So tomorrow we go up to the summit of Elbrus. The thought is a little worrying and joyful at the same time: a little longer and the thing I dreamt about for so long will happen. Since we would have to get up early, we tried to go to bed as soon as we could — at six or seven in the evening. Our wake-up was at half past midnight. The weather on Elbrus was superb, which was a pleasure. We set about making breakfast, and boiled some kompot to take with us in a flask. Then we put our crampons on and roped up. As it turned out later, despite the fine weather nobody else was climbing that day, so we were alone with the mountain. It was slightly below freezing, but there was no wind at all. We walked more or less evenly. How we felt was good too. It was dark, so the walking could not be called easy. I heard the clink of metal and saw the light of a head torch: my friend is walking, so all is well. I remember having to be ready at any moment to break through or to arrest.
At about half past four in the morning we were at the lower Lenz Rocks, at four thousand six hundred metres. Very soon the sun will rise and it will be warm. On the rocks the wind unexpectedly started to get up. It blew straight into my face and kept plastering my goggles, and it went on like that for the whole of the climb. That weather brought good moments too: the wind had packed the snow into a crust, so we did not have to walk knee-deep in it. Many other climbers did. We then decided not to go between the ridges of rock but along the right-hand ridge as you move upwards. It was clear by now that we had taken a considerable detour and could have been on the summit much earlier. At the start we walked for twenty minutes and then stopped to rest. And the wind blew into our faces the whole time. It was so strong that at the halts we sometimes had to shelter behind the rocks. In time we changed over to steps and counted them. Walking that way seemed much simpler. But the rock refused to come any closer. It looks as though it is right there, and in fact you still have a long way to walk to it. At times it felt as though you were playing a game called «Reach the Rock». You cover a certain stretch, and then there is more and more of it. I had stopped watching the time. Elbrus is clear, which means you have to keep going. The wind beats into my face without mercy, but I keep following my dream. And now the upper Lenz Rocks. The altitude is five thousand two hundred metres. My breathing is fast. Wind, snow and incredible beauty all around us. We decide to leave our equipment here. We pick up our ice axes and set off towards the eastern summit, and then, if our health allows, we will go over to the western one as well.
Our landmark was a stone, or more precisely a piece of lava, at five thousand five hundred and fifty-nine metres. I have to lean on my ice axe. My breathing is fast and now I feel sleep coming over me… I take a deep breath and wake up. Ten steps later the same thing happens. My companion wakes me. At that point I begin to think of my family and the people close to me, and I understand that I will certainly come back. But first I will certainly reach my goal, and then, of course, come back. My strength really was at its limit. Walking is very hard. It feels as though you have just run an incredible cross-country race. We keep going up, and the stone still refuses to come closer. Snow is falling and the wind blows without mercy. Thoughts turn over in my head that I will definitely come back and that I will be able to reach the summit. Whatever anyone says, you get nowhere in the mountains without a positive frame of mind. So when you are planning a climb, do not forget the psychological preparation alongside the physical.
So my friend and I are walking, or crawling, to put it more accurately. I tell him we should count the steps together; it seems much easier to walk that way. So we count off the first ten steps and pause for a short rest. The rest itself takes this form: you stop, lean on your ice axe, drop your head, and after a while you carry on walking again. Even ten steps at a time becomes hard. In my head thoughts turn over in a jumble: that I must keep going, and that it would be better to give up and turn back. That inner struggle goes on, and it is not an easy one, but the legs keep going in the same direction. And then, quite unexpectedly, we see the crater! We were so happy, and so worn out at the same time, but with the last of our strength we hugged each other. We knew this was success. This is our summit, our goal, which means there is no need to go any higher! The sun greeted us and the wind seemed several times quieter. Then we went to look for the highest point of the crater. Then I see a small cairn. I had come across it in more than one report. This is it — the summit! The altitude is five thousand six hundred and twenty-one metres. We understood clearly that we were very high up. Probably none of us had ever been that high before. But we also understood that the descent was ahead of us. Without gloves the fingers freeze very quickly. So we take our photographs quickly and set off down. We decided to try various ways of descending. All of them were more or less acceptable. How we felt, though, was less encouraging. There was hypoxia and my head felt very heavy. We walked as though drunk, our legs badly tangled. In the end we did manage to reach the place where we had left our equipment. Then we rope up and carry on down. As it turned out, walking on a rope really is not easy: one falls and pulls the other with him. And then at some point I begin to feel that I am dreaming. I take a deep breath and wake up at once. Then we carry on. After a while I fall asleep again and my friend wakes me. He said we had both fallen asleep. But sleeping is out of the question; you have to walk. As we came down we began to realise how far we had managed to go. At one point I understood that I was sick of descending. A wish appeared simply to stop and go to sleep. But you have to keep going. I wake my companion and we carry on like two drunks. We fall over from time to time, then get up and carry on walking, or rather crawling. There was only one thought in my head: when will the descent finally end and we start walking on the level? My strength really was at its limit by then, mental as well as physical. In time we do manage to come out onto the snow-covered glacier, and that is the finishing straight. The wind keeps blowing at our backs as though it were hurrying us along. My legs tangle, crampon catches crampon and I fall. I get up and carry on regardless. And now I can see the glacier. Somebody is walking about on it. I realise there is still a lot of descending to do. That person is moving towards us. It turned out to be the guide we had met. Right there on the glacier she kindly gave us hot, fragrant tea, and we seemed to find a second wind. She then helped us pack the equipment away and offered to carry a rucksack for us. She also made a tasty soup and fed us. It is hard to believe there is no longer any need to descend anywhere. They meet us and congratulate us on a successful climb. And now Nikolai, the Ukrainian guide we knew, comes over. He congratulated us and said that they had walked to the Lenz Rocks. We were back in camp at about half past five in the evening. In the hut we rested and played the guitar. We turned in at about twelve at night. Understanding what we had done did not come at once; it came with time.
So we have been in the mountains six days. We woke because the tent had been pressed down onto the ground. A strong wind is blowing. Slowly we start packing the tent away. Our poles are bent, but not broken after all. We have breakfast and lunch at the same time. Fortunately our appetite was excellent.
And now the guide we knew comes over. As it turned out she had been on a climb and came back completely worn out. She told us she had taken a client down. We gladly gave her hot tea. Then we packed up and started down through the «mushrooms». Mushrooms is the name for the large rocks; the water has undercut their bases a little.
The next day we had a walk to Dzhily-Su, and after that the journey home was planned. There really was an ocean of impressions, so if you have never been to the mountains but very much want to, do follow your dream. It is something everyone should see at least once in a lifetime!