I will not deny that at the time Elbrus had become a kind of impossible dream for me. The word meant a great deal. And once I had a dream, a goal soon followed. About a year before the trip itself I made up my mind that I would do everything possible to climb Elbrus. The thought, and the desire behind it, gave me no peace. I understood, though, that setting off on a climb without a reliable team is simply impossible. Six months before the climb I was lucky enough to join a team of friends who already had experience of trips like this.<\/p>\n\n
I took the only correct decision for myself – to prepare seriously for the climb of Elbrus. The preparation began several months before the trip. It was not only physical but technical, and a matter of information too. I was aware of a simple truth: forewarned is forearmed. So I began looking online for all the information I needed. I remember trying all that time to keep negative thoughts at bay and to stay positive. Deep down, of course, I allowed for the possibility that I might not be able to go to Elbrus with those lads, and I tried to gather as much information about the mountain as I could. I read a great many articles about what acclimatisation is, and I was keen to read climbers‘ reports. I tried to find out about everyone I knew who had ever been there. At the same time I did not forget about my own preparation and regularly went out into the mountains for a day or two. I also went running, ten to twelve kilometres at a time. And then summer came, and with it the peak of the mountain season. At that point, as Elbrus emerged from the clouds, I realised the time was approaching. And then the very thing I had feared most happened: the team leader suddenly rang to say that they were not going to Elbrus but had chosen a different mountain. I was of course very upset, but there was nothing for it but to plan a trip to the mountains on my own. My goal remained what it had been – Elbrus, Elbrus and nothing but Elbrus. At first I thought of joining some group of climbers, but that did not work out. One of the groups told me they were turning me down because my preparation was not sufficient for a trip like that. A little over a month remained, and there was still a great deal to do. Fortunately I had plenty of information about the area, and I decided to find a companion, because I did not want to go alone. My criteria were strict: I needed someone genuinely prepared, both physically and psychologically, with experience of climbing that particular mountain. In the end I found such a person – Yaroslav. I had known him only six months, but he struck me as an experienced and physically fit man. Importantly, we could get on with each other. Without a second thought, I decided to climb with him. And then only a month was left before departure; the tickets had been bought in advance, and all that remained was to pack. A couple of weeks before the trip we did a short acclimatisation in the Pseashkho massif, sleeping at 2600 metres and climbing a mountain 3251 metres high. The last week before departure was especially tense, because I suddenly ran into a mass of unresolved organisational questions with very little time left. At last our rucksacks were packed and we boarded the train. Now nothing could stop us. We had decided not to tell anyone that the two of us were making this journey. The adventure had begun.<\/p>\n\n
On the third of August we arrived at the station in Mineralnye Vody. We were alone in an unfamiliar town, but that did not frighten us, because we understood what it was all for. I had prepared myself in advance for a great many things. We wanted to find direct transport to the village of Terskol, but all our attempts failed. The taxi drivers were asking unrealistic sums, and we decided to use public transport. That is less convenient, of course, but far cheaper. As soon as we turned into the gorge of the river Baksan, the journey became far more interesting. We revelled in the extraordinary beauty; on both sides of the road rose the spurs of the Main Caucasus Range, and the mountains around us grew ever more severe and loomed over us menacingly.<\/p>\n\n
Soon we entered the territory of the National Park. We had covered 200 kilometres in ten hours with three changes. The village lies at 2100-2200 metres, and at last we arrived in Terskol. We decided to stay at a campsite in an unbelievably beautiful spot. The fir grove enchants everyone who comes here. That day the weather was on our side: the daytime temperature was about 20 degrees, dropping a little towards evening. Yet I remember that mountain weather can always surprise a traveller: a sunny day can turn to rain very quickly. That is why it is important to be ready for change.<\/p>\n\n
On the second day our acclimatisation walks to the nearby peaks were due to begin. We got up early, had breakfast and set off for the „Devichyi Kosy“ waterfall, which lies on the south-eastern spur of Elbrus at 2800 metres. A gravel road leads to the waterfall. As soon as we left the forest, views opened up of Mount Cheget and of Azau, which we were planning to climb the following day. Soon, round a bend, we saw the waterfall, its water streaming down the rocks like loose girls‘ braids. At that moment I had an enormous urge to bathe, especially under the burning sun.<\/p>\n\n
At the waterfall we gained a powerful surge of energy. Then we decided to climb up to the observatory at 3100 metres. They would not let us in, of course, but the local guards suggested we should not stop there and should go on to the „Ice Base“, where training for Elbrus climbs was carried out in Soviet times. So we set off for that ice base at 3700 metres. The road was hard going and impossible for a vehicle. Gradually we gained height. From here there was a unique view of the Seremerka glacier, and somewhere in the distance rose Mount Ushba, 4700 metres high, in Georgia. And then, round yet another bend, Elbrus appeared before us in all its glory. I knew it was a big mountain, but I had no idea how big. It really is an incredible sight. We reached the Ice Base and understood why the place is called that. A hundred metres from the ruins of the base lay two glaciers: Terskol and Gara-Bashi. We were enjoying the surrounding scenery when we suddenly noticed dots out on the Terskol glacier.<\/p>\n\n
See the programme:<\/strong> Climbing Elbrus from the south, 9 days<\/a><\/p>\n I will not deny that at the time Elbrus had become a kind of impossible dream for me. The word meant a great deal. And once I had a dream, a goal soon followed. About a year before the trip itself I made up my mind that I would do everything possible to climb Elbrus. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":14084,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-37375","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articles"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n