So following on from my last post, day 10 would see us pack up early in the morning after a relentless buffeting from the wind in our hut all night long. Our Elbrus North Side attempts were over after two aborted summit attempts (one at 4,800m due to high winds, the other last night where we couldn’t even leave the safety of the hut, again due to high winds).
The hastily made, but now incredibly exciting, plan for the next 24 or so hours was now as follows:
1. We pack everything we have with us and head back down to Base Camp at 2,500m (about a four hour trek).
2. Two trucks had been booked to take us the four further hours out of the Caucasus mountains altogether and back to Pyatigorsk where we would spend the night back at the hotel we stayed on Day One.
3. We would be transported tomorrow morning by bus to a ski station on the South Side of Elbrus (another four hours) called Terskol.
4. We would get a cable car up to about 3,700m tomorrow afternoon whereupon we would rest before making a summit attempt on the South Side at midnight or so, probably with a little help from a snowcat to get us to about 4,500m. We were already acclimatised to this height and had been there only yesterday by our own steam, so this was alright with me. In fact it was a lot better than alright – it was fantastic.
With the wind now finally at manageable levels, we said our goodbyes to High Camp on the North Side for the last time, and headed down the mountain. Most of us had more kit than our rucksacks could manage and so we arranged some porterage for the bits we couldn’t fit in at a cost of €2/kilo. Some brave (or more parsimonious :)) souls like Andy strapped everything they had to the outside of their packs and soldiered on. I was very glad of the assistance I have to say!
Katherine happy to be heading out and down….
The weather improved remarkably within about 30 minutes of getting out of camp, and got warmer and warmer as the air got richer going down the mountain.
Heading down towards ‘The Airfield’ – Adele with a pack practically bigger than she is!
The trek was easy going and relaxed, which made a nice change after such a hard few days on the glacier struggling against the winds.
Heading through ‘the gorge’ – Base Camp finally in view in the distance.
Finally getting to Base Camp at about 11.30, we changed into T shirts and had a very welcoming lunch and (for a few of us at least) a well deserved beer – bliss!
Base Camp warmth and happiness!
It was then back into our trusty little trucks for the long journey back to Pyatigorsk, which went without incident.
On the dirt road out of Base Camp – even Viktor had to hold onto something!
It was almost weird being back in Pyatigorsk. The temperature was in the 30s (centigrade) but the shower was extremely welcome it has to be said after over a week without one.
In the evening we went to a pizza restaurant, and the first thing I noticed was that it was odd to be able to choose your own food. Strange how the mind adapts so quickly to your circumstances where you just put up with (even if you don’t always enjoy!) whatever food is put in front of you up a mountain. It was great though not to have buckwheat and borsht, and tuck into something tasty, washed down with more beer too – fabulous!
Then it was a case of trying to sleep in a temperature of (still) 30 degrees, but I think most folks managed it just fine. I hadn’t slept for the last two nights almost at all, and so could have slept standing up in a blast furnace if I had to.
The next day would determine whether we would be likely to get up Elbrus finally. The logistics alone of us getting into the right position to be able to even attempt the summit meant it was going to be a long and amazing journey in just 24 hours, and on top of the one we had already had, it just added to the fantastic adventure that it already was. This time though it was even more binary, as we had now less than 48 hours before our visas expired and we had to leave the country altogether. In what was now a race against the clock, as well as the elements, we would thus either summit tomorrow night, or would be going home empty handed. The weather forecast didn’t look too bad, but the term “fingers crossed” had never been so apt……
Day 9 would have been, if all gone extremely well, summit day on Elbrus. Sadly all had not gone to plan at all, and in the early hours of this morning we had been beaten back by some of the most forceful winds I had ever been out in. At about 3.30 this morning, the vast majority of us could barely see or stand up in gales and spindrift which left you breathless. These would have been bad enough on a winter’s day in England, but at almost 5km up on a Russian mountain, they were more than the biggest challenge that we could have coped with.
When we all crawled out of bed at 10.30 or this morning, we were all somewhat battered from the night before, but hopeful that there would be another chance if the weather turned in our favour. The forecast wasn’t good, but then the forecast throughout the whole trip had been entirely unreliable, and we were up a beast of a mountain that didn’t want to play ball, and that is that sometimes.
Today would end up a turbulent day, in more ways than one, and it would demonstrate that teamwork and communications are so vital for how harmonious and ultimately successful any summit attempt can be.
The boots and kit from last night get a good airing.
My midday, after everyone had dried and aired kit out on the rocks at high camp, Adele explained our options to us. We had possibly two more nights here at high camp, and we could (those of us who had the legs) attempt a summit attempt again tonight if we wanted. If it was successful that would be it. If we were again beaten back by the weather, then again those who were still fit, determined and capable enough could have a third go on Tuesday.
To some this sounded ok, to others (already bruised by the evening before’s attempts) it was enough already. Andy, Jo and Katherine for example, decided that they wouldn’t attempt it again this evening, and no-one could blame them for that.
There was also however, another possibility it seemed, which came to most of us slightly from left field, and it happened thus:
The previous expedition to Elbrus (a few weeks prior to ours) had been beaten back by weather too, and they had made a decision to try to go around to the other side of the mountain (the south side), and they (most of them anyway) had successfully summitted. Knowing this, Dennis and Roxanne, being Russian speakers had had a word with our Russian in-country guide Viktor about the possibility of us doing the same.
