James Stone (Clach Liath)

Mountaineering and the Volcanic Seven Summits

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Archives for October 2016

Sgurr Dhomnhuill

9th October 2016 by James Stone Leave a Comment

The previous day Jet and I had walked a superb horseshoe route down in Morvern (Creach Bheinn and co).  We then spent the night at an almost deserted campsite in Strontian, well positioned for this climb.  Sgurr Dhomnhuill is the highest peak in Ardgour.

We were up promptly.  I had to shake down a dew covered tent which I then did not bother to try to stuff back in its bag.  I prepared myself some porridge and had a flapjack.  The weather was stunning.  The sheet of high grey cloud that had been present the previous day was gone.  In its place there was an almost cloudless blue sky.

From the Strontian side there are a couple of places where this climb can start.  The first is from a Forestry Commission car park at Ariundle just a couple of kilometres up the glen.  The second is to go a further 4 kilometres up to a high point on the road and to tackle Sgurr Dhomhnuill along its west ridge.  The latter route has some mild scrambling near the end.  With the dog I therefore decided on the former option.

The Forestry Commission car park is large and ours was the only car there as we left at around 8.15am.  The walk up through the ancient oak woodlands was a delight.  Sunlight dappled the ground.  The leaves on the trees were just starting to turn and a track eased the gradient as we gradually gained height.

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There are a number of low level walks here and part of the woodland is a National Nature Reserve.

We ignored a couple of side paths and passed through a couple of gates.  The vehicle track became a path but the walk remained a delight.  Just before we emerged from the woodland, we crossed a rickety bridge over the Allt Ruighe Spardail, a bright sparkly flow on this morning.

Ahead the interest continued.  Sgurr Dhomnhuill came into view, still disconcertingly far away.

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And the reason for the good track.  The remains of lead mine workings are to be found up here.  Their presence will gradually merge into the landscape.  But for the moment the spoil heaps remain as testament to man’s intrusion into this environment.

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Now choose your route.  The target is the west ridge of Druim Leac a’Sgiathain (a bit of a tautology as Druim means ridge in Gaelic).  You can either cross the stream at the first workings, or there is a path (occasionally boggy, but clear) that follows the stream up higher.  In either case there is a kilometre or so of fairly rough, boggy terrain to cover before the ridge becomes more delineated.  I chose the latter (which might be a necessary option of the stream is in spate in any event).

As you get higher you make your way around craglets and on the ridgeline a path begins to form.  The ridge undulates and there are good views to the neighbouring Corbetts of Sgurr a’Charrainn and Beinn na h-Uamha.

The next target was Sgurr na h- Ighinn, a significant top.  It is possible to by-pass this top on its north-west side.  This we duly did, following deer tracks before dropping down to the col between it and Sgurr Dhomnhuill.  Here is Jet before the traverse with Sgurr Dhomnhuill behind.

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And then a view back along the ridge with a distant Garbh Bheinn (the highest point hereabouts).

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We stopped at the col for something to eat.  There is a final climb of just shy of 200m from here.  There was a slight breeze here.  But it was pleasant looking at the views to the north-east.  Familiar mountains, some not visited for many, many years took on a different aspect from this viewpoint.  But there was no doubting the sight of Ben Nevis, standing proud of everything around it and with its own cap of cloud.

After 15 minutes we set off up.  I was feeling good even after the previous day’s exertions.  The climb went quickly with some weaving around rocky sections.  The view from the top was just stunning as might be expected from this (in UK terms) super prominent peak.

Here is Ben Nevis.

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Now zoomed.

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Garbh Bheinn zoomed in the opposite direction.

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The view to the north-west including a faint Skye.

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And here is a video panorama that I took.

It was too good to leave.  So we didn’t!  We had some more to eat as I took in the views.  I saw two people on Sgurr na h-Ighinn.  40 minutes later they had joined me on the summit.  They were as enthusiastic at the views.  The corries were echoing with the sounds of the rut.  It was now towards the end of the season and, being a Sunday, the deer were safe today from the stalker’s cross hairs.

