Trying to Climb Elbrus Unguided. Part Two

The first cable-car station kept drawing closer and closer. Soon the next station was clearly in sight as well. A little further on, at three thousand five hundred and thirty metres, there was an excellent spot for a camp: a flat platform and a small stream running straight out of a snowdrift. But since the Barrels were not far off by then, we decided to reach them that day. At four in the afternoon we were lucky enough to be at the Barrels – three thousand seven hundred and thirty metres. The whole walk from Terskol came to ten kilometres, including one thousand six hundred metres of ascent in eight hours and thirty minutes. That counts as pretty good going for this kind of Elbrus ascent with full packs. Whatever anyone says, poles give you an enormous advantage in terms of pace. That saves both energy and time. We found a place to camp near the track. Since we had arrived fairly early, we had our pick of a comfortable pitch. By evening a couple more tents had appeared. I noticed that there are toilets in some places here, one of them not far from our pitch. Everyone has their own tactics. Some people live permanently at the Barrels and make acclimatisation trips above them. Others travel up exclusively by snowcat, and there really are plenty of those here.  And then there is the second cable-car station. Down at the bottom lies the Baksan gorge. Collecting water near the Barrels is genuinely very convenient: there is a dedicated pipe, so you can fill any container easily. Higher up, near Priyut 11, you already have to scoop water with a mug from an ordinary puddle of meltwater.[BR]A distinctly unpleasant surprise was waiting for me at the Barrels: my head suddenly started aching. I had read online that if your blood pressure is high you should not go up. But I had hoped that mine was not that critical. And so a splitting headache simply wore me down. My heart was pounding, and at times it felt as though it would leap out of my chest. I also could not get to sleep, however hard I tried. I had gone to bed straight after supper, some time after seven in the evening.[BR]There was one other thing I got wrong. For some reason I was convinced I would be fine without a hat. But the sun was so strong that it burned the back of my head. I bitterly regretted not bringing a hat. So if you are heading into the mountains, do take a hat with you, and sunscreen, sunglasses and lip balm as well. None of this is a whim; it is genuine protection for your body against harmful solar radiation. None of it is heavy, so it certainly will not be a burden on the way – quite the opposite, it will come in useful.[BR]At that altitude it gets cold very quickly indeed. At seven in the evening the air temperature was about nineteen degrees, and an hour later it was already ten. The sun sets at around half past eight in the evening, but it disappeared behind the mountains much earlier than that. And it immediately turned chilly. My pulse was ninety-six and my head ached fiercely with the pain. I wanted to check the forecast, so I tried to use the mobile network. It did not work. The only thing that came through was a message saying that the forecast was good. Over the whole day we covered about ten kilometres, gaining height from two thousand one hundred and twenty metres to three thousand seven hundred and twenty metres.[BR]And so it was our third day in the mountains. We all woke at half past six. The temperature in the tent was about two degrees, but the water had not frozen. My head would not stop splitting. My friend, on the other hand, was perfectly fine. We managed to collect some icy water and boiled up some tea. In the morning, among other things, a north wind starts to build, which makes life hard for the stove. The gas canister was completely covered in frost, and I even warmed it with my hands. There was no windbreak of any kind. My friend built a small wall out of stones and I shielded the stove with my body. In the end two canisters lasted us four nights. So it is fair to say that one canister is quite enough for ten litres of boiled water. I have to say we really were very lucky, because the weather was superb – warm, in fact. By nine in the morning the sun is blazing and streams start running at the level of the Barrels. That is probably the best time to set off, since getting from the Barrels to Priyut 11 is no problem by then. We packed up our tent quickly and at nine in the morning set off along the track towards Priyut 11. At three thousand eight hundred and thirty metres the track ended and there was nothing but snow. I should note that the snow really is very firm in the morning, so walking on it is a genuine pleasure. Traversing across, we soon joined a small snow track running from the Barrels towards Priyut 11. Snowcats use this track constantly, and groups of walkers use it too. We could of course have taken this easier track from the start, but getting to the beginning of it from our pitch is awkward. Coming back down it is genuinely comfortable, though, and you can slide down on your boots. I found the walking really hard going. I kept hanging on my poles and resting. Livelier walkers overtook me again and again, while I do not think I caught up with anyone. By around twelve o’clock I had managed those four hundred metres. Then we started looking for a more or less suitable pitch for our tent. So there we were at three thousand five hundred metres. In general it is possible to camp here. From four thousand metres upwards, in the direction of the eastern summit, two rock ribs run parallel to each other. On the left rib are the remains of Priyut 11. There are also various paid wooden platforms here, and cabins to sleep in. That is where the well-off visitors stay. Everyone else pitches their tent straight onto the snow. On the right-hand rib is the rescue service post. They have a couple of cabins and a fairly large area fenced off with red netting, which is the most comfortable ground for pitching tents.