Killing time, dining hut, High Camp.
This caused a bit of consternation (ok, it caused a whole wheelbarrowfull of consternation) for several reasons. Firstly, this was Adele’s trip as leader and it was her decision ultimately as to what we did and didn’t do, and the fact that there was a subplot going on must have caused some difficulties for her, especially as the logistics were extremely complicated in changing plans at this late stage. Secondly it would mean everyone paying about another €200 to get round to the other side (transport and accommodation costs in the main), with no more guarantee of success than we had where we were. Thirdly it polarised one member of the party from the others, which was a real shame. Steve felt very strongly that he had come to do the mountain from the North Side, and he felt that to go from the South was not what he signed up for. This was due to the fact that a cable car would take us up the mountain there to the same height as we were now, 3,700m, and he felt that he didn’t want to be helped up a mountain by mechanical means.
As all this was by now going round in everyone’s heads, and no one knew what to do, Adele decided that the best way was to bring everyone together and to do this by a vote. Democracy would rule, and this seemed equitable I think to everyone, Steve included.
At about 4pm therefore, we all sat in the dining hut and all put forward our views. It was clear that the majority wanted to give themselves the best chance of standing on the summit of the mountain, and that included me, and that meant going to the South side tomorrow early on. It wasn’t a 100% yes vote, but then these sort of things rarely are. We left the hut knowing that the plan was however to do just that. Viktor made some phone calls, and we’d need to be down to Base Camp by about 11am to get minibuses back to Pyatigorsk (a four hour journey). We’d at least then be able to get cleaned up in the hotel and warm too – a nice shower after 11 days of nothing but baby wipes on the mountain was sounding extremely appealing!
In the meantime everyone occupied themselves with sorting out clothes and then also making a video! Today was Ukrainian Independence Day, and Dennis and Roxanne wanted to make a montage of everyone saying a line from some Ukrainian poem which symbolised the day. We all joined in heartily, and with the backdrop of a very windy and getting colder by the minute Elbrus, a great deal of fun and camaraderie was had.
Getting ready for Youtube filming, on our final afternoon at High Camp.
So in the evening we gathered for our last supper at High Camp, only to have another spanner thrown into the works. Without wanting to paint too much of a biased view on proceedings, it turned out that what we agreed this afternoon was no longer a done deal. Steve basically unilaterally decided that he wasn’t going to the South of the mountain and that what we were here for was the North side, and this meant we needed to go for the summit tonight! I don’t think anyone really agreed with him, but again without elaborating too much on what was said or done (although this is my blog, I don’t feel it is right to have a “he said/she said” story here without people’s right to put their sides of the story too) that was that.
Adele therefore asked who would like to go for the summit at midnight, and there were six who opted in. Dennis, Roxanne, Steve, Cormac, Hui Ling and I would have our second attempts, and the rest would wait and see the outcome, which would basically be that if we made it, the trip was over and we all came down. If we were beaten, then there would still potentially be the chance of one more go the next day depending on what time and where we didn’t make it.
With rucksacks again packed, bedtime at 8pm just didn’t feel right, and I didn’t sleep a wink. I suppose I was uncomfortable that the group was now split and that we were no longer all in this together. By 9pm, all was quiet in the hut and also outside, but this really was the calm before the storm.
By about 10.30pm, an hour or so before we were due to get up, the most incredible wind began to blow. The hut shook, and vibrated, and moved literally backwards and forwards on its rock base albeit only slightly, but it could be felt all the same. The plastic sheeting that was our roof flapped so violently that I have no idea how it stayed on, or didn’t act as a sail and send us all crashing down the mountain. It would have been impossible to sleep if you were drugged up to the eyeballs in this, and it was pretty scary at times too.
It went through my mind several times that it might be better to get out of the hut and be safer taking chances in the rocks on the mountainside in my sleeping bag, but almost before the thought had the chance to take root it was midnight, and time to go up the mountain! But surely we couldn’t, could we? Adele donned her down jacket and stepped outside and met with Viktor to assess the situation. She duly returned within about 5 minutes during which time no-one left the pretend security of their sleeping bag, and she told us that they both had been literally blown off their feet outside, and that Viktor’s hat had sailed off down the mountain. No-one was going anywhere tonight. I was secretly delighted, however much I wanted to get to the top of this mountain, as I knew it wasn’t right and wasn’t going to happen tonight.
The wind continued to bellow and blast the hut all night, and if anything it got stronger. At about 3am I just wanted the world to stop and for to be able to get off, but it wasn’t going to happen I knew that. Not being able to sleep makes me miserable, and although this was all very exciting being up the mountain and all that, you just get tired of being tired.
I think that eventually I got about an hour’s sleep of some description immediately before dawn, when the wind did eventually abate a bit. If the night before up the mountain had been horrific, then this had been 5 times worse. Elbrus wasn’t going to let us get to the summit, not from the North side, and it was time to actually accept defeat. At 6am the decision was taken to pack things up and move out asap – we were going down and moving out of here for good.
Day 8, Sunday 23rd August, saw us all wake up at High Camp at 3,730m for the fourth day, and it could (with a lot of luck) be the last day we would wake up here.