We left them to lunch after a chat.  They had the Creach Bheinn walk planned for the next day.  We were soon down at the col and I decided not to avoid Sgurr na h-Ighinn on the way back.  It was a good move because the top here is an equally good viewpoint.  Sgurr Dhomnhuill is particularly fine from here.

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The entrance to Loch Leven could be seen with Ballachulish Bridge with Bidean nam Bian and the Buachaille behind.

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And there was Ben Nevis again.

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It was then back the way we had come.  I aimed to a point slightly further up the stream to reduce the distance over the rough ground.  It was not actually too bad and the stream crossing was easy.

There was a smattering of a path, quite muddy at this point.  We met an elderly couple with a pair of dogs, one quite young.  They were out looking for deer.  I did wonder later whether they might have been the estate owners.  We had a bit of a natter about the deer and where I had been.  And then it was back to the yomp to the car.

The light picked out the mine workings in a slightly different way.

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The woodland was as delightful as before.

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And we were back at the car by 3.30pm.

Morvern meandering

8th October 2016 by James Stone Leave a Comment

The areas of Morvern, Ardgour and Moidart lie in a wild area on the west coast of Scotland.  They are moated by Lochs Linnhe and Eil and by the sea.  Land access is from the north along the road to Skye.  Though coming from the south, as I did, it is possible to take the Corran Ferry across the Loch Linnhe narrows just north of Ballachulish.

Because there are no Munros in these areas Morvern, Ardgour and Moidart tend to be slightly less frequented by hill walkers even though the honeypot of Glencoe is not far away if the ferry is taken.  My first hill walking visit, to Moidart, was just last year.  Jet and I then did a short backpacking trip over two days including a summit camp in great June weather.  Before then, many years ago, I had visited Ardnamurchan Point (which is the furthest westerly point on the mainland of Britain) with the rest of the family whilst staying at self-catering accommodation opposite Fort William– but that has been about it.

So I felt it was about time for a further explore.  I was also doing this because there are (for the UK at least) some fairly prominent hills here that I was interested in, over 600m in fact, and it would be useful for my general fitness in preparation for my Antarctica visit.

So first in early October I did a wonderful horseshoe walk covering Beinn na Cille, Fuar Bheinn and Creach Bheinn, the last of these being the highest at 853m.  With a sea level start the total round involves around 1,430m (4,000ft) of ascent.

The start point is Glengalmadale and there is a plenty of parking by the bridge over the river.  The road down from the junction with the Strontian road is quite exciting in places – just a car’s width and teetering over the sea on one side.  I spent that section hoping that I would not meet a vehicle coming the other way.  It would not have been fun trying to reverse on that road as there was a distinct lack of passing places.

Dropping down to Glenglamadale there was a sign by the road indicating that I was entering the Glengalmadale Estate and that stalking activities were likely to be occurring.  So I tried both numbers given on the sign but only got through to voicemail.  Oh well, I had tried!  Jet and I would just have to duck any passing bullets.

We were soon ready, under the suspicious gaze of a lady from one of the nearby cottages.  We crossed the bridge and carried on a short way along the road towards an obvious plantation.  Here we made our way up steep, rough ground.  It would have been much worse in wet weather.  Plants of various descriptions attempted to catch my ankles or hide rocky traps.  I was soon working up a bit of a sweat.

The slope did not really relent even once we were above the plantation.  The trace of a trail that there had been by the trees disappeared, or I lost it.  I trended to the left to ease the gradient and to avoid a rocky area above.  In the end I probably went too far to the left.

The ground remained rough as we gradually gained height.  The rut was in full swing. The roars of the stags echoed around the hillsides.  We spotted a few hinds.  Jet was uninterested.  The broad ridge line was now up to our right and I made my way in that direction.  Soon after hitting it we were climbing the final slopes to the summit of Beinn nan Cille at 652m.  This hill is a Marilyn which means two things.  First, it falls within another classification of Scottish hills, the Grahams, being hills between 621m and 762m (2,000ft and 2,500ft in old money).  Second, as also required by the Graham classification, it had a prominence of at least 150m (or 500ft or near enough).  Therefore we were going to lose a lot of height before tackling the next hill.

