Half the view was blocked, and my chair kept swaying as we rode. It was also very interesting to watch the visitors being led about by a guide who kept telling them to look this way and that, at the snow and at something else. After that we had to walk towards Priyut 11, where people usually make camp. We stopped there for the night and cooked a communal meal. I decided to try myself as a cook, and the soup did turn out excellent. A small stream ran not far from our camp. It was so beautiful it was a genuine delight. You fetch water and cook away happily. But as soon as we decided to fill our bottles there, the neighbouring tent told us that somebody had urinated there not long before. In the end the others had to go off goodness knows where to melt snow. And the altitude here was a serious one, four thousand one hundred metres. Until you are used to it, every step comes hard, with a real effort. On top of that it is very hot. After the meal we all lay down to sleep. The wake-up was to be at half past midnight. We had to get up that early so as to walk in the cool and on firm snow. It really is much easier than walking in the heat through slush.<\/p>\n\n
Climbing Elbrus with our guides<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n\n Early in the morning nobody was in much of a mood, because nobody had slept enough. None of us is used to going to bed that early. Nikolai had not slept at all the night before. And I had a very bad headache, though I do not know why. It might have been the altitude, or it might have been sleeping in an awkward position. So we had breakfast, drank tea and set out at about two in the morning. We decided to take only one rucksack with us, with warm clothes, a first-aid kit and water in it. The others carried it in turn. We set out among the first. We had to walk with poles and in crampons \u2014 although two of the party managed without crampons, and one did not even need poles. The walking went quite well. The crampons held very nicely on the hard snow. In the pitch dark there was no seeing where to go. A good many people were walking behind us. As for me, I started feeling short of oxygen very early, before we even reached the Pastukhov Rocks, and I began to drop behind. Everyone else was walking along very briskly. It gets colder and colder. We have to stop.<\/p>\n\n We had set out first, but before long a snowcat overtook us with foreign visitors aboard \u2014 and not just one snowcat either. It even got to the point where you are walking along, bothering nobody, and someone starts hooting at you to move aside. As far as I understand it, all those visitors were being driven up to the Pastukhov Rocks themselves, or perhaps higher. It hardly matters. We overtook them anyway \u2014 three times, in fact. A little later it began to get light. The sight is extraordinary. For me personally the view from the southern flank is far lovelier than the one from the summit. You can even see Ushba. It was clear the whole time and kept drawing you towards it. Everyone was walking more or less normally. But Nikolai, with that bulky rucksack, began to feel genuinely bad. Asked what had happened, he answered that he had simply run out of energy. Very soon it became clear that he would definitely go no further. That frightened me badly, because he simply lay down on the ground and curled up. And none of us wanted to turn back, since we had decided that we would walk the whole way together, however slowly anyone was going. Nikolai, though, decided to go down alone. It really was frightening to let him go on his own. But a whole line of climbers was coming up behind us. We were slightly shocked, because Nikolai was the only one of us who had been in the mountains before. Never mind: the main thing is that it turned out all right. After that came a very long climb. We set out at two in the morning and were on the western summit at eight o’clock. We were on the move for about six hours. Patience is the main thing a climb needs. At the saddle we had a chance to rest a little. One of our party filmed a short video and we carried on. The altitude was affecting Valera in a very interesting way: he was swaying from side to side. It is a genuine irony of fate, since he is the one who does not drink at all. The mountain played its own mean trick as well. You climb upwards and it seems that a little more and it will be over. But it is not as simple as you would like: you crawl up and it turns out that the finish is still a very long way off. Towards the end everyone was tired, whereas I, on the contrary, seemed to be getting used to the shortage of oxygen. So I walked and walked. The main thing is to keep going forward. In the end we were all on the summit among the first. It was hard to believe that we had done it \u2014 and not simply among the first: we had time to take some excellent photographs. Then we started slowly down. And only after that did we see a person coming up towards us.<\/p>\n\n It was, of course, complete delight and euphoria \u2014 and that although it felt as though my lungs really were running in neutral. At first I could not believe that we had actually got up there. I understand it now; at the time the feelings were different. I can now say with confidence that there is nothing worse than the descent. First of all, the sun began to beat down mercilessly. Besides, the whole descent lasted a good three hours. And even wearing glasses I managed to burn my eyes, and my glasses had third-category protection. The protection did not save me. So I walked along squinting. My eyes stung badly. And the light there does not come only from above; it is reflected off the snow as well. At about eleven o’clock we were back in camp. Under our feet the snow had turned to genuine porridge. We were amazed at all the people who were only just starting up. How good it is to come back \u2014 especially when someone is waiting for you! Our fellow countrymen, whom we had become friends with, met us gladly, with open arms, as the saying goes. They gave us tea and would not let us into the tent until we had told them everything in the smallest detail. Simply wonderful people. Nikolai was feeling much better by then. Once he was back in camp he had been able to sleep it off. The same could not be said for us. As soon as we had drunk a cup of tea we collapsed into the tent, which was standing in the full glare of the sun. At three in the afternoon we started down towards the lifts, before they closed. We really did want to get to Kislovodsk, and the others wanted to go home. In closing, let me say that when the wish is strong enough, a great deal is within your powers. What matters is to want it and to go towards your goal whatever happens, even if someone is against it. Remember that this is your life and you live it yourself, without anyone else’s help. Beyond that, I should add that it is not as hard as it may seem at first glance. At least, looking back on it now, I cannot say that it was very hard for me. What matters is the preparation beforehand and a firm certainty that you need it. There has to be a goal. Without a goal, climbing to a summit is not easy. And when there is a goal and there is preparation, it will always work out! On the whole I am very pleased with the climb. I am glad that I dared to do it, and I do not regret it for a moment!<\/p>\n\n <\/u><\/em><\/p>\n\n <\/u><\/em><\/p>\n\n See the programme:<\/strong> Climbing Elbrus from the south with oxygen<\/a><\/p>\n Half the view was blocked, and my chair kept swaying as we rode. It was also very interesting to watch the visitors being led about by a guide who kept telling them to look this way and that, at the snow and at something else. After that we had to walk towards Priyut 11, where […]<\/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-37405","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articles"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nWhat to read next<\/h2>\n