This evening would see our summit attempt on Elbrus, at 5,642m the highest point in all of Europe, leaving at around midnight. Before then it was a case of resting up as much as possible, getting kit ready, and trying to pass the time. The day was generally calm, although a bit cooler and windier than it had been, which left people wondering how conditions would be up on top. Yesterday’s acclimatisation walk had been in perfect conditions, but everyone knew that there would be no way we could expect things to be that benign all the way, even if the only forecast we had was a pretty good one.
In fact the weather forecast dominated pretty much everyone’s thoughts for most of the day. It was frustrating (and probably my only real criticism of Jagged Globe the whole trip) that even our expedition leader Adele Pennington didn’t have access to any sort of weather forecast. In fact the only way she could get access to anything substantive was to ring her partner via Sat Phone back home in Fort William, Scotland, to look things up on the internet for us. Sadly he was out, and so couldn’t oblige. The reason we needed it was to try to predict wind speeds at the top of the mountain, and they didn’t look good.
Our in country guide, Viktor, who had summited the mountain over 100 times, spent a fair bit of the time looking at the top of the mountain over the afternoon. He said “it doesn’t look good, wind may be too high”.
Viktor ponders what to do whilst the clouds begin to gather at pace over the summit.
For the rest of us, we had no phone signal, no internet, no access to anything whatsoever, and it is at times like this that you realize just how much you miss those things. We did eventually manage to get one text message (thanks Hui Ling) away between us, which gave a response of 25 kph winds, clear, and -10 degrees. So on the basis of this, it looked like we were going for it. Whilst nervous, that was just what everyone wanted to hear.
By mid afternoon therefore, most people were basically ready with their equipment, and most (me included) chose to spend time resting or sleeping. We would after all not be going to sleep at all tonight, and would have (if successful) a 17 or so hour slog taking us through from midnight until late Sunday afternoon. The ascent would take a predicted 12 hours (we had over 2 vertical kilometers to climb), and then about 5 coming down all being well.
Viktor by teatime was again looking at the mountain somewhat nervously (or that’s how it looked). He however just pondered and said that we would decide at 11 O Clock when we all woke up. Everyone therefore went back to bed after dinner at about 8pm and tried to sleep. I didn’t sleep a wink, nervously waiting for the opportunity to hopefully get going.
When we got up again at 11pm, all was fairly calm, and a breakfast was duly prepared for us. We got porridge (proper version this time, not the buckwheat variety) and somewhat bizarrely, caviar. I didn’t really feel like eating anything at all, let alone caviar, but took some chocolate off the table for sustenance (there was always plenty of chocolate sweets around, and biscuits, which were considerably better than the bread, and softer too).
At midnight it was into our our harnesses, and this was it – it was happening! It was happening for all of us bar Dave that is – he decided after a day of deliberations (and a bit of a dicky tummy too) that he wasn’t going to make it, so decided to stay in camp.
Headtorches on, crampons tightened, we are off!
So in calm but cold conditions, we set off into the night to conquer this big monster of a mountain, all 2km of further height to go. We were prepared, or so we thought.
Within an hour, and moving well on three ropes (two fours and a two), we were confronted by what was initially just a squally headwind, which although it began to burn spindrift into our faces, was entirely manageable. Within an hour and a half however, and with probably only four hundred metres or so gained, it was battering us with every step.
Within two hours it was actually hard to stand up, with the spindrift sheeting into our faces. There were other head torches around us on the mountain, but it was very difficult to tell at times which way was up and which was down. All you could really do was look at the boots in front of you, and hope they were heading in the right direction. The wind was deafening to the point that you couldn’t have heard yourself scream, and without goggles there wouldn’t have been any way of seeing through what was now basically a whiteout. It couldn’t last, and something simply had to give, either the weather or us.
By about 3am or so we had reached Lenz rocks, and I am not sure even how, but it was good at least to have some definition and know where we were on the mountain. This was about 4,650m. I have no camera shots of this, as I didn’t dare even try to get it out of my bag. There was another group in front of ours, and they were sheltering at the rocks. They seemed to do so for all of about 5 seconds, before about turning and heading straight back down the mountain. Their decision to go down I suppose made it easier for us to reconcile, and with no thought at all from any of us we very happily and unspeakingly followed Adele and Viktor’s lead and got the hell out of there.
There was no dissention in the ranks at all. It would have been at best dangerous to go on, and each step as it was was getting harder and harder.
We headed down the mountain in one straight shot without a break, and got down to High Camp a little after 5am, totally spent. It had been so much effort just making forward momentum at times that no-one probably could have gone on for much longer anyway, even if the weather had miraculously abated. No-one from anywhere summited the mountain that night – and when I look back now at the forecast wind speed of 25kph well I think you could have trebled that and been nearer the mark. What conditions would have been like further up I dread to think.
Safely down, it was straight into bed for a sleep and a rest. No-one cared at this point what the next day would bring, we just needed to get into sleeping bags and crash. I cannot remember ever sleeping so easily or well, and that is coming from someone who sleeps like a log every night of his life.
So maybe the next day we could try again, as we had a spare day and a half built into the itinerary for such contingencies. That was if we still had the legs. But tomorrow, even though we were already into it, just seemed for now like an awfully long way off.
So a week into our trip now, and Day 7 would see our first early start and our first proper trip up the glacier after yesterday’s preparatory glacier travel session. 6 am would come around very quickly (although we slept in slightly as Adele’s alarm failed to go off and when I nudged her at 6.10 everyone was still asleep, including her :)). The good news on looking out of the hut was that we could finally see the top of the mountain!