Above us there was a sheet of thickish grey cloud which made the light flat.  But there was not much of a wind and the views were still good.

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This was the view looking south over the entrance to Loch Linnhe and towards Mull with Jet blending into the background.  Next is the view onwards towards the second hill of the day, Fuar Bheinn at 766m.

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And finally across the trench of Glenglamadale towards a distant Ben Nevis and, nearby, the ridge we would later be using for our descent.

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So we did not stay long and started our descent towards the col with Fuar Bheinn.  About 100m before we reached it, a lone stag came up from the west.  He hesitated on the col and looked up towards us.  We had stopped to look at it.  Jet was quite curious but did not move.  After 30 seconds or so of mutual eye-balling, the stag continued on his way down into Glenglamadale.

The 200m of vertical ascent up to Fuar Bheinn (Cold Hill) went by in short order.  The views were no better here as some of the seascape was lost, but it was nice looking towards Creach Bheinn and, behind it, Garbh Bheinn (the highest peak around here).

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The way on from Fuar Bheinn required us to swing around to the north-west in order to avoid very steep ground on the direct route.  Then we descended east to reach the bealach.  This bealach is supposed to be boggy, but after the dry autumn it was not bad at all.  There was then another 200m climb up to the summit of Creach Bheinn (Hill of Plunder) at 853m.  This hill has a prominence of 755m.  With prominence tends to come good views.

Here is a view of the way we had come on the final rise to this summit.

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Ben Cruachan rose in the murky distance to the south east.

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Garbh Bheinn and slightly more distant Sgurr Dhomhnuill lay to the north.

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And Ben Nevis was not so far away.  On the horizon to the west, Mull, Rum and (just about) Skye could be made out.  So throughout 360 degrees there was a vista of mountains and lochs.  We enjoyed this whilst consuming some lunch.

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I had noted that there is a feature marked “Camp” on the Ordnance Survey map.  In the dip immediately to the east of the summit there are remains of walls of what was a “Coby Camp”.  These were buildings used by the OS map makers of the 19th century.  The remains were obvious.

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Another climb took us up to a subsidiary top, Maol Odhar, where its cairn was festooned with some plane wreckage from a USAF F-101 that exploded over the mountain in 1964.

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Now we descended the ridge on the other side of the horseshoe making sure we did not get drawn down the south-east ridge.  There were still sheep high up.  They scattered as we went by.  And we saw more deer, but heard no gunshots.  The ridge was bumpy over Meall nan Each (Hill of the Horse) and a myriad of other knolls.

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A path we were following disappeared into the bracken that clothed the lower slopes.  Before then, Jet took the opportunity of taking a quick dip.

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We battled down through the bracken back to the car.  A round of just over 6 hours.  The following day we would tackle another prominent peak, Sgurr Dhomhnuill in Ardgour.

Climbing Mount Elbrus – to Elbrus

1st October 2016 by James Stone Leave a Comment

We had just the one night in Cheget following our climb of Mukal.  Again we had to sort out gear for the second part of the trip, the attempt on Elbrus.  This time the packing was simpler – we could take everything except anything that we knew we would not need.

We would be able to travel up to our accommodation at around 3800m in cable cars and a chairlift.

The ride in the cable cars required a change at an intermediate station.  At the top station we had to put on extra clothing because the ride on the chairlift would be exposed.  In fact, as we arrived, the chairlift was not working because of the wind.  We faced the prospect of having to carry all our gear for the final 300m vertical distance.  But fortunately the wind died down and we hopped on.

I remembered the cable cars and the chairlift from my last visit.  A new (for me) modern gondola system had been constructed.  It ran parallel to the cable cars that we travelled on.  This system ended a little higher than the chairlift but somewhat away from where we would be based.

Our base was going to be at the Garabashi barrels – barrel number 5 in fact.

