Elbrus’s dual peaks reflect the sunset during clear weather
Mount Elbrus is a tricky member of the Seven Summits. It is the highest mountain in Europe, yet if not for its prominence as one of the Seven Summits, few would highlight it as a climbing destination, or even be aware of its status.
There are a couple of reasons for that. If asked, the average non-mountaineering person would likely say the more famous Mont Blanc in France is the highest peak on the European continent. And to boot, although Elbrus is in Russia, it is not close to being the tallest mountain in that country.
That unusual delineation is due to the fact that Russia spans both Europe and Asia. All of its tallest mountains are in the Asian portion of the country, yet they are all much shorter than the tallest peaks in Asia. That group includes Mount Everest and the Himalayas.
Mount Elbrus stands 18,510 above sea level. It is situated in the Caucasus Mountains in the southern portion of the country, not far from Georgia. Lenin Peak, in the Pamirs, is the best-known and most eagerly sought summit in the region. The top is at 23,406 feet, substantially higher than Elbrus, and, for its height, it is one of the easiest mountains in the world to ascend. It is estimated hundreds of people reach the summit each year. However, despite the quirk of being in the same country as Elbrus, Elbrus gets more of the attention for being one of the Seven Summits.
Similarly, Mont Blanc is the tallest mountain in the Alps at 15,774 feet, and has had a long climbing history. The first ascent of Mont Blanc is dated 1786, and in an average year these days some 20,000 people reach the summit. The mountain is widely known and admired, but those who believe it to be the tallest peak in Europe are incorrect. That title belongs to Elbrus.
Elbrus is a dormant volcano with its last known eruption in 50 AD. Photographed from afar, its lower bulk can be viewed as green with the upper slopes covered in snow and ice. Elbrus actually features two distinct summit points, East and West, with only a matter of about seventy feet of height separating them. The lower east summit was first climbed in 1829. The slightly higher west summit was climbed in 1874.
What is called the normal climbing route on Elbrus, the easiest way to the top, starts with a cable car ride partway up the mountain. This is an approach from the South. The cable car deposits people at 12,000-plus feet, and from there it’s about 6,000 feet to the top. People cover the lower part of the mountain via snow cat. The descent can be accomplished in only a handful of hours. The main issue for climbers, as it is on any high mountain, is to be acclimated.
Weather can also play a part in halting climbs. Typically, on the normal route, there have been few crevasses on Elbrus, but that seems to be changing with global warming. Extremely cold temperatures in the minus-thirties, significant snowfall, and high winds can hamper climbing progress and contribute to climber deaths. In 2004 alone, there were forty-eight mountaineering deaths, and in an average year between fifteen and thirty people perish on climbs there.
Vern Tejas has climbed Elbrus thirty-eight times, and it is one of the regular stops on his annual world tour of the continental high peaks.
The start time for the climb to the summit of Mount Elbrus is about 3 a.m. The adrenaline is going. You are climbing the highest mountain in Europe and people are nervous. Still, Elbrus is very civilized with the cable car and the snow cats helping you out.
The summit day is a very big day of work. The camp is at 12,000 feet and you are going to 18,000 feet. That is 6,000 feet of gain, which is really a big gulp. To make that more reasonable, I typically employ a snow cat to shuttle us back up to our previous high points at 15,000 feet. Starting there is still more than you would gain in altitude during a single day on Everest. We drop down to 12,500 feet afterwards.
Elbrus’s dual peaks reflect the sunset during clear weather
Not long ago, I had brunch with a lady who had been on an Elbrus climb with me the year before. She said when the climbers were riding the snow cats, they were all nervous. Then I broke out my harmonica to start playing music. The tension went away. The woman said, “When you pulled your harmonica out it just broke the ice.”
However, it was cold and windy, and I sensed some diminished confidence. People were wondering if they had it in them to reach the summit on a day with weather like that. I kept playing the harmonica, hoping to wake them up and get their adrenaline going. One thing I played was “Suwannee River” by Stephen Foster and “Old Joe Clark,” an old, traditional song. “Suwannee River” has a nice marching beat to it and that’s what we were going to be doing for the next five hours or so of our lives. We were going to be marching up this hill in the dark and cold. Most people don’t know what to expect or what they can do. For them it was like the pre-race jitters. Music helps calm the soul.
