77
Fear your desires and fears, they come true.
Continuing:
I don’t like rain when I’m carrying a bag. Very, very, very, very! (Although the raincoat was always ready, what would it do if it rained?) I still decided to use the Power of Words and Intention, remembering that I was a Shaman on one of the Mysteries.
Seeing the clouds, threateningly swirling and irresistibly crawling, she sat down, entered the Shaman’s state and began to conjure them: “I love you, clouds, go on, you will be fine there, you will pour rain, which will be happy, go, go, go...” A few minutes...moving your hands... Is it that simple? I don't know if it was easy, but it didn't rain. Only at night when I didn't bother. I managed the weather with no regard for it, no knowledge of my shamanic secrets. Then, having met the Ukrainian guide Max Okhotin, I realized that not one of them. He also sang "The Sun Will Rise" regularly, but unlike me, he told everyone about it. Neither Max nor the Sun did that. Max to do magic, and the Sun to look out from behind the clouds at the right moment. So I decided to tell you...
I stopped trying for the weather when the climb was on my nose. Here I showed a double standard - well, if clear and windless, but then you will not turn away - forward and up! If it rains or rains, an alibi. You can not go anywhere, but check the box “we tried.” But more on that. There was no unanimity inside of me. It's like I have two souls. One for risk, the other for safety. It hurts when you have two halves instead of one soul. What to do with it, I did not know, and did not try to find out in advance, decided that my Way is wiser than me. I'll go wherever I want. You have to give up something, either security or risk. Both roads are dear to me. Well...
The head at these heights is not very disposed to mental activity, in conditions of oxygen starvation, the body prefers to spend energy on keeping warm, moving, looking, hearing and expedient communication - but certainly not on brainstorming and weighing all the pros and cons.
Those who have the main function of life, not in experiencing life itself with all of themselves, but in analyzing it, those who are not in the sensations of the body, distance themselves from their emotions, those who, for the most part, are in their heads preferring to think about life, to remember all the entertaining horrors and disasters that have never happened to them - risk here just acutely, in the cube, will meet with all their fears. These people tend to experience panic attacks and stress the group, recruiting others to their club “life is terrible and difficult”.
Wolverine and Little Red Riding Hood walked very slowly, almost always at the end of the group. Little Red Riding Hood, she was patient, she couldn't say she wanted to be here. Every time I looked at her, hoping to see the joy, whether it was during respite or parking, but no – there was no joy. Moreover, when I, periodically running to the tail of the group to learn about her condition, was surprised that on vacation she does not take off her backpack, does not remove excess clothes, unreasonably soars in a roast, refuses to lie down to recover. I invariably found the straps of her backpack loosened, as if she were not in the body at all and not here - the backpack, with unfit straps, really hanging awkwardly on her shoulders! She seemed to let us know with all her appearance: “Look how I endure and get stronger...” I pulled her backpack straps, offered her nuts, water and raisins - but again, like an animal caught in captivity, she refused to improve her "good." I did not rush her more than once, realizing that with such a mood there is no place to press her, but it looks like it will still get worse. After all, to all the external hardness, which she does not want to ease herself into joy, oxygen starvation will also be added.
The mood of Wolverine was rather optimistic-working. She walked slowly but confidently, rejoicing that she was walking, admiring the beauties around, which she only noticed when she took off her backpack. It was clear that although it does not become easier for her to walk physically, with the rise of height, the state of joy and happiness increases, and this opens the second and third breaths and physical forces suddenly come out of nowhere. And you want to live and celebrate life, and then there are moments where it becomes clear – “I can walk forever, but at my own pace, and if no one is in a hurry – because I choose to be here!” I choose these mountains myself, and the mountains now choose me! is a transpersonal experience of the wholeness of the whole process and oneness with the world. That's all it takes to get here.
So, in the morning we got up, gathered and went to the Glacier, packed with our backpacks - the usual weight. I didn't sleep that night again. The conductor went down with his tent, so one bed was in the red. I mean, I had to go somewhere third. I nested with Supernova and Fox, it was cramped, and I could not sleep without allowing myself to toss, so as not to wake up those who slept nearby. Something pressed me and blew in my side, and then it became hot, and then it was cold again... in a word, the night is still the same. But I'm used to it. It didn't affect the morning cheer, and thank God!