The Garabashi barrels

As we arrived, the cloud was down and the air was decidedly raw.  We first settled in.  Adam, Tzvetie, Vladimir and I had barrel 5 to ourselves for the first night although it slept six.  The barrels are basic with beds and lumpy mattresses and pillows.  Electricity is available for a couple of hours each evening when generators are switched on. These provide not only light but also the ability to recharge electrical gadgets.  Strings are strung across the inside of the barrels to enable clothes to be dried.  A small entrance room provides space for gear.  Once each barrel would have had a small kitchen but this facility ceased to exist a while ago.

The location is not particularly attractive and has a slightly industrial feel.  There were electricity pylons behind the kitchen building.

The kitchen building at the Garabashi Huts, Elbrus
The kitchen building at the Garabashi Huts, Elbrus

More huts (and pylons) covered neighbouring rocky areas.

The next task, before lunch, was to do a short acclimatisation walk.  In less than promising weather we climbed up 350m or so to just above the site of the old Priutt 11 hut.  I had stayed in this hut back in 1996 on my previous visit to Elbrus.  Just a couple of years later it burnt down when a cooker was knocked over.  The hut has never been replaced, though the old generator building that serviced it has been converted into accommodation.  I think we were all glad to descend again.  The weather had been windy and dark clouds scudded overhead.  The twin tops of Elbrus were hidden as was the view across the Baksan valley in the opposite direction.

We had a good lunch.  In fact, the food at the barrels was very good considering the location.  Fresh food is regularly delivered via the cable car/chairlift system.  In addition to usual climbers’ fare of soups and stews there was salad and fruit.

The next day we had a much longer acclimatisation walk.  We would go up to the top of Pastukhov’s Rocks at around 4800m.  This is the normal routine on Elbrus to enable the acclimatisation process to develop.  However, the weather was even worse than the previous day.  The wind was strong and we were climbing in cloud.  Regular showers swept by stinging any exposed flesh with their icy shards.

The first 300m of ascent to where we had been the previous day seemed to pass by quite quickly.  The climb then seemed to drag – not helped by the fact that I was the least strong climber.  There is first a stretch between two bands of rock.  This is followed by a slightly less steep section before the bottom of Pastukhov’s Rocks are reached.  From below, foreshortening seems to indicate that the distances are not great.  This is an illusion.  And as with all stratovolcanoes the slopes are steep.

We stopped for five minutes towards the top of the two bands of rock to eat and drink.  There was little respite from the wind and it was very cold.  We eventually reached the bottom of Pastukhov’s Rocks.  These stretch for about 150m vertical.  I found the final climb up to the top of the Rocks a grind.  I arrived a couple of minutes after the others.  Here we stuffed a bit more food into our mouths.

Normally you would sit up here looking at the views across the Baksan Valley and let the body do its job of growing lots of red blood cells.  Today was not such a day though.

We retreated.  Going down was so much easier.  We passed other parties going up on their acclimatisation climbs.  There were quite a few people about.  Of course, July and August are the peak times for Elbrus ascents.  The weather did clear a bit as we descended.  But the sky was definitely moody.

This was the view across towards the site of the Priutt 11 hut and the generator building.

And the weather was no better as we descended towards the top gondola station.  The mountains on the other side of the Baksan valley glowered under the heavy cloud.

That evening a Dutch guy joined us in our barrel. He was hoping to climb Elbrus without any significant acclimatisation.  The next might he was going to stay in the generator building with a view to attempting the summit the day after that.  We wondered if he would make it.

But what a change a day makes.  The next day was designated a rest and training day.  The training was to be about walking on steep slopes in crampons, use of ice axe to arrest a fall and clipping into fixed ropes.  The three of us deemed that we were familiar with what was required in this respect so we just had the rest instead.  Vladimir was relaxed about this.

Early in the morning we had heard people making their preparations for their summit bids.  The weather was clear.  But not many made the top that day because conditions were extremely windy.  We ourselves had been keeping an eye out on the forecasts.  It had not been looking too hopeful with either low cloud and snow or high winds or both in the predictions.

So we spent the day lazing around and looking up at the slopes and the distant dots of people on their way up or down.