One thing about a harmonica, compared to carrying a guitar or a fiddle, is that it can go anywhere just tucked in your pocket. It’s easy to get at. Sometimes when I am waiting around in line for the cable car, I’ll pull it out. It may be only for two minutes. The locals, the Russians, love music. You can have an impromptu jam while you’re waiting. They’re clapping and goofing. It’s fun. The woman I had brunch with was in New York organizing a Dixie Chicks concert. She deals with musicians all of the time and she remembers my harmonica as a magic moment on the climb. It being a highlight for her made it rewarding for me. I also brought a guitar on the trip, but I left that at the hut. The guitar has gone all over the world with me, too.
The music all goes back to what Jim Hale told me when I first started out on Denali. “The mountains are hard enough, so make sure you have fun.” Sometimes people are just gritting their teeth and pushing their bodies. I am hoping to get them to relax a little, especially during a storm. Look for some enjoyment in just being there.
One thing about planning to play music on anything bigger than a harmonica when you are high on mountains is the size of the instrument. I have a regular guitar, but I usually carry a baby guitar. It is down-sized to be lighter and smaller and can fit in a pack. It’s called a lapstick. You also have to prepare to carry extra weight, but it’s always worth the extra effort. That is easier to do on some mountains than others.
The lapstick is made for practicing really. It’s been beat up on my climbs, but it is durable. It’s electric and you can plug it in to earphones on planes and trains. You’ve got to go out of your way to find something like this or make it for the purpose. I found the baby guitar on the internet. It was my Christmas present about nine years ago. It has been to all Seven Summits. There is another little accomplishment for my resume. I am sure I am the only person ever to play a guitar on the top of each continent.
I guess if someone played a piano on each summit they would beat me out. Of course it would not be a real piano, but maybe a keyboard. A friend once brought a keyboard to Everest base camp. Playing the miniguitar on the summit is esoteric, but it is still cool.
In the beginning of my climbing career, I carried a fiddle, but it was too awkward, too hard, too finicky in the cold, too everything. At least I wasn’t trying to carry a bass fiddle. You’ve got to choose your instrument correctly. The baby guitar was really durable and could go anywhere. I had a guy on a recent Elbrus trip who was a repeat climber and he said, “I remember when you played that thing in South America.”
We were on our way to Mendoza after a speed climb of Aconcagua, and I was hitching a ride with some guys. One had a little electronic cable for a Walkman and I was able to plug right into it with the guitar. I played it through the stereo system in the car and we rocked for three hours into town. I did it long enough to get tired, but we had a great time. Although everything about it has to be lightweight and small, I can still plug the guitar into a big amplifier. Then I get a big sound out of that little guitar.
Although I am used to carrying more weight in the mountains than the climbers who sign up for the trips, I still have to be careful, as well. On most of the Seven Summits trips, the packs climbers carry are not that heavy. Porters are required on Kilimanjaro. There are supporters on Aconcagua. Most of the camp gear is carried by Sherpas on Everest. Kosciuszko is a day hike. Denali you have to carry the heaviest packs, sixty pounds or so. On Elbrus and some of the other mountains, the climbers are basically not carrying more weight than they would be if they were carrying a suitcase.
The weight of the pack might seem heavy to them because they are carrying it at altitude, which increases the work your body has to do. They are aware of it, for sure. Numbers get thrown around pretty loosely at times about weight, forty, fifty, sixty, seventy pounds. There is some weight, but not that much most places. Carrying weight can be a big factor at altitude, but the climbers for the most part are not forced to carry those heavier weights. However, the workload on Denali can crush people if they are not ready for it. They have trained to build endurance, but they may not have trained to carry so many pounds. A lady who climbed in 2016 started calling her pack “the little monster.” You can imagine how she felt carrying that pack. Her pack included an outer jacket, a sleeping bag, and some other things. It probably weighed thirty pounds. To her, that felt like a lot.
Anything sixty pounds or more is a worst-case load. That’s at the beginning of a climb when we are moving everything up to establish camps. That kind of load can be sixty pounds on your back, but you will also be pulling a sled with sixty pounds of supplies on it. The supply carry might be for three or four hours. It’s a lot for people to do, but is normal for Denali.
Russia is one place on the Seven Summits circuit where I really enjoy the company of the local people—the peasants, if you will—in the remote areas. They have suffered a lot through the decades under Communism, Joseph Stalin, World War II, Stalin again, and more Communist upheaval. They drink a lot and it seems as if every eighth Russian you come across sings the blues. The Russian blues have a lot of misery behind them. It seems as if every family you come across, you hear somebody in the clan has been lost, whether it was during the war, being sent to gulags or pogroms. All of those wounds seem fresh to them.