We were walking along the path that we checked yesterday with the Fox, so there was too much attention, and as a result, we found pyrites.Pyrite is a mineral very similar to gold, according to legend, it multiplies everything it touches, indiscriminately. Purity of intentions in the treatment of pyrite - safety. I put it in my pockets, hoping my cleanliness was fine. Further events showed that it was not very. Pyrite multiplies fear and fatigue and illness, and what else do you have?
People longed for the way, the road was clear, the weather was favorable. I had to go first. The lone wolf, feeling a debt to his slow-moving girlfriend, volunteered to be a close-up - the group was assembled and ready.
I reminded the participants of the journey that the Father of Children bequeathed to us – on the glacier trust horses, they know the safe way – the beacon on the way will be horse dung. Yes, the irony of the symbol of the light on the way smiled at us, the imagination drew metaphors of life in Tsvetaeva’s poems “If only you knew from what rubbish poetry grows, knowing no shame ...”.
A useful thing is ungulates dung, I thought, thank you. The horses here were savvy with special horseshoes with two spikes on each. Crossing the glacier, they went to the weather station, packed with backpacks of those tourists who did not want to carry their cargo. I know that this is justified only in rare cases - injuries or, conversely, overtraining climbers for high-speed climbing. Knowing the true cost of such freebies, I preferred to train myself and give the opportunity to strengthen the participants. After all, in the last stretch, when we go to the very top without a load, We're going to really need the strength we've gathered in this training. At high altitudes, when we leave the heavy backpack at the bottom, the strength gained along the way will give our body and breathing ease: this will help us not feel oxygen starvation so much and climb to the top with great enthusiasm.
As I approached the glacier, I stopped and took off my backpack while waiting for the others and began to look for pyrite crystals under my feet. There is a lot of this stone on the eve of the ice, incompetent people easily mistake it for gold. Hence, he has such a reputation: checks the purity of a person’s thoughts and brings luck only to clean people. He exacerbates all vices and exposes all secret weaknesses to the clear water, revealing lies.
Here I once again had the fortune to observe the changing emotions on people’s faces: from excruciating fatigue, when they, looking at their feet, walked to our first stop under the glacier, to raising their heads and ecstasy flaring up on their faces at the moment of removing their backpack and straightening their backs.
But the angels, two blond young men of twenty with curls and shorts, added impressions. They stood here like a mirage, very light in sneakers, above which the bare legs are covered with light male hair. The young men peered at the edge of the horizon of the towering glacier, putting their hand with a visor to their forehead and estimating, and as without cats, it is so famous to swing over it.
Seeing us, slightly drunk from heights and happy, taking selfies together, one of them did not even come up, no, he flew up to us like a quick deer and on the "shiriy English Movi" offered to take a picture of us against the glacier, so that the girls did not suffer, trying to get three of them into the frame of a mobile phone.
Yes, if there are such young people now, then I am for the future of mankind calm. My heart is so simple, so simple, without fear flowing through the mountains people are like gods. And these two, just as easily, jumped up, at the speed of a murmuring stream. Confident, light, silent, unattached to neither things nor communication, appropriate in the moment and unexpected in the landscape, were perceived here rather as free animals, or moth butterflies that do not know how beautiful they are.
By the way, I saw a crazy butterfly over the Glacier, too. He is the one who is the greatest in his life. For going overboard. But everything has its own price: looking carefully at my feet, I saw the skeletons of birds that flew here and died. A dangerous journey... another sign?
God’s cows and bees can sometimes be found lying on a glacier, so it’s not just the madman who wants to go where people don’t live. Often, the insect bird and the animal also turns out to be curious about what is beyond the line.
I also have something that I don’t regulate – it’s just there and there. I'm always going fast, before everyone else. Waiting for the others. I don’t really blame them for digging – I’m just waiting. On our journey, she played a strange thing. I had a lot of respect for Glacier. I was afraid of him. But for some reason she was on his body before anyone else. I was confident (!) (shocked myself!) at it while others were still dressing cats. Looking back, I realized they were still at the foot, and I was 20 meters away. Surprised. Exhaled. Move on.
We, honestly dressed cats (thorns on shoes) moved forward and up. The glacier was flowing streams, and in the depths of it also bubbled water. Cracks, if you keep your attention, are not dangerous. They're small. Only a fool can fail by walking in the light of day and on the beaten path.