Elbrus' twin summits
Elbrus’ twin summits

The white stuff that you can see over the summits is wind-blown snow and not clouds.  This is the West (main) summit that I had missed out on in 1996.

The west summit of Mount Elbrus
The west summit of Mount Elbrus

And here is the view across the Baksan valley.

Across the Baksan valley
Across the Baksan valley

During the early afternoon, a few climbers who had made the summit came back, looking a bit weather beaten if elated.  A Polish guy and his Chinese wife came by.  They had made it.  We chatted to him and he was keen to show us his video clips of the wild weather on the summit ridge.  His English was good.  I seemed to be the only native English speaker around!

The forecast was looking OK for the next day, the day of our attempt.  But it still looked like it would be quite windy, and cold.

We had prepared our kit for the morning.  A Russian guy and gal now shared our barrel.  She would also climb in the morning.

We had our dinner at 6pm and settled down for some sleep.  Adam would get up at 11.30pm.  He would start from the barrels.  Tzvetie and I would get up at 1.30am and take a snow mobile to Pastikhov’s Rocks.  Before we started we would have breakfast.

It is always the same for me on summit night.  I struggle to sleep.  It comes fitfully and when the time comes to get up I am groggy and wonder why I am doing this and what I have let myself in for.  Adam had disturbed me when he got up and dressed though that was inevitable really.  But I had another snooze after he left.

Tzvetie and I had breakfast in silence consuming our own thoughts as well as porridge and tea.  I did not feel that hungry but managed what was available.  We then went outside and huffed and puffed as we put on crampons, harness and another layer or two.  It was indeed cold and breezy.  I did a final check of my rucksack to check I had everything with me that I needed.

For summit day we had an additional guide.  Vladimir had accompanied Adam.  Tzvetie and I had Maga with us.  Like Vladimir he had ascended Elbrus many, many times.  He led us to the snow mobile and its driver.  We handed over some Euros and carefully mounted the vehicle to avoid our crampons damaging the seat.  Our rucksacks were strapped into a basket on the back and Maga sat on them.  Tzvetie was immediately behind the driver with me in the middle and the subject of a Russian bear hug from behind.

Off we went and we bounced and slid up the slopes.  The air was now even colder.  We passed a few people trudging up the slopes once past the generator hut.  Adam later told us he had seen us go by.  We were deposited at the Rocks after only seven minutes.  The original plan had been to meet Adam here but he was still a little way below.  So Maga lead us off and up.

I had had a dose of diarrhoea the previous evening and my innards were churning away.  I did not feel that great in any event either.  Bobbing head lamps could be seen both above and below us.  A couple of snow cats came down from above.  They had deposited climbers at around 5,000m (the highest that mechanical uplift will normally go).

At 5,000m the trail makes a slight turn to the left and begins a rising traverse beneath the East summit.  About 2/3rds of the way between Pastakhov’s Rocks and the beginning of the traverse there is a partially buried snowcat.  Here we stopped for a brief rest and snack.  It was at this point that Adam and Vladimir caught us up.

We were able to move together as a team.  The slope remained steep.  I concentrated on the ground lit by the halo of my light.  I drifted a little behind Adam and Tzvetie.  By the time we reached the beginning of the traverse, the sky was lit by the rising sun still below the horizon.  I could not tell the time as my watch was buried under the layers of clothing.  Again we had an opportunity to snack.

We then joined a line of climbers.  The gradient on the traverse is no less steep.  The track created by the many feet was clear and wands marked its route every 20m or so.  It was hard work in the thinning air.  Gusts of wind threw spindrift in the face.  But every piece of skin was covered.  I was comfortably warm.  Sometimes the air trapped by my buff became too hot and clammy and I had to pull it down and gasp frigid dry air.