Elbrus reveals herself properly finally, just after sunrise. The West summit is on the right, although is actually out of view here.
This wasn’t the actual top of the mountain, as the summit is hidden from view at High Camp, but it was the closest we were going to see it from here that was for sure. In the above picture the rocks towards the East (left side) summit start at about 4,700m, and they would be our objective for the day.
By about 6.45 everyone had breakfasted and was starting to get kitted up for the trip. Breakfast was again the dreaded buckwheat, which was served like porridge but was pretty unpalatable. Jo in particular struggled to eat hers at alI, and I think most people including me put a brave face on but struggled with every mouthful.
We set off in the end at about 7.30, and as the bottom of the glacier was only 100m from camp we had crampons on almost straight away. The weather was again glorious as it had been most days so far. We started out on two ropes and then came off these at about 4,200m.
Setting off up the glacier, but where the heck did the dog come from?
Most people were fine on the ascent, but some naturally found it harder than others. Dave found it tough going, partly as he lost a water bottle half way up, and partly because this was the highest he had ever been up to at altitude. He did brilliantly though throughout considering he had never been this high before. We were also strangely followed up the mountain by a Labrador, who obviously didn’t mind the altitude, and did its best to meander between us and get in our way the whole way. I guessed it must belong to one of the various Russian climbers who were camped close to us on the rocks at High Camp. I’ve never seen a dog that high before that’s for sure.
From 4,200m we stayed off ropes so that Adele and Viktor could judge which of us were capable of summitting. We had been told that the group would be likely be split on summit night (hopefully tomorrow) depending upon the weather and how everyone was feeling. The west (true) summit, although only 21m higher than the East summit, was a further three hours, and so would only be for the fittest and fastest of the group. No-one, but no-one, wanted to go to the East Peak.
Our rope takes a well earned breather while Viktor’s team above soldiers on – the sun beats down still.
Looking back down towards High Camp from about 4,600m. If you look very closely there are climbers just starting out on the glacier way down below.
Looking East towards Georgia – the pitch of the mountain was consistently steep the whole way.
As we reached the start of Lenz Rocks (4,600m) the group started fragmenting more, and also the weather turned noticeably colder. From just having one layer on, all of a sudden within 100 metres I needed three, plus gloves, hat and buff. It made me realise, as if I needed to be told, just how conditions can change on a mountain. We were also still one vertical kilometre away from what would hopefully be Sunday night/Monday morning’s destination, and I made a mental note to make sure my rucksack had as much cold weather gear in it as I had with me. This was after all the middle of the day in glorious sunshine, and we would be aiming for this part of the mountain in pre-dawn conditions, always the coldest part of the day.
We stopped at 4,800m, had a quick snack, and then soon after headed down again, our acclimatisation over for now. We could see climbers well above us at the Col at about 5,300m, and the pitch there looked really steep. I realised that this would be a really really tough summit day on a big and tough mountain. It was already harder and steeper than I had expected it to be.
Looking down towards High Camp from Lenz Rocks at 4,800m, the clouds now starting to roll in up the mountains
A we all earned breather at Lenz Rocks, 4,800m, our highest point of the day, the temperatures massively different up here.
Katherine enjoys that “yay I’m at 4,800m moment”
Everyone had made it to 4,800m, which was great, and the next time we would (hopefully) pass this spot would hopefully be on our summit attempt. The conditions had been better than perfect, and it had been a hugely successful acclimatisation walk.
The trek back down was largely uneventful, save for very close to the bottom of the glacier when I managed to trip over my crampons and fall face first onto some hard ice. I thankfully protected my face with my hands but I otherwise couldn’t really adjust the fall as we were all still roped up at the time. I came away with one badly cut finger and a few other cuts and scrapes, but thankfully nothing worse. It would have been typical for me to hurt myself by doing something careless and clumsy in such an innocuous situation by just not looking where I am going. I made a note to myself to always have gloved hands on a glacier too.
Some of the views on the way down were breathtaking, and this part of the world is surely as beautiful as anything the Alps has to offer. We could also see from here some of the views towards the south side of Elbrus, and it looked a lot more mountainous and dramatic over there. It really made me want to come back and explore more at another date, although unbeknown to me at the time, I’d be seeing more of the south side a lot sooner than I thought.
After a restful afternoon we had a debrief from Adele about what summit day would involve, and everyone generally chilled and checked kit etc. I got my cut fingers attended to by Dennis (who as a doctor had come prepared with full medical kit) and Adele, and all was fine.
Afternoon tea and a debrief of what tomorrow might bring – good hut times 🙂
So that was us acclimatised, and we would now rest our bodies and get prepared physically and mentally by doing literally as little as possible over the next 36 hours. The next day would be a complete rest day in preparation for the summit bid commencing at midnight. We’d rest until late afternoon, then sleep until 11pm, whereupon we’d have a summit breakfast before heading out for a 16/17 hour summit attempt.
We all went to bed fairly early in nervous and excited anticipation of what lay before us. It was time, almost, to step up to the highest point in all of Europe.
Day 6 would see us do our first crampon walking on the glacier, but would otherwise be a day for us to acclimatise at camp 2 at 3,730m. This would be our home until after summit day, which would be another 3 or 4 days potentially depending upon the weather. The accommodation was again in huts, which is at least warmer than tents, and gave us more room to sort out kit etc.