In about a couple of hours we overcame the main body of the Glacier, and approached the ascent-rashe along which we are up. The weather station from below seemed like a small caterpillar, and it was necessary to climb to it on a rash - long and exhausting, goose after each other. The right and left cracks have now become impressively huge. Failures are blue and white down, it is scary to look, and even think about falling there. A few hundred meters deep! And the water is thrown down, attracted by the gravity of the earth, gurkochets, gurgles, speaks with an unearthly language. No, he doesn’t, he lives his life indifferently. We humans are guests here. And should be extremely respectful and attentive, here nature is not for us, it is beautiful in its impartiality.
For us, milestones have been set (large striped sticks above human height), which we need to navigate. It is difficult to walk, and there is no special resource and time to look at the surrounding beauty. And in general, what on the plain would be perceived as marvelous here - for a layover. Heaviness, sweat, breathing, step, step...
The weather station is a two-storey long structure on a cliff. Behind it is a rocky plateau on which climbers put up tents. Further up - Kazbek, he is now visible, rises indifferently, catches clouds. There are also clouds of veil, behind them cliffs, already familiar, passed. Incredibly beautiful, not at all earthly, completely alien landscape. No blades of grass, only stones, and snowballs that probably never melt.
One of them is the nearest pipe, from which water flows, it is drunk. It is bathed in those who are brave and not afraid of the cold.
We set up tents and went to register. Here is the rule – all groups are registered at the weather station. That she's a Meteo is the past. Probably Soviet. Now it's more like a rescue post. And borderline.
Everyone in turn began to say that they want to register – it was ridiculous, as it was clear that this is not technically necessary – to list our names can and someone just tired people want to warm, want to people who live here, look at them can understand what helps them to stay here and survive, the participants of the campaign want to remember – and what it is when hard walls, instead of rustling in the wind tents of the tent!
I went with Rossomakha (she has all the questionnaires of participants), then the others pulled up. And there. It is difficult to describe ... the situation of military dugout, or ship's cube. Some men, real macho. In the room, the only one where there is a stove (this is a super currency in these places), smoked, everything is dried, the table is littered with the remains of meals, someone drinks something (not only tea, of course!). And there are eight or ten people. But they accept us favorably, offer tea (at first chacha and wine, but we refuse), honey. They insist on chacha, but they drink tea.
I, tired, baffled, confused, look around. On the walls are portraits of Vysotsky and Tsoi. Guitar. As it turned out later - Vysotsky. Flags of different countries, currency glued with scotch tape (Ukrainian too). Homon, noise, heat, heat, heat...
It is strange even to think, but this situation became for me native, familiar and ordinary in less than a day. Is the time here different, or is it different for me? Never mind.
Johnny is the main one here, probably an officer (unspoken), who looks like a mafia, is definitely the godfather of these Georgian good guys. The steward of horses and helicopters that pick up loads here and bring down the injured. Big, solid. I saw it as an additional opportunity to rise to the top. Johnny spoke while advising us on the acclimatization route. I was planning to get to the 4,000m mark, the top of the glacier, tomorrow, if I'm lucky. "For God's sake," said Johnny, "don't even go higher on the glacier during the day, I'm tired of pulling corpses out of there, you'll have to get to the beginning for the first time." And be careful, there is usually a strong stonefall in the afternoon, do not come close to the right sheer wall. We received a lot of valuable advice from him, and the price of each could be life.
Ever since we sent our Father Children down, I have been actively asking all the band leaders I met, as well as all the other fellow travelers, about their ability to adopt us. I asked how many people they have in the bundle, who is their main one, and whether they want to take us a few more: 2-3-5 people - that's a misfortune, until I can clearly say how many of us are ready to go to the top.
The participants of our expedition were very philosophical: whether to go up, not to go - here they were so capaciously interested, and so optimally difficult and joyful on the passes, delicious during snacks and dinners, that no one wanted to leave this sweet moment here and now, run away with thoughts of the near future, make plans to form expectations - why? It's still going. In this group, in this here and now, most of the participants found themselves in places they never dreamed of. What else can I ask for?
In the last couple of days of my activity and increased sociability, the whole mountain already knew us, and when they met us at the passes, they in turn asked how we were doing with the guide.
Here, at the weather station, we again told our story about the sick guide, again asked about how to arrange the ascent. They asked themselves what they would say. And go live your life here...
On the same day, when everyone rested a little, we still managed to climb 300 meters up to the chapel. It is also a good journey – along the ridge and on the rash. The wind was blowing cold, August...right? It's the November wind, the height, what can you do?