It was hard work.  Maga who was behind me kept nudging me.  I was OK.  I knew I was strong enough but I was obviously not fast enough for him.  Vladimir had estimated 2 to 2½ hours for each leg, i.e. the Rocks to the beginning of the traverse, the traverse to the Saddle and the Saddle to the summit.  We had done the first leg within that time and we ended up doing each leg within Vladimir’s range.  But Russian guides do have a bit of a reputation…

Still, despite a few stops for breathers, only a couple of people overtook me and I overtook a few.  The sun was now up and there were views to the left to the main spine of the Caucasus and over to Georgia.  After around two hours, the slope eased as the traverse now turned slightly to the north and eased down to the Saddle at 5,416m (17,769ft).

Here a number of groups were resting.  We had our first stop since the beginning of the traverse and stayed perhaps 20 minutes.  This was the view back.

At the Saddle between the twin summits of Mount Elbrus
At the Saddle between the twin summits of Mount Elbrus

We had passed an American group with their leader shouting out encouragement.  Here is the way on, a rise slanting up the side of the Western summit, with that American group the nearest “snake”.

At the Saddle

We left our rucksacks and one walking pole each at the Saddle.  We took our ice axes.  The stop and food gave me the necessary impetus.  The route that day avoided the need to clip into fixed ropes.  It was a little more circuitous than the more direct route that is sometimes taken.

We gained good time up the first section seen in the picture above.  At the skyline the route turns left and goes up some steeper ground.  At this point we had a further, brief stop there for water, and a further stop 20 minutes later at the top of the steeper ground.  We were now on the summit plateau.

We had passed people coming down.  Now the ground levelled out a little.  But the energy from the food eaten at the Saddle had gone and I slowed to a crawl.  Tzvetie stormed ahead.  Adam struggled a little ahead of me.  Maga went on with Tzvetie and Vladimir hung back with me.  Still no-one overtook me.

The summit rose ahead along a gentle ridge which formed a part of the ancient crater rim.  There was a final 10m steep rise.  A few people were contemplating it at its foot.  When I arrived I did the same.  There was a narrow trench in the snow up that rise.  I gritted my teeth and almost ran up, my lungs bursting when I arrived at the top.  I spent a moment or two recovering my breath.

And there I was at the top of Europe!  5,462m (18,520ft) and it was 9.52am.  I had attained the sixth of my seven volcanic seven summits, not that I revealed that fact to my companions.  There were handshakes all around.  The summit area was quite crowded.  But I fired off some photos.  First over the summit plateau towards the Eastern summit:

Across the plateau to the east summit of Mount Elbrus
Across the plateau to the east summit of Mount Elbrus

Then one of Tzvetie with Ushba behind:

Next a panorama:

Elbrus panorama
Elbrus panorama

Then a picture to the north east showing a part of the final rise and some climbers contemplating the necessary final effort to reach the top:

Then a view south into Georgia across the main range.  Elbrus is located to the north of the main range.

I was wearing six layers on my top and four layers on my bottom.  Did I say it was cold?!  The keen wind emphasised this.  I could take off my outer mitts for a brief time before my hands felt cold.  Having decided to take a video panorama with my camera, I pressed the button and the camera battery promptly died.  To say that was mildly annoying was an understatement.  Still there was nothing I could do about that.  I shoved the camera back into a pocket in the mid-layers of my clothing.

Then the happy team:

On the summit of Mount Elbrus
On the summit of Mount Elbrus

The guides were now agitating to go back down.  So we duly started our descent.  At the bottom of that final 10m rise a group was wearily looking up to the top, summoning energy for that final bit of effort.  I smiled inwardly as I knew how they felt.

What had taken around two hours to climb from the Saddle to the summit was just 45 minutes on the way back.  Gravity sure helps!

Clouds were beginning to roll in below.

Vladimir took a picture of me back at the Saddle.

Back at the Saddle on Mount Elbrus
Back at the Saddle on Mount Elbrus

We had another opportunity for a snack and drink as we recovered our rucksacks and put our ice axes on the bags.  It was now just a question of plodding wearily down and down.  Here is a shot from the 5,000m mark before we plunged back down into the clouds.  We were back at the barrels in time for lunch.

