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SERGUEY SIPAROV
(SAINT PETERSBURG)
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RUSSIAN VACATIONS
(Trilogy)
(www.so-znanie.nm.ru) |
In this essay I
am going to present the three stories of mountaineering - the way it
could take sometimes in Russia. First of them is about the 1989
climb on the Korjenevskaya peak, Pamirs, second is about the 1998
climb on the McKinley mountain (or as it is called now, Denali
peak), Alaska, the third is about the 2002 ascent on the Kilimanjaro
mountain, Africa. All of them were performed not by professional
climbers, but by those who just like mountains and have some
experience in tramping. The first two were done by the team of four:
Igor Gornushkin, Sergey Buldyrev, Michail Babich and myself, who
knew each other for years. In the last one I accompanied the
expedition consisting of Victor Boyarsky, the famous traveler who
crossed Greenland and Antarctica on feet as a member of the
international expeditions, the Director of Arctic Museum and polar
guide, Michail Bobrov, the honorary citizen of St-Petersburg, former
war hero and sportsman, Alexander Brinken, the Secretary of Russian
Geographic Society, Victor Serov, the traveler and polar guide and
Konstantin Antonenko, the businessman.
1.
Korjeneva.
In the year 1988 I worked in the International Mountaineering
Camp on Pamirs as a kitchen-boy. I had had a lot of experience in
tramps in such mountain regions as Caucasus, Pamirs, Altay, but that
year I was absolutely out of money and decided to spend the summer
in a good place and earn something at the same time. The camp was on
the Fortambek glacier, on the Suloev glade, about 3000m above the
sea level. The surrounding scenery was great: Piter the First ridge
in front and the Communism Peak (7495m) to the left with that famous
Ski-jump glacier delivering jumping avalanches every other day.
Opposite the ridge the Korjenevskaya peak (7105m) was seen - a
mighty slanting pyramid of geometrical beauty, it had an 800m wall
facing our camp. In the end of the season it was clear that I had
nothing to do but to come back and climb this Korjeneva, preferably
next summer. By the way, there was some romance behind: Korjenevsky
was a geographer and traveler in the end of the 19-th or in the
beginning of the 20-th century, and his wife Eugenia Korjenevskaya
accompanied him in his expeditions. He took the survey map of the
part of the Pamirs and named the highest peaks of the region. He
gave his own name to the 6900m peak next to the highest peak he saw
which he named after his wife.
When I came
back to Leningrad I told my friends:"Do as you wish, but next year I
am going to Korjeneva". I was not sure of their plans and, besides,
none of us had ever been higher than 5500m. But, of course, they all
wished to go there too. Moreover, Sergey Buldyrev was going to
emigrate to the US and was looking for a place to visit as a final
bang. The wall was a bit too much for us, but the classical ridge
rout (category 5B with the extra category due to the altitude) was
OK. To all these routs we knew that those who climbed there first
had almost nothing but tough guts and some health. And these we
possessed. In December 1988 I went to Dushanbe on a business
trip and made some preliminary steps to organize the helicopter
which would take us to Suloev glade in summer - that is made friends
and drank vodka with a pilot. In July 1989 we were there. The plan
was the following. We were going to make two acclimatization routs:
to spend a night on the White Stone peak (5000m) right above the
glade (there is a huge white stone on the summit with a vertical gap
in it through which one can have a view like through an embrasure)
and then do the same on the Pamirs Firn table (6200m) leading to the
Communism peak (14 long kilometers). And then to Korjeneva. The
ascent on the White Stone which I had visited twice last year with
no problem, this time appeared to be sheering hell for me. I was
moving like a sleep-walker and had to give direct and severe orders
to my body to perform every step. When I finally managed to get to
the top, the tent was already ready and the stove was heating snow
for the meal. No appetite, I made myself drink some tea and eat a
biscuit. Then crawled into the tent. Soon all the guys were there
too, and we tossed and turned preparing to sleep. Suddenly, I
brushed against my nose, and it started bleeding hard. It bled and
bled and I had to get out of the tent to put some snow on it. I
guess, I lost about a glass of blood until it stopped. At that
moment I noticed that all the weakness had gone and I felt myself
well as usually. It seems, all this was a high altitude effect when
the blood changes its viscosity and produces problems for the heart.