The chapel above the weather station is made of metal, fortified with cables, inside the two people do not separate, but you can see that there are often visitors.
And then my settings went wrong. I don't remember what happened on which day. In my experience (which, of course, cannot be trusted), we lived there for at least a week. In reality, three days. So I'm going to describe what I remember without really caring about chronology.
I remember the evening, Wolverine trying to cook food. The wind blows so that it is impossible to be outside (and the street is everywhere). I don't really want to eat, but I want tea. The water is in no hurry to boil (height!), Ali (Iranian) hangs out next to us, and tries to talk to Rossomakha in broken English (I don’t know). She doesn’t know English either, but somehow they find out that he was a teacher, and now he grows oranges, and his Czech comrades and someone else have already gone down. When the water boiled and the vermicelle was hard to boil, no one wanted to eat it. I was almost asleep when the girls, Supernova and Fox, came to sleep. I lay down between them, because my sleeping bag (or rather two for warmth) did not stand up to the cold criticism. We dared to sleep for a long time, the miner. ?
Yes, here at an altitude of 3700 above sea level, just the boundary when people understand the first signs of a miner. This phenomenon manifests itself in different ways - who has a headache, who swells, especially in the morning, who simply does not feel comfortable, who has euphoria and joy unfounded, and who has a depressed mood. Or even worse, if a person here is at all random and at these heights was for the company, then at all, a panic attack can happen to him.
Ergin, Fox and Supernova - mostly fell in the evenings in a ringing chirp with bouts of hysterical laughter, they at the weather station slept in the same tent and arranged a comedy woman, so that strongly attracted the attention of neighbors. From this to them clinged to the “bonfire” Greek or Iranian and really wanted to be friends. Yes, indeed, people have a desire to cling to the positive, especially men, and, in fact, healthy mental women also prefer to communicate with easy confident and cheerful, especially on the eve of trials. Fears and thoughts about the danger within themselves were enough. Especially above the glaciers, where death was felt very near.
And I didn't sleep like a soldier again. It was warm and safe between the girls, although something played out outside the tent. A strong wind - the tent groaned and clapped, the wind howled and thundered rockfalls - (far from us, but the sounds are not for the faint of heart), then began to beat the rain, then the croup beat oblique jets. I remembered that I was a Shaman, but there was no way to wave my arms and drive away the rain. It didn't bother me much, it was warm and dry, and I left the weather management issues for tomorrow. There is another problem: to sleep.
In my insomnia, I heard Lone Wolf talk, then insist, then force Red Riding Hood to go into a room at a weather station. She was sick. She was sick the other night when I approached, complaining about her heart. "Are you a heartbeat?" I asked. But it's bad now.
It was a disturbing night.
Continuation to be... published
Authors: Natalia Valitskaya (italics), Julia Golovkina (direct font)
P.S. And remember, just changing our consciousness – together we change the world!
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- Climbing Kazbek: Purpose and Meaning. Part 1
- Climbing Kazbek: Purpose and Meaning. Part 2
- Climbing Kazbek. Unpredicted. Part 3
- Climbing Kazbek. The mountain is calling. Part 4
- Life needs to be used! Part 5
I don’t like rain when I’m carrying a bag. Very, very, very, very! (Although the raincoat was always ready, what would it do if it rained?) I still decided to use the Power of Words and Intention, remembering that I was a Shaman on one of the Mysteries.
Seeing the clouds, threateningly swirling and irresistibly crawling, she sat down, entered the Shaman’s state and began to conjure them: “I love you, clouds, go on, you will be fine there, you will pour rain, which will be happy, go, go, go...” A few minutes...moving your hands... Is it that simple? I don't know if it was easy, but it didn't rain. Only at night when I didn't bother. I managed the weather with no regard for it, no knowledge of my shamanic secrets. Then, having met the Ukrainian guide Max Okhotin, I realized that not one of them. He also sang "The Sun Will Rise" regularly, but unlike me, he told everyone about it. Neither Max nor the Sun did that. Max to do magic, and the Sun to look out from behind the clouds at the right moment. So I decided to tell you...
I stopped trying for the weather when the climb was on my nose. Here I showed a double standard - well, if clear and windless, but then you will not turn away - forward and up! If it rains or rains, an alibi. You can not go anywhere, but check the box “we tried.” But more on that. There was no unanimity inside of me. It's like I have two souls. One for risk, the other for safety. It hurts when you have two halves instead of one soul. What to do with it, I did not know, and did not try to find out in advance, decided that my Way is wiser than me. I'll go wherever I want. You have to give up something, either security or risk. Both roads are dear to me. Well...
