“Fuck! Why did I even like climbing mountains?” A question I repeatedly ask myself at every alpine start. Cold, tired, sleepy, and nothing was really inducive to raging up a sweat.
After a chilly ride, the Snowcat dropped us off at 4800m. Time to start whether we wanted it or not. Treading through the fresh deep snow we marched on step by step. Our path looked deceivingly safe, too safe. The fresh snow had covered up all the signs of danger tempting those who may make a wrong move. Yuri, our assistant guide, carefully walked and placed trail markers along the route for other climbers.
An hour or two passed by, suddenly the white snow became red. It was the sunrise. The sunrise that colored the entire Caucasus mountain range as far as the eye could see. The bright red disc of energy also lit our path to victory, but also more suffering.
Breath in, step, breath out. Breath in, step, breath out. I methodically controlled my breath to get as much oxygen in as I could. We are on the traverse section that takes us from the eastern summit to the western, the true summit. This seemingly flatter section on the climb posed more difficulty than the previous step section. It was long and snowy due to accumulating snow from the nearby peaks.
We became walking machine. Treading through snow the exact same way as the last step to preserve energy. Our team members who got dropped off at 5100m are visible now. Just visible to give us a little hope.
Finally, the machines moved to the saddle between the two peaks. Only a little over 300 meters to go. From this section on, we would utilize the fixed line along the steep slope to secure ourselves in case we fall. Summit was just within our grasp, a sense of celebration was setting in.
With snacks, drinks, and renewed sense of hope, we quickly caught up with the group ahead of us. Together, we all marched on to the last 100 meters of the climb to the victory.
100m, 50, 25. Then a slump of roughly 15 meters high snow slope is just head of us. The summit!! All members of our group gathered around and made our last 30 steps to victory, the top of Europe! Never mind the -20 temperature, never mind the 45 km wind, we erupted in cries of triumph. Some cheered, some swept, and glanced deeply into the far horizon of the Caucasus. The sweat, the despair, and the struggle along the way are all, now, history. This is a moment to remember for all of us, a moment to cheer, and a moment to commemorate. What better ways that pictures to help us capture the moment?
Wind hurdled at us with a stronger force now with nothing blocking its wrath. It was time to make our way down. As most mountaineers would say, getting to the summit is only 50% success, the other 50% is to not to die on the way down. This seemed to be very true for Elbrus. All the steep-sloped that we harnessed in and “safety-ed” up, we must make it down. The wind seemed to have just started to do its damage. Stronger and faster, it pierced through our fatigued bodies. We can’t wait to get off of the mountain, yet we could not have moved fast enough. Our footsteps started to shake, and legs started to give out. One by one, we started slipping and falling. The strong wind cleared our view. We could see our huts, but they seemed so far away.
Once again, I found myself morphing into a stepping machine focusing solely on my next step. 5100, 4800, 4500, now victory is just an hour ahead. The sky suddenly blackened again. Have I run out of time? Andre, another assistant guide, pointed to the sky to call to my attention. The weather is coming back again. It was the start of the 9th hour. I wanted to run down, but my body said otherwise. Luckily for us, the storm seemed to pivot slightly away just as it was approaching us. However, since it is still quite close to us, we sped up our march to get to the safety, our huts.
By the time we arrived, the quiet jubilation has already started. Able to make it back down, now we have earned the true victory. Congratulations and hugs were issued all around as we sat our tired feet down.
The real Russian flavored celebration happened the next day down at the village where we started. Plenty of vodka and drinking competition went on through the night (or until I blacked out XD). As a parting gift, we have even received our certificates and t-shirts from Pilgrim Tours( our climbing outfitter).
As the Chinese old saying goes: there is no banquet that does not end. It was time for us to bid goodbye to each other and to our amazing guide Anna. I could not have said enough good things about this trip, the people we have met, and a few local we have talked to. First time climbing in Russia, I’d certainly call this a grand success. Until next time!