we go up quietly from the north. The country around you is astonishing in its wildness, and there is nothing on the slope at all. It is worth pointing out that the whole route has to be walked on your own legs from the very bottom to the very top. Ahead of you are a good many crevasses two hundred metres deep, glaciers that can only be crossed in crampons, and the Lenz Rocks, which stretch over seven hundred metres of height. At the very end of the route the eastern summit of the giant that is Elbrus awaits you. It is worth pointing out that whichever side you come from, at three thousand metres that dreaded altitude sickness will catch up with you. Let us be blunt: the body does not react well to the lack of oxygen in the air or to the change in pressure. What are the symptoms of altitude sickness? How will the body react to it? The symptoms can be different in every person, from an ordinary headache to loss of co-ordination. Some sufferers even hallucinate. To keep those reactions to a minimum, experienced climbers try to go through what is called acclimatisation before the climb itself. In other words, the body has to get used to the mountains and to that kind of effort, and adapt to altitude. Acclimatisation means spending several days at middle altitudes. After that comes a climb of a thousand metres and a descent of five hundred, then another climb and another descent. In this way the climber gradually works their way up to the high camp, where everything really begins. The climb to the summit starts from that camp. The body gets used to being at altitude and stops reacting so violently, so the climber may feel nothing bad about the ascent at all. The one thing that may trouble them is a slight headache.
So now I understood where I was going, and I decided to start preparing, and to do it seriously. My first run ended before it should have done, and I felt completely wrecked. I could hardly be pleased with a result like that, particularly since I used to be able to run that sort of distance easily and without thinking about it. Never mind, that is no reason to give up. All it needs is a little training and everything will be back to normal. So my daily training began, and within two weeks my result was much better. I could run five kilometres without any trouble.
I remember that when I took the very important decision to give up smoking, there were only a couple of months left before we were due to leave. From that day on I began to fight my bad habit with willpower and sport. My days at that time went roughly like this: one day a run of five to ten kilometres, the next day the gym. I had one rest day in the week. At weekends I went out into the mountains or the foothills, and every new outing became easier and more interesting than the last. I spent the final weekend before leaving for the climb on Mount Oshten, at two thousand eight hundred and four metres.
And then at last the day of my departure. The rucksack was fully packed, and packed for a ten-day expedition. I weighed it and it came to thirty-six kilograms, and that was without water. Never mind: the main thing here is to reach base camp. I had to change twice on the way before I finally found myself in the Elbrus region. We had decided to put base camp near the Emmanuel meadow, a place that can fairly be called historic. It was from here, in eighteen twenty-nine, that the expedition led by Emmanuel made the first ascent of Elbrus. Base camp itself is at two thousand four hundred metres. It is a genuinely beautiful place, lovely to look at, with a narzan mineral spring nearby. The weather was simply magnificent. Fifteen of us came to base camp in all, of whom about eight wanted to reach the summit of Elbrus. The rest simply wanted a break and the beauty of the mountains. Two people on our expedition held mountaineering instructor’s papers, which was of course a comfort.
We were lucky enough to get up at about eight in the morning. Our team leader gave the order to pack, and we had to be away by nine. The plan for that day was to climb to three thousand eight hundred metres, towards the rescue service base. It was a relief that the rucksacks were light: we had a little food, water and a jacket with us. We left as a full group. We walked for a very long time, because some of us had overestimated what we could do and nobody was allowed to break away from the team. At about the halfway point a fairly thick fog came down on us, and a light drizzle began as well. Our instructor even wanted to turn back, but we managed to talk him out of it. In the end he decided to let the keener group go on with an instructor. We arrived at the rescue base soaking wet. I have to say that we were not cold at all at that point. We were given a very warm welcome, and we drank hot, fragrant tea with real pleasure. Tea had never before seemed so delicious or so warming. Many thanks to our lads.