It has been estimated, in his dictatorship reign, that Stalin’s actions caused the death of something like fifty million people through imprisonment, torture, executions, or starvation. That’s a lot of people. He may have disappeared more people than Adolf Hitler.
The Russians I meet these days have heart. They’ve got soul. I like the Russians. It is a grimmer culture in many ways, but they do know how to party. They do love vodka and drinking. I think vodka prevents more people from killing themselves. I have helped take people to the hospital from overdrinking at a celebration.
The first time I went to Elbrus in the late 1980s was with my friends from Hong Kong who were trying to complete the Seven Summits. They had climbed with me on Denali. Two of us went on to climb Everest together and finish the Seven Summits.
The country was the old Soviet Union, not Russia, and driving through Moscow was bleak. It was very cold, very dark, very dreary, and we rode in a military van at a high rate of speed with no seat belts. The whole city was very drab.
During the Soviet era, there weren’t any bright signs. Everything was gray. When we got to our only lodging option, the Intourist Hotel, the national basketball team came in. They ducked through the doorways and had hands that went down to their knees. They looked like greyhounds of the human species. They were giants.
All foreigners had to stay in Intourist hotels, which made for easy monitoring of our movements, and the local Soviets were supposed to stay away. Authorities did not want any unofficial mingling. You could get in trouble. This was the government’s way of keeping all of these foreign troublemakers in one place. The hotels were huge buildings that held thousands of visitors. I know they had surveillance on us. We made jokes about how they were spying on us. About ten seconds after we walked into the room, the phone rang and someone using rough English asked, “Do you want a woman for tonight?” I said, “No woman for the night, thank you.”
Another thing was trying to drink safe water. You could get Pepsi in Russia. China had the Coca-Cola concession. It was just like the powers of the world dividing up the continents. So did the soda powers. Bad water is one reason why people drank so much vodka. At least they knew it was safe. Even the Pepsi tasted like it had zinc in it, but it beat boiling the water to sterilize it. From there, we flew to the Caucasus Mountains and caught a military van to the ski resort where they had the tram, or cable car.
My god, everything was archaic. Everything was in disrepair. The tram was scary. We could even see a fallen car crushed 200 feet below that they didn’t even clean up. Above that was a chair lift, but it was broken and the guys there to fix it were drunk. This experience made me wonder how the Soviets were going to bury us with their military might when they couldn’t even handle the most basic machinery. They were a nuclear and military power, but were so backwards at home. How was this possible? It was all a show. Everything they did was a show for the West. They did nothing to improve the life of the average Russian, not one iota.
Americans benefited from scientific development in the space race, but it seemed as if the Soviets’ work impoverished the people. They didn’t have bread on the shelves. They didn’t have good service. You could walk into a store and the lady would be smoking a cigarette. If you wanted help, she would just scowl. I said I wanted to buy a loaf of bread and she said to come back when she finished smoking the butt. In western society, money talks, so I employed that philosophy. I said I wasn’t coming back, gave her $10 worth of rubles, and that bought me service.
Service is supposed to be linked to accountability and accountability and service should be rewarded. I’m still trying to show local guides that if they are good to the climbers they will receive good tips. Many don’t get the connection. We are still working our way through the medieval effects of Communism in Russia.
On the first Elbrus trip, we reached what they called the highest hotel in the world on the mountain at 13,000 feet. It was not. There are higher inns in Nepal, at 14,000 feet. There was nobody there. We came late in the season, October, and there was no one around to unlock the door. We forced the door and checked in. We had some supplies with us and were trying to heat up some water on our stove in a hallway.
The only other person on the mountain was an American woman named Peggy Luce. Peggy was on her Seven Summits quest and that year, 1988, she became the second American woman to climb Everest. The next day, we had a Russian guide come along, and we started up. When we got near the top he said, “You go here. It is very good. It is the highest point in Europe.” Actually, it was not. He was steering us to the East peak instead of the West peak because he didn’t want to work hard. I had a map with me so I knew. I said, “Isn’t that the East peak.” He said, “Yes, East peak, highest point.” I said, “Well, actually, we would like to go to the little bit higher West peak over there.” He goes, “Oh, no, this is the highest peak.” It was not going to go over well with the people I was guiding if we went to the wrong peak. I told the guide, “This is the right peak for us.”
