|
A
few
hours
later
the
skies
have
cleared
again
and
we
arrive
at
the
Cheget
Sport
Hotel:
half
finished
and
totally
abandoned
except
for
a
few
cooks.
Fortunately
they
were
expecting
us
and
have
prepared
a
nice
meal.
In
the
meantime
we
have
met
the
two
mountain
guides
Gleb
and
Natascha:
Nikolai
will
accompany
us
during
our
summit
day
on
Elbrus
and
Natascha
will
guide
the
4
Americans
during
the
entire
week.
I
booked
just
the
trip,
transfers
and
a
guide
for
summit
day
and
we
will
spend
the
rest
of
the
week
on
our
own,
exploring
the
area.
But
tonight
we
are
still
together
and
while
the
first
bottle
of
Vodka
is
already
empty
we
enjoy
the
cozy
atmosphere.
After
dinner
we
take
a
little
walk
to
a
nearby
spring
where
the
mineral
water
is
carbonated
when
it's
exiting.
While
the
sun
sets
and
the
temperature
quickly
follows
we
hike
on
to
Terskol,
a
little
village
popular
in
winter
by
skiers
and
boarders.
Now
everything
seems
deserted,
but
the
newly
built
bar
is
open
and
serves
us
some
nightcaps.
Cheget,
29th
June
We
get
up
early
(6.30),
try
one
of
our
homemade
cereal-with-milkpowder-&-sugar-breakfasts
and
leave
for
a
day
hike
to
the
summit
of
mount
Cheget,
3430m
high
and
situated
next
to
the
hotel.
Nice
farm
roads
take
us
up
but
after
a
while
it
seems
that
they
are
taking
us
the
wrong
way
and
we
decide
to
continue
through
the
grassy
slopes
in
the
direction
of
the
chairlift.
We
take
a
little
break
at
the
remains
of
its
predecessor
and
enter
a
game
with
a
local
sheep:
let's
stare
at
each
other
until
one
of
us
moves…
sheep
loses!
We
continue
in
a
steady
pace
and
just
before
we
reach
the
abandoned
chairlift
station
at
3000m
we
decide
to
eat
some
lunch.
"Niall?"
"Yeah?"
"Here's
the
soup,
can
you
hand
me
the
stove?"
When
his
head
emerges
from
his
daypack
he
looks
at
us
apologetically:
"Ehhm,
I
got
the
stoves
and
some
pots,
but
I
think
I
left
the
fuel
at
the
hotel…"
There
we
are,
the
grand
world
travelers
and
mountaineers
with
our
little
packet
of
instant
soup…
So
we
decide
to
skip
the
entrée
and
get
right
to
the
tasty
knäckebröd
with
tuna.
What
was
left
of
the
track
now
has
disappeared
totally
and
we
scramble
our
way
to
the
summit.
Most
is
scree,
some
larger
rocks
and
a
snowfield
every
now
and
then,
but
the
weather
is
holding
out
nicely,
the
silence
is
overwhelming
and
the
views
are
great.
The
last
few
hundred
meters
require
some
hands
and
feet
scrambling,
but
is
it
worth
it.
Saskia
decides
to
rest
on
a
large
buttress;
Niall
and
I
continue
though
the
snow
to
the
summit.
Just
when
we
arrive
we
are
suddenly
being
hugged
by
a
bearded
Russian
who
appeared
from
nowhere.
He
tries
to
convince
us
to
join
him
over
the
narrow
ridge
to
the
next
summit,
but
the
weather
is
deteriorating
quickly
and
after
I
point
at
my
watch
and
the
clouds,
he
nods
and
joins
us
down.
We
take
another
route
down,
and
pass
a
beautiful
glacier
lake
where
we
spend
some
time
relaxing
in
the
grass,
enjoying
some
majestic
fourthousanders,
who
are
just
being
pretty,
undisturbed
by
lifts,
villages
or
trails.
Back
in
the
hotel
we
test
our
second
stove
and
produce
a
large
portion
of
Hutspot
with
hamburgers
for
an
amazed
Niall.