This caused the weakness. But now there was less blood to pump
through, and the heart coped with it. The night was fine, and then
we dropped down to spend a rest day on the glade. That summer
the weather was awful. Just to mention that out of 110 foreign
climbers who were in the Fortambek International Mountaineering Camp
that year, 90 didn't managed to ascend. During the rest day it was
snowing hard, and in the evening we made a snow woman. Sculpturing
all the gender details, we giggled enjoying ourselves at rest. This
angered the Gods, and the storm in the following night nearly teared
our tent to shreds. Since then I renounced such sculpture affairs.
The next day
we started to the Burevestnik ridge to get to the Firn table. The
ascent was not difficult but tiresome. When we were just under the
Verbliud (Camel) lodgings the weather proved itself again. The wind
and snow made us stop and put the tent on the small and narrow ridge
- the only place to put a tent on. Part of the tent was drooping
down the precipice but the tent was still a good home and we spent a
good night. The next day was no good at all. The wind was roaring,
the snow was continuously on and we could not proceed. Several
climbers who spent the night in the Verbliud camp passed us going
down and we waved good-bye to them. The next day was a bit better,
but only a bit. When we set out in the morning and reached the
Verbliud camp, all the rest of the climbers who were there at that
time were preparing to descend. When we said that we were going up
they looked at us as at crazies. No wonder. All of them were
equipped like all those guys in the sport magazines, while we were
in self-made clothes and had the old fashioned gear. Yes, we knew
how to use all those crampons, ice-axes and ropes, but it was hard
to believe it looking at us. The only team also going up consisted
of Vladimir Balyberdin and his companion who were the guides of two
Korean climbers. That inspired us and we started to climb changing
places with Balyberdin's team from time to time. In several hours we
were on the table, put the tent and made a tea earlier than
Balyberdin and his Korean (two others went down half the way to the
Firn table). It was an honor to invite Bal to our tent to have some
tea. Five-o-clock in the mountains. The Korjenevskaya peak was in
several kilometers just in front and we observed it with hope. Three
kilometers down the Suloev glade with tiny spots of tents was seen
in the mist. The next day we descended to the glade and the second
stage was over. To get to the Korjeneva foot one has to go a long
way down the Fortambek glacier and cross it. After the days rest we
did so and found ourselves in a picturesque place on the moraine
near the small creek coming from under the ice. Some green plants
were also seen and this was like a warm farewell. Next day the
ascent began. That day was unusually hot and it was rather hard to
go. We managed to get to the 5200m camp and spent a night there.
Surprisingly, there was a problem with water although the camp was
on the snow. This place is very suitable for lodging, and since
there usually are many groups spending night there, the ecology of
the place is very, very poor. In the morning we continued the climb.
In the beginning it was a steep part with deep snow on it, and we
had to move forward in the snow to the waist. In the end it was
another famous camp point - a horizontal gap in the rock - where
several groups stayed. Nobody dared to go because of the misty
weather promising wind and snow again. At first we had some doubts
about what to do, really, the avalanche situation was dangerous, but
finally we decided to proceed. On the ascent we traversed a couple
of crevices ready to drop the avalanches, and I silently prayed. In
the end of the rise (at 6200m) there was a small bulkhead with place
enough for a tent to stay. It was not late but we decided to stop
there and to get up early next morning for the final burst. In the
evening that day we were visited by the head of the sport staff of
the Moskvina International Mountaineering Camp, who was leading his
group from the summit which they had reached that day. We gave him
some tea and he stood a treat of four apples. Tasty they were in
that freezing and rarified air. We started at 6 a.m. It was still
dark and misty. At first there was a couple of steep steps not easy
to overcome, but then the slope became more slant and we moved along
breathing hard. We had to do so for 8 kilometers horizontally and
gain a vertical kilometer more. On the route there were several
dangerous places falling from which led to the wall we saw from the
glade, but we managed to pass them safely. The main thing was to
make oneself go, since every step needed four inhales and four
exhales and the consciousness was as misty as the surroundings. On
the halfway Misha said that he could not go further, and we decided
that he would return to our camp on the bulkhead. Two hours later
the thunderstorm began. The air was full of electricity, the small
lightnings stroke the ridge we were ascending. I felt the electric
stroke along my body twice and Igor whose windbreaker was synthetic
had it more. Serega was 40 or 50 meters ahead of us, but still we
all moved too slowly. It was already 4 p.m., we saw the summit, we
were at 7000m because the Korjenevskiy peak (6900m) was already
below, but there was not less than an hour to reach the top.