Our aim for today was firstly to collect all of our summit equipment which had been cached the day before at about 3,500m. So after a pretty reasonable sleep, and a nice breakfast of buckwheat (Jo’s favourite food, she loved it, not, closely follow by me and Cormac), and with the sun shining, we walked back down the mountain through a boulder field to where our kit was stored, hoping all the time that it was still there, as without it there would be no possibility of climbing the mountain.
Heading down the boulder field in search of hidden treasures.
Thankfully everyone found everything buried under the rocks just as it had been left, and as it had all been diligently wrapped in drybags/plastic bags it was still dry too. The walk back up to camp only took about an hour, and after lunch we went out to the glacier to make sure everything worked ok, which thankfully it did for all of us.
Everyone getting the hang of their crampons…..
A pretty chilled day all round was had.
We ascended about 300m or so in zig zags up to around 4,000m and everyone found the going pretty easy.
Looking back down the glacier towards our huts, middle left of picture.
And looking back up towards the summit, descending now towards camp.
Following this everyone chilled for the afternoon and had a few games of Mafia (a good game if you don’t know it – look it up!) before dinner and an early night. Tomorrow would be an early start for our acclimatisation walk up to around 4,800m. The weather looked promising for the morning, following which we would then have an entirely free rest day to prepare us for the summit the night after. It was getting more and more exciting by the day now……..
Day 5 of the trip began with the sound of torrential rain on top of the hut in base camp. This would be our second and last morning at base camp, as we would be ascending to Camp 2 (or High Camp, at 3,730m) today.
The rain had carried on all night and it seemed like it would never end. We woke up at 7, and just didn’t even want to get out of the sleeping bags. It was one of those mornings when you just don’t even want to go to the toilet. But get up we had to, as we would have to pack up all of our remaining kit that we would need for the summit, as the last time we would see base camp would be after summit day.
By the time we had got wet walking the 10 yards to the dining hut we were all fired up again, and the rain actually started to ease off a bit. We waited until about 9.30 before setting out, and everyone’s rucksacks were practically bursting, and we realised the merits of having cached so much stuff the day before, to the point that we couldn’t have got much more in this day. Jagged Globe had originally advised 45 litre rucksacks, but even with a 75 litre one I was still pushed to fit everything in.
The walk would be the same one as we did for yesterday’s cache trip, and then it was about another hour and a half from there to our hut.
Thankfully the rain held off for the vast majority of the trip, but there was the odd downpour which meant that the waterproofs stayed on for most of the way.
Hui Ling tries her best Monsters Inc impression on Adele, who seems somewhat unperturbed 🙂
The path through the boulders as the climb began to steepen….
…..and we are nearly there as the glacier finally comes into view.
Once past our cache the path steepened significantly, and with very heavy packs on it made it quite tiring. Once we had climbed for about three quarters of an hour we finally got a view of the top third of the mountain (minus the summit, which was still in cloud), which was great and really lifted my tiredness. From there the last half hour or so was an easy walk, and we reached the three huts which made up our new home for the next six days.
The glacier leading towards the summit of Elbrus – a faint trail of climbers can be seen on the way up on the left hand side.
The ‘flappy roof’ hut on the right, which housed nine of us, the kitchen hut on the left.
Once in camp we sorted ourselves into two different huts, nine of us in one, and four in the other. The hut with the four was shared initially with a number of Russian guys who looked like they were going for the summit the next day, and this would probably be the pattern for the week as to people coming and going. The rest of us tried to spread out a bit in our hut (not very difficult I can assure you), and the main challenge in there (as the rest of the week was to prove) was the nylon roof – it was very evident that if the wind blew much then it would not be very comfortable or quiet in there.
High Camp, inside the flappy roof hut – cosy at least!
A view towards the high camp toilet (left middle of shot in the distance) – a long walk in the middle of the night (which was never made to my knowledge, al fresco much easier).
We stayed around camp for the afternoon and took some pictures of what we could see of the mountain, and just generally hung around and rested. It was important just to get used to being at over 3,700m, and it was clear that just trying to move quickly could easily overexert yourself.
The views up towards the top of the mountain showed just how far we still had to go. It was upwards of 2 vertical kilometres to the top, and that would be our summit day. I recalled that I had never gone close to 2,000m of ascent in a day ever, let alone at close to 6km high. It was going to be the tallest of orders, but no-one was focussing on that for the time being.
Our first (almost) clear view of the top of the mountain. The only clear views were at about 6am as the sun rose. The summit (west peak) is hidden behind the clouds at the top right of the picture.
Hut life at 3,730m – this was our dining hut – home for all meals for the next five or more days….
Following a dinner of borsht (we got used to it, and actually it wasn’t bad at all) it was a reasonably early night for all and hopefully some sleep. Everyone was tired, but sleeping at close to 3,800m when not yet acclimatised would no doubt prove difficult.
At our briefing this evening we were told that the next day we would go an collect our mountaineering equipment from the cache down the mountain, and then get some glacier travel practice in the afternoon. It seemed all of a sudden that the really exciting part of the trip, that of getting onto Elbrus’ glacier, and upper reaches, was finally about to start. This had been months in the coming for most of us, and was at last here. The summit seemed so close now, and yet still so far……
I woke up for what seemed to be about the fortieth time in base camp for my first full day on Elbrus. I’d had a rubbish night’s sleep, unusual for me. I don’t know whether it was the altitude (although only 2,500m) or the heat (it was still probably 20+ degrees), but in any case I tossed and turned all night. There was also a mighty storm in the middle of the night where we thought the hut was going to blow away, which all added to the drama a bit. I was glad that we weren’t in tents, and was surprised in fact to see other tents in the camp still standing in the morning.