I refrained from getting in a really big argument. I just told the guide we were going to the West peak. I thought the map was smarter than he was. The difference is 18,510 feet to 18,442 feet. But it is a difference. We went to the West peak. Then I unloaded my paraglider from my pack and said, “This is why I’m here guys.” I flew off the top saying, “See you back at the hut.” By the time they came down with the local guide, I had dinner on. I didn’t believe anybody else had flown off the West peak. The guide confirmed I was the only one to fly off the highest point in Europe.
One of guys took a good picture of me in flight. From the summit, the whole Caucasus Range was spread out 100 miles south of us, all of the way to Mount Ararat. You’re looking down into Georgia, Azerbaijan, and on and on with the sun in the background. The picture was so dramatic it was published and seen all over the world and that was before the advent of the internet.
Going to climb Elbrus you get some great sightseeing in, too. When we are on our way in for the climb we enter the country through St. Petersburg, which used to be called Leningrad. When we leave we go through Moscow. We have one day for sightseeing in St. Petersburg and there is a lot to see. We make sure to visit the Hermitage museum and we tend to visit the most famous churches and galleries. I have seen the Fortress of Peter and Paul and where the remains of Czar Nicholas and his family were returned to St. Petersburg after they were dug up in Siberia. We do a day of art, cathedrals and monuments.
One of the main reasons sightseeing is tacked on, in addition to the basic opportunity to sample Russian culture, is to ensure that all of our baggage has caught up to us. There seems to always be one bag that goes AWOL, and by staying around the city another twenty-four hours, the lost bag is usually recovered.
On the way out, we stop in Moscow to see the capital. We do a city tour, see Moscow State University, and drive by the 1980 Summer Olympic setting. We see a bunch of churches and the Kremlin and maybe go inside the Cathedral of Christ the Savior that was rebuilt. That church took forty years to build and it was consecrated in 1883. In 1931, Stalin demolished it because under Communism atheism was the state’s equivalent of religion.
Stalin planned to build a huge palace of government in its place. Although construction started, the new seat of government was never finished, waylaid by World War II. The new version of the cathedral was built between 1995 and 2000 at the behest of the Russian Orthodox Church. It is a magnificent church.
We always go to Red Square, too. Usually we eat dinner first and see it at night because it is so impressive under the lights. We go back the next day and visit the big government store and shopping center. In 1988, the first time I ever visited the store, G.U.M. it was dismal. There was no food on the shelves. At the time, Mikhail Gorbachev was in charge and was introducing the first policies of perestroika and glasnost, restructuring and openness. It was early. Now that area is all Gucci. The G.U.M. store has been modernized. It used to be that young people wanted to buy jeans right off your body, or your watch off your wrist. Now the goods and services are in one of the nicest malls in Europe.
If you read the in-flight magazines and Duty Free publications, all of the stuff advertised in those pages is going to be in those stores. They have high-end brands, all the big product names. I don’t keep up with that stuff, so I am not familiar with a lot of them. There was definitely a time when it would be difficult to imagine speaking the words G.U.M. and Gucci in the same sentence. Before, Moscow was not exactly a shopping mecca.
Years ago, you were not excited to go out to eat in Moscow. Now we have lunch in Red Square in a nice Soviet-style cafeteria: a workers café, they call it. It’s actually become a cliché. The waiters tell you, “Comrade, clear your plate.” It is very Soviet, like nostalgia. The workers from the G.U.M. store used to eat there, but now it has become a tourist attraction. It is a good value, but so many people know about it that there’s a line. I hate to spend an hour for my lunch, so maybe in the future we will try other places.
The food used to be terrible, but it is good now, excellent. It’s still Russian food, if that’s your taste, but the quality is there. There is a whole mall complex on the east side of the Kremlin, and a park strip. There are three stories of underground shops. G.U.M. carries expensive Gucci, and the girls who work there go to the more trendy underground shops.
Russia is very different than what it was in the 1980s, transformed in many ways, but Elbrus is still the same mountain. It is neither the easiest, nor the hardest of the Seven Summits to climb, but it is a challenge at a respectable altitude, and a trip to climb it gives you access to all kinds of cultural and historical experiences in St. Petersburg and Moscow.
And maybe more vodka than you ever planned on drinking in one sitting.