Suddenly, Igor sat down and said there was a sharp pain in his
stomach. We had to return. What a problem it was to shout to get
Serega hear us. At last he turned back and returned to us. "Igor,
can you move?". "Not fast". We went down. Two hundred meters lower
the pain stepped back. Soon we were at our tent totally exhausted.
Misha had made some tea and compote. It was such a relief. Though
such a defeat. I went aside to piss and saw a red spurt leaking out
of me. Dehydration? The night was really cold. We pressed to
each other in our common sleeping bag. At 3 a.m. I scrambled out of
the tent. Jesus! The weather was good! I saw the Communism peak on
the opposite side of the valley and the other mountains around. The
frost was biting but this promised some hope for the weather next
day. Suddenly, I felt absolutely sure that next day we would ascend.
I crawled back and wakened Igor. "The weather is fine, we will do
it". We started at 6 again. This time the rout was not new, and
all the four of us moved faster. The weather was not so fine as we
hoped, but still it was better than yesterday. At 4 p.m. we were on
the top. Taking shots we laughed: no way to prove you are on the
Korjeneva summit, only white mist around. Still, we were there. The
descent was dangerous. Feeling that everything is already behind, we
went quickly, paying little attention to the dangerous places with
800m fall. In one of them my foot slipped, I fell head forward and
hardly managed to stop with the help of the ice-axe. Third night on
the bulkhead was a celebration.
In the
morning the sun was shining. We went down, again through these awful
crevices full of ready to go avalanches, again I prayed crossing
them, again we passed the Gap, again this friable deep snow, down,
down, down. On the way we met the climbers who were in a hurry to
use the weather to go up. Oh, how hard they breathed! Poor devils.
How lightly we breathed gulping that air that became thicker with
every step down. In the evening we were on the same moraine with the
green grass. Unbelievable. Sipping warm air, eating hot soup,
drinking cold compote. We talked of future, and Serega, who was
going to the US, said: "See you on McKinley!". We laughed heartily.
Good joke. It was time then, when even to think of going abroad was
impossible, to say nothing of some Alaska, known only from Jack
London's books. We returned to the Suloev glade and began
waiting for the helicopter to come. Mind, that we didn't pay for it.
My pilot friend took us here together with some group who ordered
the chopper. When will he come now? Not far from us there was
Balyberdin's team. They didn't manage to ascend - Korea is not a
climbing country. They were also waiting for the chopper, which THEY
payed for. In a day or two it came. Its propeller was still rotating
when a guy jumped out of it and ran in our direction. Bal and his
Koreans took their stuff and intended to move towards the chopper.
We stood timidly aside. "Where is Siparov and three with him?" cried
the guy. "Here we are!" cried we overjoyed. Bal was astonished. What
the hell?! This is THEIR chopper by all means. Who argues? There
appeared to be room enough for both teams, and the pilot is the boss
there. Bal, being a Soviet, smiled, Koreans didn't understand
anything, we took our seats. On the way back we flew in parallel to
the small AN-2 plane heading to Dushanbe. Having boarded the jet to
Leningrad, we flew near the Pamirs. Everything was in the clouds
again. Only the Korjeneva peak, the pyramid of which we knew so
well, and the Communism peak sticked out beside each other.