The head at these heights is not very disposed to mental activity, in conditions of oxygen starvation, the body prefers to spend energy on keeping warm, moving, looking, hearing and expedient communication - but certainly not on brainstorming and weighing all the pros and cons.
Those who have the main function of life, not in experiencing life itself with all of themselves, but in analyzing it, those who are not in the sensations of the body, distance themselves from their emotions, those who, for the most part, are in their heads preferring to think about life, to remember all the entertaining horrors and disasters that have never happened to them - risk here just acutely, in the cube, will meet with all their fears. These people tend to experience panic attacks and stress the group, recruiting others to their club “life is terrible and difficult”.
Wolverine and Little Red Riding Hood walked very slowly, almost always at the end of the group. Little Red Riding Hood, she was patient, she couldn't say she wanted to be here. Every time I looked at her, hoping to see the joy, whether it was during respite or parking, but no – there was no joy. Moreover, when I, periodically running to the tail of the group to learn about her condition, was surprised that on vacation she does not take off her backpack, does not remove excess clothes, unreasonably soars in a roast, refuses to lie down to recover. I invariably found the straps of her backpack loosened, as if she were not in the body at all and not here - the backpack, with unfit straps, really hanging awkwardly on her shoulders! She seemed to let us know with all her appearance: “Look how I endure and get stronger...” I pulled her backpack straps, offered her nuts, water and raisins - but again, like an animal caught in captivity, she refused to improve her "good." I did not rush her more than once, realizing that with such a mood there is no place to press her, but it looks like it will still get worse. After all, to all the external hardness, which she does not want to ease herself into joy, oxygen starvation will also be added.
The mood of Wolverine was rather optimistic-working. She walked slowly but confidently, rejoicing that she was walking, admiring the beauties around, which she only noticed when she took off her backpack. It was clear that although it does not become easier for her to walk physically, with the rise of height, the state of joy and happiness increases, and this opens the second and third breaths and physical forces suddenly come out of nowhere. And you want to live and celebrate life, and then there are moments where it becomes clear – “I can walk forever, but at my own pace, and if no one is in a hurry – because I choose to be here!” I choose these mountains myself, and the mountains now choose me! is a transpersonal experience of the wholeness of the whole process and oneness with the world. That's all it takes to get here.
So, in the morning we got up, gathered and went to the Glacier, packed with our backpacks - the usual weight. I didn't sleep that night again. The conductor went down with his tent, so one bed was in the red. I mean, I had to go somewhere third. I nested with Supernova and Fox, it was cramped, and I could not sleep without allowing myself to toss, so as not to wake up those who slept nearby. Something pressed me and blew in my side, and then it became hot, and then it was cold again... in a word, the night is still the same. But I'm used to it. It didn't affect the morning cheer, and thank God!
We were walking along the path that we checked yesterday with the Fox, so there was too much attention, and as a result, we found pyrites.Pyrite is a mineral very similar to gold, according to legend, it multiplies everything it touches, indiscriminately. Purity of intentions in the treatment of pyrite - safety. I put it in my pockets, hoping my cleanliness was fine. Further events showed that it was not very. Pyrite multiplies fear and fatigue and illness, and what else do you have?
People longed for the way, the road was clear, the weather was favorable. I had to go first. The lone wolf, feeling a debt to his slow-moving girlfriend, volunteered to be a close-up - the group was assembled and ready.
I reminded the participants of the journey that the Father of Children bequeathed to us – on the glacier trust horses, they know the safe way – the beacon on the way will be horse dung. Yes, the irony of the symbol of the light on the way smiled at us, the imagination drew metaphors of life in Tsvetaeva’s poems “If only you knew from what rubbish poetry grows, knowing no shame ...”.
A useful thing is ungulates dung, I thought, thank you. The horses here were savvy with special horseshoes with two spikes on each. Crossing the glacier, they went to the weather station, packed with backpacks of those tourists who did not want to carry their cargo. I know that this is justified only in rare cases - injuries or, conversely, overtraining climbers for high-speed climbing. Knowing the true cost of such freebies, I preferred to train myself and give the opportunity to strengthen the participants. After all, in the last stretch, when we go to the very top without a load, We're going to really need the strength we've gathered in this training. At high altitudes, when we leave the heavy backpack at the bottom, the strength gained along the way will give our body and breathing ease: this will help us not feel oxygen starvation so much and climb to the top with great enthusiasm.