The
receptionist
points
us
to
the
basement
where
the
Deep
Purple
bar
has
attracted
a
few
locals,
but
they
only
communicate
to
their
beers
and
Vodka
and
after
one
Elbrus
beer
we
call
it
a
night.
Azau,
Wednesday
30th
June
50
Rubles
take
us
and
our
luggage
to
Azau,
the
end
of
the
road
and
the
beginning
of
the
cable
car
at
the
foot
of
Elbrus.
We
are
told
that
later
that
afternoon
the
second
stage
of
the
cable
car
will
be
stopped
for
the
next
few
days
for
maintenance
and
we
doubt:
if
everything
goes
as
planned
we
will
be
able
to
take
the
cable
car
in
the
weekend.
But
this
is
Russia
and
rumor
has
it
that
not
everything
that
is
being
planned
here
actually
happens…
The
Americans
don't
take
the
risk
and
ascend
with
the
cable
car
right
away
to
acclimatize
and
do
a
first
carry,
but
we
decide
to
make
a
2day
trip
to
the
Azau
glacier
first.
There
are
quite
a
lot
(unmarked)
trails
in
the
Caucasus,
but
few
of
them
can
be
done
without
axe
and
rope,
especially
in
the
beginning
of
the
season.
The
path
we
take
through
the
Azau
gorge
to
the
glacier
is
eroded
and
huge
parts
are
just
completely
gone
and
many
times
we
just
scramble
along
the
river
over
large
boulders
and
screefields.
But
the
weather
is
beautiful,
the
steep
walls
of
the
gorge
amazing
and
we
feel
like
kings…
After
a
few
hours
we
reach
the
glacier
that
even
since
our
recent
map
was
made
has
receded
quite
a
bit,
and
the
wild
and
cold
glacial
river
now
cuts
off
the
track
we
are
supposed
to
follow.
We
climb
the
glacier
from
the
side
but
decide
that
it
will
be
too
dangerous
to
traverse
it
and
the
screefield
on
the
other
side,
so
instead
of
camping
on
the
'campsite'
that
is
supposed
to
be
at
3000m,
we
put
up
our
tents
on
a
nice
field
close
to
the
glacier.
At
2500m
it
is
not
the
altitude
we
had
in
mind
for
acclimatization
purposes,
but
the
view
is
magnificent
and
as
there
are
no
other
human
beings
around,
we
enjoy
the
greatness
and
peace
of
the
mountains.
Azau
Valley,
Thursday
1st
July
After
a
nice
sleep
we
wake
up
in
another
day
of
blue
skies
and
the
frost
of
the
night
is
chased
away
quickly
by
the
first
comfortable
sunrays.
We
pack
our
stuff
and
slowly
head
back
through
the
valley
towards
Azau
village.
Niall
trips
twice
on
the
rocks
but
the
damage
is
limited
to
a
bloody
hand
and
a
bruised
knee.
When
we
arrive
at
the
cable
car
station
we
meet
the
Americans
again.
They
made
an
acclimatization
hike
to
3800m
which
went
well.
Just
Phil,
the
oldest
and
most
experienced
of
the
lot
seemingly
forgot
his
sunglasses
and
now
suffers
from
snow
blindness.
We
are
told
that
also
the
first
part
of
the
cable
car
will
be
stopped
for
maintenance;
it
covers
the
first
boring,
hot
and
dusty
part
of
the
trail
and
as
we
don't
feel
like
hauling
up
our
full
packs
over
the
hot
scree
we
readjust
our
plans
and
join
the
group
up.,
leaving
excess
gear
in
the
small
hotel
at
the
station.
At
the
first
station
at
2970m
our
ways
separate;
the
Americans
are
only
carrying
light
daypacks
and
they
continue
quickly
to
the
"Barrels"
a
set
of
huge
oil
drums
that
houses
4
persons
each,
located
at
3800m.
We
take
some
time
to
dress
up
for
the
next
part
next
to
some
Russian
mountaineers
who
happily
celebrate
their
summiting
with
a
bottle
of
champagne.
Slowly
we
continue
up
the
slopes
toward
the
second
cable
station,
"Mir".
