{"id":37339,"date":"2015-06-08T08:48:21","date_gmt":"2015-06-08T05:48:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mountainguides.pro\/?p=37339"},"modified":"2026-09-10T16:10:14","modified_gmt":"2026-09-10T13:10:14","slug":"elbrus-expedition-east-summit-from-the-north","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mountainguides.pro\/ar\/2015\/06\/08\/elbrus-expedition-east-summit-from-the-north\/","title":{"rendered":"An Elbrus expedition, or how I got to the summit of Elbrus from the north in July."},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Climb<\/a><\/figure>\n\n

The Elbrus adventure began in the most ordinary way imaginable. We flew in, were met at the airport, checked in, rested a little and set off the next morning, on 10 July, for our first acclimatisation walk.<\/p>\n\n

That was where the first shock came, in the best sense of the word. The views were extraordinary and impossible to look away from; the surrounding mountains drew you in like a magnet, the Narzan valley gave me a catch under the ribs, and the sight of Elbrus took my breath away. Fantastic.<\/p>\n\n

Base camp was at Silver Stream. Getting up to it meant a climb of a full two and a half kilometres. Not an easy undertaking, especially for an untrained body. But we were lucky. It was dry, so the climb took a mere 5 hours.<\/p>\n\n

We already knew the itinerary for the expedition up Elbrus from the north<\/a>, so we saved a little time by skipping the introductions. Here it is in brief:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    \n
  1. From our camp to the hut is a little over a kilometre of climbing, but that already puts you at 3750 above sea level.<\/li>\n\n
  2. From the hut to the Lenz Rocks is less again, a kilometre and 50 metres, but the altitude is 4800 above sea level. Then back down again.<\/li>\n\n
  3. The last item is the eastern summit of Elbrus. From our hut it is an eternity away – 1870 metres.<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n\n

    Our first excursion was to Dzhily-Su, a tract of land with mineral springs. It was a sightseeing trip, so it did not take too long. We got there over the stone Kalinov Bridge thrown across a fast-flowing river. The entertainment consisted of bathing in the narzan springs and blissing out to the noise of the Sultan, a waterfall in those parts.<\/p>\n\n

    We were dog-tired, to be honest. But we were pleased with the excursion. We got back to where we had started and had a filling, tasty dinner. Our guide took excellent care of that. We were always well fed, and we got vitamins too, and even some French red – to top up the body’s iron, we were told. It all ran so smoothly that we hardly noticed dinner ending. After that we collapsed happily into bed and did not notice morning arriving.<\/p>\n\n

    11 July brought new adventures. Now we were heading for the Mushroom Glade, at almost 3.5 kilometres above sea level. After a little thought we decided to take our guide’s advice and go higher, up to the next campsite (3.7 km), hauling some of our kit, food and equipment up there at the same time. We would pass the Mushroom Glade on the way back.<\/p>\n\n

    Those 1200 metres took us a full 4 hours. There is no getting away from it, the altitude is distinctly noticeable here, and there is an excellent view of Elbrus, incidentally. At almost 3 km we stumbled across a secret airfield, built by the Germans long ago.<\/p>\n\n

    Rolling back down was easier. We looked over the mushrooms fairly quickly, but they made a strong impression. Our guide gave us a laugh too – he cut quite a picture on the mountain path with a barrel on his back, like some shepherd in the mountains of Tibet or Nepal.<\/p>\n\n

    When we got to the hut, we had a think. Breathing at altitude is hard work. The body labours. We had acclimatised as far as 2.5 km, so what next? According to the itinerary, we still had three more altitudes to face. We had faced one of them today. We came back wrung out, but alive. So there was a chance we would acclimatise at the higher points too.<\/p>\n\n

    What I really did not want was for the ascent to fall through, and that means 5621 m above sea level – the eastern summit of Elbrus. But the doubts kept smouldering. Above all I did not want to be laid out flat after every stage of the expedition.<\/p>\n\n

    Our guide Sasha said quite clearly, though, that this would not happen. And he kept his promise. His one requirement was that we do exactly as he said, without argument. And we did. We crawled up the mountain slowly and doggedly, like pack donkeys. Meanwhile the world around us whispered: “You shouldn’t have started this, lad. These mountains will squash you like a beetle.” And Elbrus bore down on you with its beauty and its scale, giving you no time to recover. Thanks to our guide, I lived.<\/p>\n\n

    We reached the hut on the northern slope of Elbrus. It is quite comfortable there. You can rest and get something to eat. A pair of cats lived there too, so brazen that they were allowed absolutely anything. Hardly surprising: people go feral quickly up here, so having something warm, furry and alive to cuddle is more than welcome. The cats take full advantage. They are not even cats yet but adolescent kittens, cheeky and affectionate.<\/p>\n\n

    Now it is 13 July. We seem to have acclimatised. Next comes a foray to the Lenz Rocks. We crawl slowly upwards. Sometimes the thought comes that you must be mad, climbing a mountain like this without even ordinary athletic training behind you. But there is no getting rid of stubbornness, so we keep going. At last, the 4750 mark. We are gradually acclimatising. One of our companions, the youngest of us, has only now understood what altitude means. Climbing Elbrus from the north<\/a> stopped looking like an easy task.<\/p>\n\n