As I approached the glacier, I stopped and took off my backpack while waiting for the others and began to look for pyrite crystals under my feet. There is a lot of this stone on the eve of the ice, incompetent people easily mistake it for gold. Hence, he has such a reputation: checks the purity of a person’s thoughts and brings luck only to clean people. He exacerbates all vices and exposes all secret weaknesses to the clear water, revealing lies.
Here I once again had the fortune to observe the changing emotions on people’s faces: from excruciating fatigue, when they, looking at their feet, walked to our first stop under the glacier, to raising their heads and ecstasy flaring up on their faces at the moment of removing their backpack and straightening their backs.
But the angels, two blond young men of twenty with curls and shorts, added impressions. They stood here like a mirage, very light in sneakers, above which the bare legs are covered with light male hair. The young men peered at the edge of the horizon of the towering glacier, putting their hand with a visor to their forehead and estimating, and as without cats, it is so famous to swing over it.
Seeing us, slightly drunk from heights and happy, taking selfies together, one of them did not even come up, no, he flew up to us like a quick deer and on the "shiriy English Movi" offered to take a picture of us against the glacier, so that the girls did not suffer, trying to get three of them into the frame of a mobile phone.
Yes, if there are such young people now, then I am for the future of mankind calm. My heart is so simple, so simple, without fear flowing through the mountains people are like gods. And these two, just as easily, jumped up, at the speed of a murmuring stream. Confident, light, silent, unattached to neither things nor communication, appropriate in the moment and unexpected in the landscape, were perceived here rather as free animals, or moth butterflies that do not know how beautiful they are.
By the way, I saw a crazy butterfly over the Glacier, too. He is the one who is the greatest in his life. For going overboard. But everything has its own price: looking carefully at my feet, I saw the skeletons of birds that flew here and died. A dangerous journey... another sign?
God’s cows and bees can sometimes be found lying on a glacier, so it’s not just the madman who wants to go where people don’t live. Often, the insect bird and the animal also turns out to be curious about what is beyond the line.
I also have something that I don’t regulate – it’s just there and there. I'm always going fast, before everyone else. Waiting for the others. I don’t really blame them for digging – I’m just waiting. On our journey, she played a strange thing. I had a lot of respect for Glacier. I was afraid of him. But for some reason she was on his body before anyone else. I was confident (!) (shocked myself!) at it while others were still dressing cats. Looking back, I realized they were still at the foot, and I was 20 meters away. Surprised. Exhaled. Move on.
We, honestly dressed cats (thorns on shoes) moved forward and up. The glacier was flowing streams, and in the depths of it also bubbled water. Cracks, if you keep your attention, are not dangerous. They're small. Only a fool can fail by walking in the light of day and on the beaten path.
In about a couple of hours we overcame the main body of the Glacier, and approached the ascent-rashe along which we are up. The weather station from below seemed like a small caterpillar, and it was necessary to climb to it on a rash - long and exhausting, goose after each other. The right and left cracks have now become impressively huge. Failures are blue and white down, it is scary to look, and even think about falling there. A few hundred meters deep! And the water is thrown down, attracted by the gravity of the earth, gurkochets, gurgles, speaks with an unearthly language. No, he doesn’t, he lives his life indifferently. We humans are guests here. And should be extremely respectful and attentive, here nature is not for us, it is beautiful in its impartiality.
For us, milestones have been set (large striped sticks above human height), which we need to navigate. It is difficult to walk, and there is no special resource and time to look at the surrounding beauty. And in general, what on the plain would be perceived as marvelous here - for a layover. Heaviness, sweat, breathing, step, step...
The weather station is a two-storey long structure on a cliff. Behind it is a rocky plateau on which climbers put up tents. Further up - Kazbek, he is now visible, rises indifferently, catches clouds. There are also clouds of veil, behind them cliffs, already familiar, passed. Incredibly beautiful, not at all earthly, completely alien landscape. No blades of grass, only stones, and snowballs that probably never melt.
One of them is the nearest pipe, from which water flows, it is drunk. It is bathed in those who are brave and not afraid of the cold.
We set up tents and went to register. Here is the rule – all groups are registered at the weather station. That she's a Meteo is the past. Probably Soviet. Now it's more like a rescue post. And borderline.
