Chapter 5 - "Stop! Stop! Military Polizei!" - Midsummer on the slopes of Mt. Elbrus
We settle into the Barrels and make ready for a summit attempt. My exotic background makes new friends while fending off hypothermia.
Midsummer’s eve at 4000m
Azau Valley, Russia. Wednesday, June 21, 2006.
Today was our first day on the slopes of Father Elbrus.
Early in the morning, we took the cable cars to Mir Station at 3500m. I can honestly say that so far I’ve been much more scared of the cable cars and chairlifts than anything else. On the way up in one of the cars, I noticed that a couple of the electric cables were just taped together. Not very encouraging.
From Mir Station, we took a chairlift to the Barrels at 3800m. The Barrels are literally gigantic metal barrels. This is where we will be staying from Thursday until we finish the climb. For more acclimatisation, we climbed further up the slopes to Diesel Hut at 4050m. The views were absolutely stunning, as the day was incredibly clear. I felt great, with only a slight pressure headache but nothing serious. Keli and Ahsan were impressive and almost ran up the hill. I persevered at a contented, zen-like pace. Tomorrow, though, I intend to take the MP3 player.
Diesel Hut is also called Priyut 11 or the Refuge of Eleven. It used to be a climbers’ hut named in honour of eleven climbers who camped there often. The original hut burned down, and the former diesel storage hut for Priyut 11 has become a roofed shelter. The first thing I noticed upon topping the hill was that I was downwind from a very familiar smell. The area had the whiff of Barafu at Mt. Kilimanjaro — a distinct smell of long-drop toilets. After using them, Keli and I rated them about a 7 or 8 on the “Barafu scale” (1 being clean and amazing, 10 being Barafu or “shit hell”). Keli reported that the Barrels below ranked about 6 on our scale. I have yet to confirm this.
At Diesel, we met some folks from Colorado, Seattle, and other parts of the States. Their first summit attempt will be with us on Sunday, but they intend to ski down. I should note that this area is a summer skiing destination, and there are a ton of skiers and snowboarders. In fact, we passed Ilya coming down on his snowboard. We descended back to the valley by mid-afternoon for lunch. By around 4 p.m., I was getting quite the high-altitude headache. A sign of things to come, I wonder?
The afternoon was spent packing for our stay at the Barrels. I decided to take only my small daypack and load it up as much as possible. Keli, on the other hand, decided to take her big pack and stuff her small pack inside. She could barely lift it and was concerned about how she would carry it if the chairlift after Mir Station was not working. Meanwhile, my headache was getting worse. By early evening, I decided I had had enough of the headache and would try a cure from the “Alcoholics’ Book of Home Remedies” — drink a beer with an aspirin and, shortly after supper, climb into the sanctuary of my bed.
The group that had just summited came down and joined us in the restaurant for supper. A couple of them were French and were delighted to find a fellow French speaker in Keli. They finally had someone to talk to besides themselves! It struck me as very odd that after eleven or more days together, they seemed like they were only just getting to know each other. How different from our group.
Eleven climbers had lost their lives on Elbrus at the end of May, just a couple of weeks prior to our arrival. Someone in the descending group had seen signs of their remains on the saddle between the two peaks. According to Sergei, though, almost all the bodies had been recovered. The Russian/Ukrainian group had been climbing without a guide and had been caught in severely bad weather for three days, making rescue impossible.
It’s chilling to think of the danger we are putting ourselves in, but these are the risks we take. We place ourselves in the hands of Mother Nature, challenge our bodies, and take every precaution we can. I just saw a sticker on the wall of the Barrels’ kitchen that describes it perfectly:
“Adventure is the only alternative!”
A further piece of news was that one member of the previous group decided to ascend on her own. She had initially climbed with the others, but her feet had become frozen. Oksana, their guide, had apparently warned her about the boots, but she had not heeded the advice. She came down, changed into warmer boots, and would apparently try to solo the summit tonight.
To close this part, as I am writing this the next day, she did survive, but only made it to 5000m. I don’t have any more news right now.
“When I’m up I can’t get down!”
The Barrels, Mt. Elbrus, Russia. Thursday, June 22, 2006
11am
The title is a Great Big Sea reference. I’m currently sitting in the Barrel where we’ll be staying for the next 4 or 5 days. It’s long and can comfortably accommodate the six of us. I’m listening to my MP3 player and even getting Sergei to listen to some Great Big Sea….
3:20pm
It’s been an exciting couple of hours. We came up to the Barrels with all our gear and settled in, as I mentioned above. It took a bit of effort on the chairlifts to bring all the equipment, but in the end it worked out fine. We then went for lunch, cooked by Vera, the camp cook. She seems very nice, and her cooking is certainly fantastic. After the meal and a short rest, we went on our planned acclimatization climb to 4500m.
I love walking to music, so I moved at a slow pace. Occasionally, Keli would also listen to one of the earbuds to hear some Punters or other Newfoundland music I’d loaded before coming. Eventually, we made it back to the Diesel Hut (4050m). The clouds looked angry today and were gathering in force behind us. At first, Sergei was content to continue, but within three steps of that decision, we heard thunder crashing very loudly and very close. He immediately changed his mind, and we ran down. One of the greatest risks in mountain climbing is lightning strikes on an exposed slope. To lessen the danger, we collected our ice axes and other metal items and strung them behind Sergei with a length of rope. We descended through fog and ice rain—weather that resembled home in Newfoundland.