    Our guide, bless him, never abandoned us and always kept our spirits up. So we felt, if not behind a wall of stone, then at least behind one of brick. What is remarkable is that he is so easy to talk to that you would never guess mountain summits fall to him.<\/p>\n\n

    The ascent of the eastern summit was planned for 15 July, and on the 14th we rested. But Elbrus decided to play a joke on us. The wind blew, snow was plastered against everything, and fog completed the dismal picture. We sat in the hut studying every scrap of paper we could find, but those ran out fairly quickly. Then everyone switched their attention to the cats. A couple of hours later the cats made themselves scarce, unable to bear the weight of our attention.<\/p>\n\n

    Having given up hope of finding the cats, we settled down to a game of cards. We played our fill, and then that too palled. Having rested so thoroughly all day that we no longer knew what to do with ourselves, we decided to check conditions during the night. Little had changed: wind, snow, howling. We went back, ate again, drank tea, and fell asleep again.<\/p>\n\n

    On the 15th the whole party began quietly going stir-crazy from idleness. Another group was already on its way up, and here we were still sitting in the hut. We got the skis out and tried to crawl uphill on them. But Elbrus was not giving in, burying us in snow and doing its best to blow us away. Everyone was downcast. Nobody wanted to leave empty-handed, but what could we do?<\/p>\n\n

    Shortly before sunset the weather suddenly cleared and Elbrus appeared. Everyone, myself included, perked up and started bustling about. It was decided to set off for the summit during the night, while the weather held.<\/p>\n\n

    By the time we were packed it was past midnight. At 2 in the morning we chewed our way through porridge with condensed milk, followed by raisins, dried apricots and nuts, and the guide stuffed us with vitamins and something else besides. We set off for the summit at half past three.<\/p>\n\n

    And here are the Lenz Rocks. Six fifteen in the morning, the sun is up, the wind blows without a break, but at least there is no snow. Two of our companions turned back, feeling ill. That is what climbing Elbrus from the north is like. The mountains do not welcome everyone with open arms. But those they do welcome go all the way. The remains of our heroic team turned out to be among them.<\/p>\n\n

    Although the summits were sealed in cloud, we decided to press on up.<\/p>\n\n

    The upper edge of the Lenz Rocks is at the 5300 mark. Not bad at all. All of us got there. And then, as if by magic, every cloud was blown away. We decided to eat something, since the porridge had long since been digested and our stomachs were rumbling treacherously. There is not much to eat up there, so it was nuts and dried fruit, a swig of hot tea with chocolate, and then we all crawled slowly on up the mountain.<\/p>\n\n

    Halfway up the cap of Elbrus’s eastern summit we caught sight of the western summit. The view is stunning; it takes your breath away in no uncertain terms. And there are people milling about, some crawling up, some coming happily down. We counted three groups climbing Elbrus from the south – it was practically a pedestrian highway.<\/p>\n\n

    Everyone crawls up in clusters but comes down separately. Sometimes someone is knocked sideways by the high-altitude air and starts behaving oddly. In front of our eyes one chap set off in completely the wrong direction. Then he came to his senses and saw he had wandered somewhere else entirely. He had to climb all the way back up to the saddle.<\/p>\n\n

    Meanwhile we carried on up Elbrus with our guide. Two hours, and the summit still towers in front of you, unreachable and majestic. At last we found ourselves right beneath the rock. Ahead lies only the home straight – and what a home straight. Nobody had much strength left.<\/p>\n\n

    When I looked out from behind the rock, I felt such a blow to the chest that I fell over. It was the wind, strong enough to knock over an exhausted team. But to give up at the decisive moment? Not a chance. We gathered every last bit of strength and tried again to move out from behind the rock towards the summit of Elbrus. And we made it.<\/p>\n\n

    At that point everyone let rip. On the eastern summit of Elbrus<\/a> we took photographs and shot video. It was just as well we had kept all the batteries close to our bodies, or they would have gone flat long before.<\/p>\n\n

    The view from the summit of Elbrus is overwhelming. We looked at it and could not believe we had done it. Getting up Elbrus is really something. Your whole body is one solid lump of tiredness, but you do not feel it, and you are bursting with pride that it is you standing there. Above you there is nothing but sky, clear and piercingly blue, and all the clouds are down below, tearing past like a train at furious speed.<\/p>\n\n

    The way down took us a mere two and a half hours. We slept like the dead in the hut. As we went in, we heard a wild howling: the weather had asserted itself and unleashed everything it had on us. The hut boomed and rattled, and we slept through it.<\/p>\n\n

    In the morning it turned out that everything around us was under a thick layer of snow. We descended over a white blanket while a blizzard raged around us.<\/p>\n\n

    At last we reached camp. They were expecting us. The guide gave orders that we be fed well and tastily, and so we were. We each got a glass of brandy, and there was beer as well. We relaxed in earnest.<\/p>\n\n

    What can I say about our – my – programme? Fantastic, hard, brilliant. Our guide Sasha is a master of his craft, and he deserves a special mention and enormous thanks for his constant support.<\/p>\n\n

    I think I will come back to Elbrus. Only next time the programme will be different – I want to climb the western summit of Elbrus from the south. I think it will be fantastic.<\/p>\n\n

    It really is true that once you have been in the mountains, you want to go back.<\/p>\n\n

    \n

    What to look at next<\/h2>\n

    See the programme:<\/strong> Climbing Elbrus from the north<\/a><\/p>\n