2.
McKinley
The time went on, Serega went to America, found a job in the
University, his position became solid. Writing letters to each
other, we still ended them with "See you on MacKinley", but for
years it remained a joke. In 1993 Igor went to America too. Since it
was not him who pronounced this joke, he for some time was out of
this play. But in several years it suddenly turned out that we could
take it seriously. I started saving money. Serega learned all the
details. The preliminary plan was for 1997, but that time there
appeared some job problems and we postponed it for a year. Those
Americans are tough guys and make money out of everything. You can't
get to McKinley without being approved by the rangers and without
buying a permit. To say nothing of the plane to the glacier. No
haliava at all. Still, all this is a small amount in comparison to
the air tickets. But. Igor and Serega lived in the US, Misha worked
abroad from time to time and earned something there. And my job
permited me (demanded!) to visit some distant places in Russia. Like
Magadan. Which is much closer to Alaska, than St-Petersburg.
Therefore, I can fly to Magadan and back for free, and only
Magadan-Anchorage flight is left. Thus, the money problem is
solvable. We met in Anchorage in June, 1998. Misha flew from
St-Petersburg to New York and then to Boston, where Serega lives.
Then they flew to Anchorage together. Igor flew from Florida. I went
in the opposite direction to Magadan and met them all in Anchorage.
Four ants on the globe. Here we are. We had to spend the night
in the Anchorage International airport. Seats aside, common sleeping
bag out on the floor, nobody mentions. Good people. In the morning
the car came and took us to Talkeetna - a small village where the
expeditions start. A visit to rangers. The rout up the Kaheeltna
glacier full of crevasses on the large TV screen. Civilization. Lots
of stuff, mostly food, to be packed and transported to the Kaheeltna
camp (2200m) by plane. We expect 20 days to fulfill the expedition.
The average time it takes to climb McKinley (6200m) and descent to
Kaheeltna camp is two weeks, but we are planning to return to
Talkeetna by feet and have a look at Alaskan tundra. There are
two main problems with McKinley. First is crevasses, that is why the
ascent can be undertaken only in June, when there still are snow
bridges on the glacier. Second is cold, the mountain is inside the
Polar circle, and that is why there is a lack of oxygen which is a
heavy gas and, therefore, moves towards the equator due to
centrifugal force. Actually, from the oxygen point of view McKinley
is 700m higher than its geographical altitude. We are not so afraid
of cold - thanks to Kola peninsula and Ural winter experience, but
the thin air remains. I flew first with the gear on a small
Cessna plane and managed to put the tent before the others come.
This time it's not a self-made tent, but a professional one bought
by Serega (the rangers would have not let us in without a decent
tent!). The rangers on the glacier supply us with snow-shoes to
cover 25 miles up the glacier. But Misha rejects the shoes, he has
brought his forest skies with him - and he is an experienced skier -
and saves $35. They also give us sledges to drag our gear
behind. In the evening - it's almost the same as in the morning
for we still have problems with the time shift and it's a polar day
here - we are ready to start. Suddenly, a German guy comes up and
asks us to click him to our rope. He is making a solo ascent, but
going solo through all these crevasses is too dangerous and
senseless. He will leave us in the upper camp. OK, we go. Two days
of going through the cloud filling the glacier valley. No reference
points on the snow but the small rods marking the rout. Until you
find a rod your eyes defocus and when you find one, you see two of
them first and only then mange to focus them into one. Unpleasant
feeling. Thanks God, it is not so cold due to this cloud and the
wind is not very strong. Every day we meet people going down. On the
third day we heard the helicopter engines roaring far away near the
summit. What did they do there? Then we get to the camp 3300m
where the snow-shoes will be left and will wait for us. In front of
us is the edge of the Western Buttress which is our rout to the top.