Now we’re relaxing for a bit. Anders has taken quite a liking to my copy of Nick Hornby’s A Long Way Down. I might have to wrestle it away from him in the next couple of days! I’m going to go help shovel snow so we can have some drinking water. Oh, and I’ve now seen the toilets and revised my assessment of them. Diesel is not bad; the Barrels are a 9 on the Barafu scale. Mike Mannion, you were right!
7pm
Everyone is quiet and in their own worlds. It’s interesting how this group has become so comfortable with each other. They say a good group is one that can exist in silence. Keli, Anders, and Mike are reading, while Ahsan is listening to music, and so am I. I’ve started working on a couple of short stories I’ve been meaning to write for years. I also discovered that my bed doesn’t have support on one side and keeps sinking—should make for an interesting night.
Mike is looking forward to sleeping without the noise of the hotel bar below him! For the last two nights, locals had been partying at the hotel bar. Naturally, I sleep through anything, but Mike was unfortunately stuck directly above it. Last night was so bad that even I woke up at 2am and went looking for Tatiana—unsuccessfully. Luckily, it quieted down shortly afterward. Here at 3800m, there is no bar, only the silence of ice and snow… and snoring.
“Stop! Stop! Military Polizei!”
The Barrels, Mt. Elbrus, Russia. Saturday, June 24, 2006
I finally had a good night’s sleep, despite lying at an angle to keep the blood from rushing to my head. I woke up a couple of times; once, the Barrel filled with light from a nearby lightning strike, and thunder crashed directly above us. My last thought before drifting off again was, “Gosh. I hope no one is going up Elbrus tonight!”
At breakfast, I chatted with Tom, the guide for the American group. He mentioned that another American group had gone up. According to Sergei, about 25 people had set out on a summit attempt. As of 2 p.m., I still haven’t heard whether any of them made it back.
During breakfast, everyone decided against going down to the Azau Valley. I was wavering, but Keli absolutely needed her chewing gum and desperately wanted to go skiing instead of heading down. Since I was the first to suggest going to the valley, I felt I ought to follow through. Besides, I was looking forward to doing something other than staying at the Barrels. Vera, the cook, was going down as well, so Sergei suggested I accompany her—seemed like a good idea.
After gathering a list of items to fetch, I headed off with Vera. First, we spent a quick 20 minutes in a snowcat (I just follow orders!), and then, I guess Vera must have convinced them to start the chairlift, so down we went. Through a combination of English, German, Russian, sign language, and various gestures, I learned that Vera is a geography teacher and was going down to check on her children.
Once I reached the valley, I picked up Keli’s chewing gum, changed some money, and grabbed everything else on our shopping list. I immediately headed back, despite the temptations of a cold beer! When I got to Mir Station, however, the chairlift to the Barrels wasn’t running. D’oh! The weather looked like it was getting bad, and there was no one around to ask how long the chairlift had been closed, so I shouldered my now-heavy pack and set off up the wet snow.
Within ten minutes it started snowing, followed by a strong wind and driving rain that soaked me right through. I started to feel quite cold. I’d been a bit stupid, wearing only a cotton T-shirt and no water-resistant pants. Luckily, Sergei had persuaded me to take my Gore-Tex jacket, or I would have been hypothermic. Feeling cold, miserable, tired, and dejected, I continued my forced march up the mountain. Not five minutes later, I looked up to see about fifteen men in military uniforms hurtling toward me, waving their arms.
“Military, Spezial Polizei!” they yelled as they caught up.
You can imagine my initial reaction: confusion, fear, and shock. Was I about to be arrested? Then suddenly they were hugging me, shaking my hand, and taking my photo. Good Lord. Keli was right—I am a total freak here! (Nothing “hot” about me, folks.) Meanwhile, the rain had turned to ice pellets.
After my encounter with the military group, I continued my march up. As I got closer to the top, the sky cleared, and the sun came out, drying me off a bit. A sudden squeaking sound above made me look up and realize the chairlift was running again. The bastards.
Anyway, I made it back, delivered my goods, and found Keli furious. Sergei had promised to help her rent skis up here, but he disappeared to ski himself after saying something about a shop being closed. Needless to say, Keli was not pleased (and that’s a lot of anger in a small package). She said her rage alone would fuel her Elbrus ascent tonight.
I spoke with Tom and some of his team (Pete, Tip, and Dave) over lunch. They suggested I print a T-shirt that says, “Photo? 5 Rubles,” or maybe start a career in “exotic” work and turn to porn. “Dups Does Novosibirsk” does have an interesting ring to it!
Sergei says we’ll try to summit at 1 a.m. tonight. I’m getting excited! For now, I’m going to rest. Oh, and it turns out we’re not alone in our Barrel. Keli went to retrieve an apple from her bag only to discover that the cloth had been chewed through and the apple was chewed on extensively. Cheers to our newly found companion! Let’s hope it doesn’t cross Keli’s path—her patience for apple rustlers only stretched so far.
7pm
Keli is no longer angry with Sergei. He lent her his skis and poles so she could try a run on the slopes. Unfortunately, the slushy snow didn’t make for the best run.
I just finished supper and packed for our midnight wake-up and 1 a.m. departure to the Pastukhova Rocks for a summit attempt. It’s been hailing with thunder and lightning for four or five hours now, sometimes quite heavily, so I’m not sure if we’ll really go. Time to get some sleep. If all goes well, my next entry will be either post-summit or post-attempt.
Good news: the climbers from last night’s attempt came back having reached the summit successfully.
Good night! Sleep tight!