After a very passable breakfast it was off for our caching trip. We set off just after 9, and it was a fairly easy walk for the most part. We set off on the edge of a gorge, and then past a big area known as the airfield, which was used as a German runway during WW2. From there we climbed quite steeply up towards (and for our first proper sight of) Elbrus’ glacier before heading off towards the rocks where we would hide our stuff to collect in two days time. It rained a fair bit at the start of the day, but then cleared up to be fine and warm for the most part.
The walk served two purposes, since as well as allowing us to cache our glacier equipment (ice-axes, double-plastic boots, crampons, etc.), we would be ascending to around 3,500m and then coming back down again, so being good for acclimatisation purposes.
Leaving Base Camp in the early morning rain.
Heading across the flat area known as ‘the airfield’, actually a German base during WW2. The upper reaches of Elbrus are shrouded in cloud above us.
Heading towards the rocks at 3,500m where we would cache our glacier equipment.
And the cache itself is underway……
…..and the cache is complete.
The trek up took about 3 and a half hours in total, and once the equipment was all well hidden, we set off back down the mountain via a different route, this time going via ‘mushroom rocks’. The rocks are so-called as they have eroded at the base quite significantly, and flat tops remain. They became a good stopping place for a rest and some photographs.
On the approach to Mushroom Rocks.
Climbing on top of the rocks for a better view of our surroundings.
From the rocks we all descended back to base camp for some rest and food, and then a debrief for what the next few days had in store. Tomorrow we would head out of Base Camp and move up to High Camp at 3,700m, which would be our new base for as long we stayed to attempt the summit. This would of course enable to us to acclimatise better than at Base Camp, which at 2,500m wasn’t exactly ‘at altitude’.
We then packed for the coming days, leaving anything we didn’t need for the summit in our bags at Base Camp, and carrying everything else in our rucksacks. There was still a lot of equipment to pack, and we were glad that we had cached so much earlier, and even with 75 litre rucksacks it was all still a squeeze.
Andy packing everything down (or trying to :)) into his rucksack.
Before retiring we bought access to wifi at the Camp, and looked at the weather forecast for the coming week while we would be up in High Camp. The forecast looked pretty bad, with strong winds and snow, but there was a potential weather window on Sunday, our intended summit day anyway. Mountain weather forecasts are notoriously unreliable more than a few days out, and so no-one worried unduly. Having however seen at least some of the mountain so far, and knowing that we would be faced with a 2,000m summit day, we knew that without some fair weather this mountain was not going to yield very easily.
Sleep came about much easier having had a climb to 3,500m today, and we looked forward to the days ahead with a mixture of excitement and trepidation…….
Day two started very pleasantly/slightly surreally with breakfast in the ballroom (yes really) of the Intourist Hotel. It was a good breakfast and we met some of the Jagged Globe group who had been on the previous trip there too, as they were just returning home that day. Not many of them had summited, but they seemed to have enjoyed the experience. It was suggested to me that I ‘fill my boots’ at the breakfast table, as apart from a lot of soup on the mountain, there wasn’t a lot else that was particularly fulfilling. I took note and ate as many croissants as I could get down 🙂
The somewhat overelaborate breakfast setting at the Intourist Hotel
We then set off for Base Camp on Elbrus at 8.45 in two of the oldest minibuses I have ever seen:
Our carriages await……
squeezing in the luggage – it fit, just.
There were 8 of us in one plus 5 in the other (the 11 of us plus Adele and Viktor our guides) and plus the drivers too. The heat was stifling, as the temperature was 38 degrees and the only air cooling you could get was by tying to hold part of one of the windows half open. It didn’t do much, but it was something.
The journey was about 100km in total, of which the first three hours were on fairly normal roads. At this point we got our first views of the twin peaks of Elbrus through the windows of the minibus. It looked monstrous from even this far out. Every picture I have seen online of Elbrus just doesn’t do it justice, as when you see it in the flesh you realise how massive and also steep it’s upper slopes are. It made me nervous already, but very excited at the same time.
The mighty (and that’s an understatement) Elbrus comes into view finally.
Having turned off the main road the driver got out and pulled a lever on the front of the van which I think adjusted either the drive or the differential. Either way I still couldn’t believe the rutted track he started driving up. “Ridiculous” doesn’t do it justice, the van pitching from side to side like a small boat being tossed around on a stormy sea.
To make this part of the journey even more exciting the road was only just as wide as the van, and there was a precipitous drop off the left hand side, which would have meant that one slip of the wheels and we would never have been seen again, or not alive anyway. I only wish I could have taken a photo, but, I didn’t dare lose my grip from the side of the seat and the handle in front of me lest I find myself upside down.
When we eventually got across this pass, we could see base camp finally come into view. This was such a relief as it meant that we could get out of the van shortly, but the drama wasn’t over quite yet. As we approached about half a mile from base camp, with the tents in sight, it became obvious to our driver (who had got out of the van by this time and was looking a bit concerned) that the fast flowing river between us and camp was too deep for the van to get through. We would all therefore have to get out and walk.
Base camp comes into view at 2,500m on Elbrus – that river down there is also the road however….