There is a lot of groups going up and down. This is just a climbing
industry. Nothing like what we were used to. One feels oneself as on
an excursion. Yes, there is cold and snow and you have to know how
to survive and how to climb. But everything is under control. Safety
is an American God. The ecology is beyond any praise too. You have
to collect your shit in the plastic bag, show it to the rangers, and
then throw it into a specially chosen crevasse. No kidding. So,
there is lots of spare pure snow around. Next day the way
becomes steeper. We use crampons to climb to the next - base camp,
4200m, a broad snow valley on the glacier. The critical point is
Windy Corner - the very edge of the ridge. Fortunately, the wind is
weak. In case it is strong it could easily wind you a dozen meters
down the shining icy slope into the waiting crevasse. Turning over
this corner we get to the place with different climate. It is really
cold now. When we put our tent, it is about -30C in the street, and
cooking (and heating) in the tent is impossible: the air becomes
unbearable. Next day is a rest day. The sun is shining. Foreign
climbers visit us, talking, observing with surprise our gear - again
we (mostly Misha and me) are definitely out of date. His sunglasses
were presented to him by his grandfather who used them when he was
young, mine were presented to me by Igor, they are the special
glasses to work with lasers which are very convenient since I wear
specs. We both use galoshes to protect our mountain shoes which are
of low quality. Some Koreans (again Koreans!) shoot us with their
video cameras and giggle. Come on, guys! The rangers tell us what
was all these helicopters about. Three days ago the Britain
expedition lost three members during the ascent. There is a place
near the top where the wrong step brings you to the Eastern Express
- fall down for 600-700 meters. Two of them were found by the
rangers and evacuated, one was not. Next day we ascent to the
ridge, 5000m, to get some height acclimatization, and come back. And
the next day we start to the top. When we get to the ridge this time
the wind is blowing hard, and it is cold there again. We go and go,
the rope connecting us presents the arcs strictly horizontal due to
the wind. At last we get to the upper camp, 5200m. In the
morning we somehow are not in a hurry. On the slope leading to
Denali Pass from which the way to the summit begins, there are 10
tiny figures of those, who have already started. Finally, we start
too. A Polish guy whom his partners left in the camp because of his
sickness makes a farewell shot. It's cold and windy again. When we
approach the Pass we meet those who have started earlier. They have
turned back and are descending. Too strong a wind. We are alone on
the mountain. The last rest in a decent place - a small cave in the
rocks. Now - only snow. When we come to the place where the Eastern
Express begins, it becomes clear what is the trick. There is a turn
over there just on the edge. If there is no sun, there is no
shadows, again the same as it was on the Kaheeltna glacier. So easy
is to make a wrong step! Fortunately, the sun is shining now. We
proceed the ascent falling on the snow from time to time to have
some rest. Now the Football Field - a broad place to cross, now is
the steep ascent, and we approach a narrow edge - about 50 meters
long and 30 centimeters wide. Classical thing - like that in the
text books on alpinism: if one falls to the left his neighbor has to
jump to the right. To the right no bottom is seen under the clouds,
to the left it is seen, and this way though definitely traumatic is
maybe not lethal. But it is surely long - several hundred meters. We
pass the edge safely and ascend the summit. Farewell to McKinley
dream, here we are. Far to the east beyond the clouds but beneath
our level the jet plane passes by.
The descend to the upper camp and fall asleep. All these
days we ate very little, something appeared to be wrong with the
menu. We drank rather little too. All the climbers do not part with
the bottles with water. Good for them. Next day we descend to 3300m
camp, and next we go further down. Again those clouds. Finally, we
penetrate them through and find ourselves in the lower part of the
Kaheeltna glacier. This time we manage to have a look at the
surroundings. It doesn't resemble any mountains I know of. Maybe it
resembles the Moon surface. Not a sign of life. The scales are
characteristic for Pamirs, though the mountains look more like
Caucasian. Serega and me take snow baths. Igor and Misha are
pessimistic about it. Contrary to the feeling I had when we
descended from Korjeneva (and then I felt that I had acquired
something), now I feel that I have lost something. When we
approach the base camp 2200m, the girl-ranger comes out of the rocks
and shouts:"What company?". You know what she meant? What company we
took to fly here. She had to know it to send a radio to the pilot to
take us to Talkeetna. We decided not to go back by feet, since there
wasn't snow enough and we would lose time curling between crevasses.