Our
packs
are
heavy
and
the
track
steepens,
especially
the
last
snow
slope
before
Mir
where
we
zigzag
up
scares
Saskia.
Guided
by
a
trail
of
empty
Vodka
bottles
dropped
from
the
cablecar
onto
the
snow
we
arrive
around
two
o'clock
at
Mir.
As
the
gondola
is
our
of
service
for
the
next
few
days,
we
decide
to
erect
our
tent
inside
the
station.
To
acclimatize
some
more
('Go
High,
Sleep
low')
we
hike
up
toward
the
Barrels
and
pay
the
Americans
a
visit.
Natascha
serves
us
some
tea
and
just
before
dusk
enters
we
run
down
the
empty
ski
slope
(20minutes!)
between
the
Barrels
and
Mir.
After
a
large
portion
of
Bami
Goreng
with
Falafel
we
feel
the
temperature
dropping
fast
and
we
shiver
ourselves
into
our
tents.
In
the
last
light
of
day
I
had
seen
a
lonely
climber
below
Mir;
it
appears
to
be
a
Russian
who
joins
our
little
camping
spot
making
a
lot
of
noise
before
he
finally
goes
to
sleep.
But
the
Mir
itself
is
the
real
annoying
one
here
as
some
generator
is
making
a
constant
noise
at
an
irritating
frequency
and
I
don't
sleep
much
all
night.
Mir
Station-
Priut
11,
Friday
2nd
July
I'm
not
sure
if
it
is
the
bad
night
or
the
altitude,
but
this
morning
I
don't
feel
too
well.
We
warm
up
our
socks
and
shoes
in
the
first
rays
that
penetrate
Mir's
dirty
windows
and
enter
a
completely
incomprehensible
conversation
with
our
Russian
colleague.
He
doesn't
carry
a
stove
and
is
clearly
happy
with
the
mug
of
hot
tea
we
offer
him.
Fully
packed
we
step
up
to
the
Barrels
where
we
are
welcomed
by
the
stereotypical
signs
of
snowboarders:
Loud
grunge
&
house
music!
And
yes,
a
large
group
of
Russian
youngsters
totally
satisfy
the
conditions
for
being
a
non-conformist
snow
lover:
tiny
beards,
shorts
and
volume
at
10.
The
sun
has
improved
the
weather
so
much
that
the
girls
are
tanning
in
their
bikinis
while
we
enter
the
camp
in
our
full
gore-tex!
We
are
pointed
toward
a
well
that
is
dug
out
in
the
snow
where
we
can
refill
our
bottles
with
water.
We
continue
over
the
immense
Gabarashi
glacier
while
every
now
and
then
a
snowboarder
comes
down
via
improvised
ramps
and
jumps.
After
about
an
hour
we
reach
the
sad
remains
of
Priut
11.
This
huge
hut,
once
built
for
scientific
research
even
survived
the
German
invasion,
but
in
the
summer
of
1998
it
burned
down
completely.
A
climber
tried
to
put
out
a
small
fire
in
the
crowded
kitchen
area
with
the
first
liquid
that
was
around.
Unfortunately
it
was
not
water
but
fuel,
a
substance
not
known
for
its
extinguishing
features,
and
soon
all
that
was
left
of
Priut
11
was
a
smoking
steel
frame
and
a
few
brick
walls.
According
to
some
climbers
this
was
actually
a
blessing
for
the
mountain
as
it
was
no
fun
place
to
be
due
to
the
enormous
smell
rising
from
toilets
and
trash
dump
in
the
back…
We
lunch
in
the
ruins
but
soon
discover
that
there
are
no
nice
camping
spots
and
walk
across
the
snowfield
to
the
parallel
rock
ridge.
There
are
two
little
emergency
shelters
and
a
few
good
spots
where
our
tents
will
be
happy.
We
can
feel
the
altitude
now,
especially
Niall
and
I
have
no
appetite
and
we
just
take
some
soup
to
hydrate;
my
headache
returns
and
while
the
tents
start
to
flap
in
the
upcoming
wind
I
can't
wait
to
go
to
sleep.