There was a bridge about half a mile downstream where we could get over on foot (albeit somewhat precariously, as it was a rope bridge below which the torrential melt water from the glacier was gushing by). The vans then disappeared upstream somewhere where presumably they could cross more easily without the encumbrance of 8 or so people. The crossing was great fun in the end and we were able to get to the other side safely, and were met by the vans to continue our journey into base camp.
Andy didn’t seem to be too phased by the bridge 🙂
We were in camp by about 1 O’ Clock, and shown to our hut. We had expected to be in two man tents, so the hut was a nice surprise, although it meant that there would be 8 people in our hut (one for the boys one for the girls) which would make it rather warm. This meant my nice new -29 C sleeping bag was not going to get much of a work out, but better too warm than too cold when you are in the mountains.
Elbrus Base Camp, north side – the boys’ hut is on the left, number 5.
After lunch (our first soup!) we went out on a walk for a couple of hours just to get the legs moving again. The walk was really nice, with views of an albeit very cloudy Elbrus, and we went down the valley and then up again. We came upon a load of tents a little way down towards the river, and when there, we were told by Viktor that the waters down here are alleged to have healing properties. There was a small outdoor ‘spa’ which was packed (and I mean packed) with hairy-arsed (not that I looked that closely :)) Russian men, and the only thing more surprising than this was the fact that Viktor went down and stripped off and jumped in himself.
Glacial meltwater pours through an opening in the rocks above us….
The campsite down the valley which brought masses of people to the ‘healing’ springs….
….and the ‘spa’ to which they flocked. It was a little too ‘cosy’ in there for me to go anywhere near!
Upon getting back to camp at about 5 or so it was time nearly for dinner, whereupon we would get our briefing from Adele for the next day. There would be a change to the proposed itinerary, and instead of spending three days here at Base Camp there would be just two. At 2,500m or so, Adele felt that we needed to move higher earlier in order to acclimatise for the later stages of the mountain.
The next camp was at 3,700m, and we would move there the day after tomorrow. In the meantime we would have to cache our mountaineering equipment tomorrow on an acclimatisation walk to about 3,500m. We were about to travel true ‘expedition-style’, which was a first for me – there are no porters or animals to help you on Elbrus – you take what you need, and carry it yourself, in as many goes as it requires to get you up the mountain.
So we had only just arrived here, and had already had an amazing adventure, seeing and experiencing so much. I couldn’t wait to get higher, and start to explore and see the upper reaches of the mountain – with good weather and good acclimatisation, we could potentially be on the summit inside the next five days………….
The first day (and night) of the Elbrus trip was basically all taken up with travelling. Oh and packing, and of course faffing. I am a terrible last minute faffer when it comes to travelling generally, but worse still when it comes to trips to the mountains. I feel the need to pack and unpack several times, despite the fact that my kit has been laid out in order for several days and ticked off a list.
I also find that I have the need to buy things last minute. I will look at the “recommended things to take” some weeks in advance, and know that some things I must have, and others are at best superfluous. I then find myself in a last minute flap when I simply must have those items on the last day.
Take today for example. A matter of hours before I leave for the airport I am buying a silk sleeping bag liner and an insulated tube for my Camelbak. Oh and a half litre flask that I know I will probably never carry, let alone even use. And cords for my sunglasses that I don’t like, and don’t even fit.
Oh and I bought a new down jacket just in case it fitted better into my rucksack than my other one that I bought last year and have never worn. I put neither of them into my bag in the end – just a waste of time and my money. Memo to self – be less wasteful in future 😦
So anyway, on to the travelling. Day one was basically for the group to meet at Heathrow and get to Russia. The flight was Aeroflot to Moscow, and then from Moscow to Mineralne Vody (which translates to ‘Mineral Waters’). We would then meet our group leader, Britain’s only female multiple Everest climber Adele Pennington, in Mineralne Vody the next day. The first flight to Moscow went at 22.15, so it was destined to be a long day and night.
We met at 7pm or so at Heathrow, and we were 11 people in total. Andy and Cormac I had met before at the pre-Elbrus weekend in Snowdonia in June. It was really good to see them again. Then there was Dave, Steve, Dennis and Roxanne, Hui Ling, Jo, and Paul and Katherine. You sort of know when it is going to be a good group, and it was going to be a really good group.
After what seemed to be an interminably long check in, eventually all went smoothly from there, and after a swift glass of wine or two we were on our way. Moscow arrived at 5am in the morning after adding the three hour time difference, and after an almost four hour layover we were on our way to Mineralne Vody, a further two and a half hour flight due south towards the Caucasus mountains, our ultimate destination.
The only shop in Mineralne Vody airport, selling caviar – what else?!
Upon meeting Adele, who was there at the airport to meet us, and Viktor, our local guide, we set off in one small minibus and a taxi. It was sweltering, at a somewhat unexpected 36 degrees C, and air conditioned vehicles are not something I think much seen in these parts of Russia. I had at least arrived in shorts, but it was quite frankly just too hot to be outside whatever you had on.
We checked into the Intourist Hotel in Pyatigorsk, about two hours later, and were just happy to be there, even as hot as it was. What with uncertainties over the Russian/Ukrainian crisis, and a day and night of travelling involving all manner of planes, trains and automobiles, it was great to have all the luggage intact too, particularly as I had spent about £1,000 on my last minute kit shenanigans, including a super warm sleeping bag that would be great for the arctic circle, but probably would boil me alive down here.