We spent the rest of the afternoon recuperating.  There was talk of possibly returning to the valley that day but confusion as to arrangements meant that did not happen.  So we spent another night at the barrels.  That evening we spoke to some Koreans who were hoping to make an ascent the following day.  They pumped us for information.

I slept well that night.

The next day was again bright.  We had our breakfast.  Here is a shot inside the kitchen area.

But, as the forecast had predicted, the winds were again very strong – perhaps even stronger than two days before.  We had been fortunate with our summit “window”.

Storm winds blow snow off the west summit of Mount Elbrus
Storm winds blow snow off the west summit of Mount Elbrus

Vladimir had told us the previous day that he might not be there in the morning because he was going to be an assistant guide with a German group – the same group that had arrived at Mineralnye Vody with us.  But he was standing in the sunshine outside the barrels when we emerged.  He had returned early with one of the party who had struggled.

The Korean party was there too.  They had been taken up to 5,000m in a snow cat.  Their guide had got out and walked about 200m, turned around and told the group that he determined the conditions as being too difficult/dangerous.  So the group was brought down without ever having got out of the vehicle, and each 60 Euros poorer.  They had another summit day in their schedule but now they no longer had funds for another snow cat trip.  I wonder if they ever made it.

The three of us had packed but the chair lift did not start operating until 9.30am.  It was pleasant sitting around in the sunshine.  The wind was not strong at this elevation.  We could see specks moving along the traverse.  Some were on their way down.  We wondered if they had battled their way to the top.  Others returned to the barrels, clearly not having been successful.

Then it was time to go.

At the top cable car station we stripped off clothing and the rest of the descent was incident free.  It was so much warmer in the valley over 3,000m lower than the summit of Elbrus and 1,500m lower than the barrels.  We had to strip off more clothing there otherwise we would melt.

So it was back to the hotel dodging the cattle in the middle of the road.  The three of us found a good restaurant on the opposite side of the square from our hotel where we had some great food, rounded off by some of the local brew.

Mount Elbrus beer
Mount Elbrus beer

Somehow I was persuaded to go on a post-prandial hike.  This involved climbing 600m in less than an hour to an intermediate ski lift station.  Still it meant good views down to Cheget and brought us to the edge of the Russian military permit zone.  Here we were only 5k from the border with Georgia and the Russians deem this area to be sensitive.

Apparently views of Elbrus are good from up here.  But clouds shrouded the mountain.  So no views for us.

Tzvetie decided to go higher.  Adam and I returned to the hotel where we met the next group from Adventure Peaks.  They had done the Mukal leg and would be going up to the barrels the following day.  We had a good chat.  It was a small group of three with a UK leader.  One of the clients had gashed his hand on the descent of Mukal and returned from hospital as we sat outside.  His hand had been stitched and it was wrapped in bandages.  We didn’t fancy his chances of being able to carry an ice axe.

The remainder of the trip passed by in a bit of a whirl.  We had to pack and have our final dinner together.  Vladimir came whilst we were eating dinner to say goodbye.  We were collected early the following morning to be taken back to Mineralnye Vody airport.  Here the three of us went our separate ways.  I would fly back to Leeds via Moscow and Amsterdam.  Tzvetie was going to London via a different Moscow airport.  Adam was going to join another mountaineering trip in the Kamchatka peninsula in Russia’s east.

My flight from Amsterdam was delayed by a couple of hours but I was still home the same day.

#volcanicsevensummits

Welcome

Thank you for taking the trouble to read this blog.  You can find out more about me by clicking on the “About Me” tab above.

The blog started out just as a mix of mountain climbing and other travel reports interspersed with a few random musings prompted by a trip that I made to Mexico and South America in November and December 2014.  You can find details of that trip using the Tags and the Archive below.

It has since developed into a bit of a resource on the Volcanic Seven Summits or the V7S.  For this the best place to start is probably here.  Comments are welcome!

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Recent posts

  • Volcanic Seven Summits: Defining the Continents
  • Entering the Marilyn Hall of Fame
  • Deception in Antarctica?
  • Will you Dare to Reach?
  • So just how much does it cost to climb the Volcanic Seven Summits?

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