I have wanted to stand on the summit of Elbrus for a long time. And I did not simply sit and dream about it; I made attempts to make the dream real. There have been four such attempts in all. Even if the dream is still out of reach, the important thing is that the dream exists, and that really does matter. I can say with confidence that I love Elbrus itself very much. It sometimes happens that you find yourself somewhere and simply fall in love with the place. What I want to tell you about now is my May holiday in the mountains.
Elbrus itself is an ancient volcano covered by glaciers. Signs of its activity can still appear even now: there are a good many working thermal springs in the area around it, and hydrogen sulphide is released from time to time. That is a volcanic gas with a distinctive smell, which you notice particularly in summer and on sunny days. Elbrus is a place people make a pilgrimage to. They are all sorts of people, some keen on sport and some not. Mountaineers, mountain trekkers, skiers and snowboarders all love coming here. Since Elbrus is considered the highest point in Europe, climbing it counts as part of the Seven Summits programme, and that draws climbers from all over the world. During our stay there, five foreign groups went up the mountain.
Packing did not take us long. We were able to leave at the end of May. Five climbers arranged themselves and their rucksacks and a week’s food more or less compactly. We got away at about two in the afternoon, or even slightly earlier, and by eleven at night we were on the Azau meadow. We spent the night there and in the morning took the cable car up to the second stage, the Mir station, which stands at three thousand five hundred metres. Then we walked up with our rucksacks towards Garabashi — which is what the Barrels are properly called. The high-altitude Barrels hut stands on the flank of Elbrus. This is where visitors can acclimatise before a climb, and it is also a place to rest after coming down from Elbrus, at three thousand eight hundred metres. A sort of hotel for being alone with nature.
So we settled in happily, had a quick meal and talked to the people we knew there. Once we had all been introduced, we set off towards Priyut 11. That place is considered legendary and one of the highest in the world. The hut stands on the south-eastern flank of Elbrus at four thousand two hundred metres. It burnt down in nineteen ninety-eight, and the high-altitude hotel had been built back in nineteen thirty-nine. It burnt because fire safety rules were not observed. In terms of comfort, the hut was like a high-class hotel in a big city. Climbers themselves often called it nothing other than the Hotel Above the Clouds. There is a hut on the site now as well, put up where the old diesel station stood. So, along a track marked by snowcat tracks, we were able to reach the hut. We sat there happily and admired the view.
As for acclimatisation, it means climbing the flank of the mountain to a planned height in order to train the body to cope better with the effects of altitude. Anyone who has been on Elbrus will understand exactly what I mean. It is a genuinely boundless space that both intoxicates you and gives you wings. In the face of the power of the Caucasus mountains, every problem seems petty and not worth much attention. It is a kind of euphoria and a rush of happiness. It is worth coming at least once and being alone with nature. The mountains are a place where a person can answer for himself. Here you really do begin to look at your own life soberly. Some Americans were put in with us then, and they turned out to be genuinely interesting people. They even knew a few words of Russian. I hardly speak any foreign languages, though, so I felt a little awkward. All I could do was smile as widely as possible. We noticed that they were eating rather badly, so we offered to feed them some soup. They did not refuse, and were even very grateful for the hospitality.
In the evening and again in the morning half of our group deteriorated noticeably. It was clear that these were the first approaches of that same altitude sickness. Pills and another walk helped then. High-altitude illness means a morbid condition caused by oxygen starvation as the pressure of oxygen in the air you breathe falls. It can arise when you are high in the mountains. One form of high-altitude illness is mountain sickness. It can also be brought on by exhaustion, cold, dehydration of the body, severe weather and sharp changes in temperature. The main factor in mountain sickness, though, is hypoxia. In their own slang, climbers often call it «gornyashka». There is, of course, a way of preventing it: getting the body used to hypobaric hypoxia — in other words, acclimatisation.
The next day the weather was much worse. Even so we decided to go out and acclimatise. We set off towards the Pastukhov Rocks at four thousand six hundred metres. Not everyone managed to get there. Our American friends soon went back down.
We decided to give the whole of the next day to resting. We badly wanted to ski and snowboard. But two days of good weather had turned to bad: cloud hung over the mountain the whole time, snow was falling and the wind was blowing. Even so we managed a little skiing. On the whole I would say that Elbrus, for me personally, is the mountain of meetings. Every time I go to Elbrus I run into people I know. It really is remarkable, because in town you sometimes do not meet that many people in a year. This time was the same again: old friends arrived whom I had probably not seen in a thousand years. There was a great deal of talk, and much of it was new to me. And there were plenty of memories. The summit attempt was set for the morning. Since I had not been put on the list of climbers, I carried on sleeping in my sleeping bag. Our friends woke at two in the morning and started getting ready. I woke at six in the morning. Outside the window snow kept plastering itself against the glass. I understood that this was bad and that the others would obviously have to turn back. And once again I had to sink into the snow. At about eight they were back. They decided to have breakfast and go down.
So our team is ready to descend. At the Mir station we had to wait half an hour for the cable car to be switched on. As it turned out, it was snowing down below as well. So we got into the car and set off towards Cheget and the local cafés. And from there back to our home town.