Priut
11-
Azau,
Saturday
3
July
According
to
plan
the
cable
cars
are
running
again
and
as
we
are
in
no
hurry
we
decide
to
spend
a
night
in
the
small
hostel
near
the
Azau
cable
station
in
the
valley.
We
stuff
everything
in
Niall's
tent
and
walk
down
the
glacier
towards
the
Barrels
where
the
Americans
tell
us
that
they
will
try
to
summit
this
night.
Even
the
chairlift
between
Barrels
and
Mir
is
working
and
we
hop
on.
When
we
arrive
at
Mir
we
cannot
believe
our
eyes:
we
see
a
few
beautiful
Russian
women
suffering
half
naked
in
the
cold
snow
for
a
bathing
suit
report!
Anyway,
at
least
this
mountain
is
not
boring…
After
arguing
with
a
few
lift
attendants
about
the
validity
of
our
lift
ticket
we
arrive
in
Azau
where
we
decide
to
free
some
of
the
local
outdoor
shopkeepers
from
some
food:
"4
schaslicks,
2
cola,
a
Fanta
and
2
pancakes
please!"
Totaling
to
152
Rubles
it's
quite
a
feast
for
a
few
bucks
and
after
taking
a
shower
and
crawling
into
a
soft
bed
mountaineering
in
Russia
doesn't
seem
to
be
that
hard
anymore…
Azau
-
Priut
11,
Sunday
4th
of
July
At
8
we
enjoy
a
Russian
breakfast:
a
kind
of
meatball
with
cabbage,
bread,
cheese,
butter,
tea
and
lemonade,
very
good!
After
a
refill
of
all
of
our
bottles
we
buckle
up
and
enter
the
cable
car
that
is
now
completely
filled
with
Russians
that
come
to
see
the
mountain
for
the
weekend,
in
their
training
suits
and
armed
with
big
old
cameras.
It's
only
10
when
we
jump
out
of
the
chairlift
at
Barrels
where
we
use
the
despicable
excuse
of
'
we
already
did
this
part,
with
full
packs!'
to
charter
a
snowcat
that
will
take
us
close
to
Priut
11
for
just
50
Rubles.
15
Russians
take
their
chance
and
hop
aboard
without
chipping
in
as
it
is
going
anyway.
So
before
it
is
even
11
o'clock
we
are
back
on
our
camping
spot
where
5
Russian
men
with
large
bottles
of
beer
tell
us
that
they
are
rescue
rangers
and
that
we
are
not
allowed
to
sleep
in
their
cabins
("except
the
woman").
We
don't
care
as
we
have
our
tents,
but
a
few
minutes
later
it
is
clear
that
for
$5
each
we
can
sleep
there
if
we
want,
but
we
prefer
our
own
material.
We
are
not
the
only
one
as
soon
every
campable
spot
is
covered
with
Russian
tents
from
people
who
want
to
conquer
Elbrus
in
the
weekend;
this
also
explains
the
sudden
presence
of
the
rangers,
it
seems
that
many
people
have
to
be
taken
down
as
they
underestimate
this
giant.
We
take
it
easy
but
around
15.00
we
head
out
for
an
acclimatization
hike
to
the
Pastukhov
rocks
at
4800m.
On
the
way
we
encounter
Gleb
and
the
Americans
who
are
returning
from
the
summit,
totally
beat.
Everybody
made
the
summit
on
their
independence
day
but
they
admit
to
have
taken
a
snowcat
in
the
morning
all
the
way
from
the
Barrels
to
the
base
of
the
rocks
at
4600m;
the
last
1000
vertical
kilometers
took
them
another
9
hours.
We
continue
toward
the
rocks,
each
in
our
own
pace
and
an
hour
and
a
half
later
arrive
at
4800m,
just
as
high
as
the
Mont
Blanc,
the
highest
point
of
the
European
Alps.
We
feel
quite
ok
and
descend
satisfied.
A
sudden
incoming
cloud
treats
us
to
one
of
Elbrus'
famous
whiteouts,
but
we
manage
to
find
our
tent
back.
In
the
evening
it
starts
to
snow
and
hail:
back
to
bed.
|
