To the Greatest Heights by Vanessa O'Brien

Author:Vanessa O'Brien
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria/Emily Bestler Books
Published: 2021-03-30T00:00:00+00:00

14

Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

—FRANK ROBINSON, MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL PLAYER, TIME, JULY 1973

I popped home long enough to do laundry, repack, and celebrate the Fourth of July before I left for Russia. Having my gingerbread man summit suit cleaned was becoming a pleasant ritual. I loved getting it back all fresh and fluffy, but it was beginning to show signs of wear, proof that I was becoming a seasoned climber.

Quick Elbrus wiki: dormant volcano located in the Greater Caucasus range near Stavropol Krai, Russia. It has twin summits; the west is higher, elevation 5,642 meters, the fifth-highest of the Seven Summits and the tallest mountain in Europe, which is a surprise, considering the Alps, which are so very—well, alpine. No disrespect to formidable Elbrus. She’s earned her rank. But poor Mont Blanc! The indignity.

According to Greek mythology, Zeus had the Titan Prometheus chained to a rock somewhere in the Greater Caucasus as punishment for stealing fire. Every day an eagle came to eat Prometheus’s liver, which grew back every night. Extrapolate what you will, but I imagine this might have something to do with the dour outlook of the great Russian novels: hulking in the background of all those stories is Elbrus.

This wasn’t my first time in Russia. I’d been to Saint Petersburg on business years before, and while there, I’d taken in all the main landmarks, museums, shops, restaurants, and hotels a person could stomach. Now I didn’t want to spend my limited time riding around on a tour bus tchotchke shopping, so I joined the expedition the night before the team departed for Mineralnye Vody (Min-Vody for short), a small town close to the border of Georgia. Two Russian guides, Igor Tsaruk and Nadia, were providing Daniel with local support, and Igor had arranged a nice barrel hut on Elbrus, which was important. There are no tents on Elbrus. Ingenious shelters have been created using repurposed tanker and diesel barrels, which are sturdy but not very spacious—just enough room for bunks, a small kitchen, and hooks for hanging gear. Any inside connection to a less crowded barrel hut with a less crowded toilet is a major plus.

Driving to Terskol, we passed through checkpoints manned by the Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation (FSB), which succeeded the KGB and handles all of Russia’s internal affairs. Young men carrying AK-47s stopped us as we neared the border of Georgia, and we waited, quietly avoiding eye contact, until higher-ranking officials came to clear our passports. A member of our expedition took a picture of the men in uniform, and almost instantly, other uniformed men swooped in to examine the camera and delete the photo. One teammate was held up because he was a chemical engineer. According to rumor, we were near the training camps for Chechen rebels, so there was zero latitude for climbers suspected of a “secondary agenda.”

Our hotel in Terskol was a stolid holdover from Soviet times with a banya (dodgy steam room) on the main floor, complete with venik massages.

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