The Intourist Hotel, Pyatigorsk – not the prettiest sight in the world, and a case of ‘function over form’ for the most part.
Mine and Paul’s room at the Intourist Hotel, basic, but clean enough, just 🙂
Having got ourselves sorted into our rooms etc., everyone headed out into town to get lunch and buy water and a few snacks for the days ahead. A pizza lunch and (sadly) warm beer over, everyone then headed back to sort out kit etc. for the next day. We would leave anything that we didn’t need for the mountain in the hotel, and pack everything else ready for our departure south to the mountains the next morning.
A view over Pyatigorsk from the third floor of our hotel.
Pyatigorsk seemed like quite a nice place, and certainly prettier than I had feared. This being my first trip to Russia, I had expected something more austere, but throughout the trip it was more affluent, more colourful, more friendly, and just generally ‘nicer’ than I expected it to be. On the flip side of that I saw more military checkpoints and machine guns than I had bargained for too, but more of that in a later post.
In the evening Viktor took us to a local restaurant, and we all got to have a few beers and a general unwind before the ‘real’ trip started the next day.
The group chill over beer and way too many herbs for dinner.
On our way back finally to the hotel something quite strange and almost magical happened. We were walking through a park approaching the hotel, when as we got near a large series of water fountains it became clear that there were literally hundreds of people gathered. Then, over loudspeakers unseen, the sound of classical music began, whereupon to coloured lighting in both the trees and the fountains themselves, the waters danced a coordinated song to the music of Strauss! It was mesmeric, and quite beautifully done.
Fountain music – a completely unexpected, and actually delightful, surprise.
I stood transfixed, and grinning from ear to ear, as a large crowd, young and old, late at night, enjoyed the majesty and simplicity of the spectacle in front of them. This was something that would not occur back home in the UK – it was almost too cultural if you like. I decided that I already loved Russia, and realised that experiences like this, whilst unplanned, were very much part of why I love travelling and going to new places in the first place.
Back finally at the hotel, and it still being about 30 degrees outside, sleep was not terribly easy to come by (air conditioning being as missing in the hotel as it was in the minibus earlier), but eventually it did, as we were all really tired from having not been to bed the night before. It would not by any means be the last loss of night’s sleep to come on this trip, and the adventures ahead of us would start to properly unfold the next day. We were ready – it was time – we were finally here.
I am close to being ready to go for my long awaited trip to Elbrus, Europe’s highest mountain, at 5,642m or 18,510 feet. Elbrus is a dormant volcano in the south of Russia, in the Caucasus mountain range, and close to the border with Georgia. Whilst some people argue that this part of Russia is actually in Asia, it is accepted in all mountaineering circles that Elbrus is in Europe.
So why climb it, and why now? Well it is no secret to anyone that knows me that I harbour a (perhaps foolish, and almost certainly overambitious) desire to complete the Seven Summits. Having done Kilimanjaro a few years ago, I have booked to do Aconcagua in each of the last two years, but had to cancel, and so it is booked again for this December, and I am hoping that it is third time lucky. In the meantime then, I am ‘squeezing in’ Elbrus and hoping that I am lucky enough to be able to summit.
Elbrus 🙂
Elbrus has two main routes up, the North and the South, and also two summits, the East and the West. The South route is easier and busier, being populated by a cable car and ski runs up to over 3,000m. I will be attempting the North route, and trekking the whole mountain from base to summit. I will also be aiming for the West summit, the slightly higher of the two, conditions permitting. The whole trip takes about 12 days, of which nine are on the climb itself.
The mountain is essentially non-technical, in that it requires only glacier travel experience, and no technical climbing. It will need crampons and ice-axe only, and for us to be roped up in teams of four. The climb is expedition style, which means carrying everything that I have with me on my back, and cacheing where possible as part of the acclimatisation. The sleeping arrangements are in tents, other than I think one night in a hut of sorts somewhere. I think the final night is spent at around 15,800 feet, which is higher than Mont Blanc!
I’ve had to buy a shedload of new stuff for my trip (well actually I could have hired most of it, but I just wanted some new kit), and including some 6,000m mountaineering boots, a -25 degree sleeping bag, a new thermarest, an ice axe, a new 75 litre rucksack, a new lightweight harness, and a new light down jacket. Packing it all into the rucksack is going to be fun, but I’ll obviously get there somehow.
The whole trip is going to be an amazing adventure, as amongst other things it is my first trip to Russia, my first trip to the Caucasus mountains, my first expedition style mountaineering (they have been portered previously), and the second highest (fingers crossed) that I will have ever been (depending upon how high people think Kala Pattar is, which if higher than this then it will be third highest). It is also a fundamental stepping stone to the Seven Summits, so fail badly here and then the rest I can forget about really, so the pressure is on too. I’m not thinking about failure though – albeit if the weather is bad (as I found out on Mont Blanc a few weeks ago) then there is nothing you can do about it.
The trip goes via Moscow, then internal flight to Mineralne Vody, then by road to Pyatigorsk. If all goes well I’ll be on the summit about a week after that following a long route up the mountain, and probably some interesting food along the way. I’m very open to whatever is thrown at me, and I hope fit enough too. We’ll find out soon enough…….my next post will let you know whether or not I made it………..until then!
To Kilimanjaro (and beyond?) 