So, we flew back. It took us ten days for the round
trip.
3.
Kilimanjaro
What could be
the next plan? How else could we spent our vacations? Parting in the
Anchorage airport and drinking vodka, we thought that it would be
probably good, when all of us are retired, drift on a raft across
some ocean. Not bad idea. Too long to wait. The time moved on
again. With Serega's help I managed to earn some money in America to
spend it in Russia. In autumn 2001 there appeared a plan to go to
Akoncagua, Argentina, on Christmas 2002. This is the highest point
in South America, by the way. But the hell! Who has any doubts that
we will manage it? Again all those excursions. Yes, the company is
good. Yes, the mountain is high. Yes, it's in the Southern
Hemisphere where I have not been and even am not sure that it
exists. And it is so expensive, and rather little money left!
Doubtful, doubtful. Only in case there is a new grant. On the
June evening I came home from my job, dined in the kitchen, smoked
and read a newspaper. The radio mumbled something. Suddenly a voice
said: "And now our guest Victor Boyarsky will tell you about his
plans". I put the newspaper away. I knew Victor years ago when we
both worked at the "North Pole" drifting station, and now he was a
famous polar traveler. The familiar voice that had not changed said:
"We are going to fulfill a "7+" plan dedicated to the 300
anniversary of St-Petersburg. That is to ascend 7 highest mountains
of the continents and reach the North Pole on skies. In 5 days our
expedition is ready to fly to Kilimanjaro, the main thing, that is
the yellow fever vaccination, is done. The details can be obtained
by the phone…". My Lord! OK, I am through with Kilimanjaro, it's a
pity, but maybe I can get in touch with this company in future.
McKinley experience could be useful and I remain in the ranks up to
now. I called him next day and we met. After a talk, I told him all
that. "Why! Come now with us to Kili", he said. "Is it not too late?
I have not got this fever shot and what about the visa?". "Just say
you go, and I'll send you to the hospital and arrange the hotel for
you there. As to the visa, there are 3 days left. Why not go to
Moscow to get it or just learn if you could get it on the border?".
So it happened.
The right
impression of Kili one can get from the plane, the direct flight
from Amsterdam to Kilimanjaro airport. It's a solitary mountain on
the plain. A volcano, by the way. Like those one can see at
Kamchatka, but with a crater 5 kilometers wide. The solitary
mountain produces a different impression from all the other
mountains. And besides, which is not the least important, this
Kilimanjaro is a cultural reference of my youth. The snows, the
leopard… Like visiting childhood dreams. But if you visit it to
have some tramping/climbing, you should know something beforehand.
This mountain is a National Park and is the main hard currency
resource for Tanzania, and that's why it is strictly guarded by the
armed rangers and only fixed paths can be used to walk there. For
two days we went up, first through the rainy jungles (with monkeys),
then through alpine meadows full of flowers. No tents. There are
sites with wood houses and sun batteries and dining huts where you
will get the regular (though partly African) food. From the site
3800m, we made an acclimatization trip and on the next day moved to
the last camp at 4800m. All the way there is a good road, no snow,
it's warm and it's not difficult to breath. Remember that oxygen
that the polar McKinley lost? Here it was now as an extra portion.
We started at midnight. The ascent is no problem, it is just a
talus. Of course, one has to have some health, but not too much.
After a kilometer ascent, we got to the crater ridge and went to the
left to reach the highest point which is 5895m. At the dawn we were
there and met the rising sun at the 3-rd degree of southern latitude
and on the highest point of Africa. The crater is huge. There is
some snow on this side of it, though we have not touched it, and
there is a lot of it on the opposite side. A picturesque view. No
leopard neither here, nor there, nobody of the locals ever heard of
it. News in blues. In the evening we were back in 3800m camp.
Next day we left the Park. I took a stone from the top. They say one
can see it in the special labyrinth built of stones from all over
the world in St-Petersburg University's back yard.
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