Everyone in turn began to say that they want to register – it was ridiculous, as it was clear that this is not technically necessary – to list our names can and someone just tired people want to warm, want to people who live here, look at them can understand what helps them to stay here and survive, the participants of the campaign want to remember – and what it is when hard walls, instead of rustling in the wind tents of the tent!
I went with Rossomakha (she has all the questionnaires of participants), then the others pulled up. And there. It is difficult to describe ... the situation of military dugout, or ship's cube. Some men, real macho. In the room, the only one where there is a stove (this is a super currency in these places), smoked, everything is dried, the table is littered with the remains of meals, someone drinks something (not only tea, of course!). And there are eight or ten people. But they accept us favorably, offer tea (at first chacha and wine, but we refuse), honey. They insist on chacha, but they drink tea.
I, tired, baffled, confused, look around. On the walls are portraits of Vysotsky and Tsoi. Guitar. As it turned out later - Vysotsky. Flags of different countries, currency glued with scotch tape (Ukrainian too). Homon, noise, heat, heat, heat...
It is strange even to think, but this situation became for me native, familiar and ordinary in less than a day. Is the time here different, or is it different for me? Never mind.
Johnny is the main one here, probably an officer (unspoken), who looks like a mafia, is definitely the godfather of these Georgian good guys. The steward of horses and helicopters that pick up loads here and bring down the injured. Big, solid. I saw it as an additional opportunity to rise to the top. Johnny spoke while advising us on the acclimatization route. I was planning to get to the 4,000m mark, the top of the glacier, tomorrow, if I'm lucky. "For God's sake," said Johnny, "don't even go higher on the glacier during the day, I'm tired of pulling corpses out of there, you'll have to get to the beginning for the first time." And be careful, there is usually a strong stonefall in the afternoon, do not come close to the right sheer wall. We received a lot of valuable advice from him, and the price of each could be life.
Ever since we sent our Father Children down, I have been actively asking all the band leaders I met, as well as all the other fellow travelers, about their ability to adopt us. I asked how many people they have in the bundle, who is their main one, and whether they want to take us a few more: 2-3-5 people - that's a misfortune, until I can clearly say how many of us are ready to go to the top.
The participants of our expedition were very philosophical: whether to go up, not to go - here they were so capaciously interested, and so optimally difficult and joyful on the passes, delicious during snacks and dinners, that no one wanted to leave this sweet moment here and now, run away with thoughts of the near future, make plans to form expectations - why? It's still going. In this group, in this here and now, most of the participants found themselves in places they never dreamed of. What else can I ask for?
In the last couple of days of my activity and increased sociability, the whole mountain already knew us, and when they met us at the passes, they in turn asked how we were doing with the guide.
Here, at the weather station, we again told our story about the sick guide, again asked about how to arrange the ascent. They asked themselves what they would say. And go live your life here...
On the same day, when everyone rested a little, we still managed to climb 300 meters up to the chapel. It is also a good journey – along the ridge and on the rash. The wind was blowing cold, August...right? It's the November wind, the height, what can you do?
The chapel above the weather station is made of metal, fortified with cables, inside the two people do not separate, but you can see that there are often visitors.
And then my settings went wrong. I don't remember what happened on which day. In my experience (which, of course, cannot be trusted), we lived there for at least a week. In reality, three days. So I'm going to describe what I remember without really caring about chronology.
I remember the evening, Wolverine trying to cook food. The wind blows so that it is impossible to be outside (and the street is everywhere). I don't really want to eat, but I want tea. The water is in no hurry to boil (height!), Ali (Iranian) hangs out next to us, and tries to talk to Rossomakha in broken English (I don’t know). She doesn’t know English either, but somehow they find out that he was a teacher, and now he grows oranges, and his Czech comrades and someone else have already gone down. When the water boiled and the vermicelle was hard to boil, no one wanted to eat it. I was almost asleep when the girls, Supernova and Fox, came to sleep. I lay down between them, because my sleeping bag (or rather two for warmth) did not stand up to the cold criticism. We dared to sleep for a long time, the miner. ?
Yes, here at an altitude of 3700 above sea level, just the boundary when people understand the first signs of a miner. This phenomenon manifests itself in different ways - who has a headache, who swells, especially in the morning, who simply does not feel comfortable, who has euphoria and joy unfounded, and who has a depressed mood. Or even worse, if a person here is at all random and at these heights was for the company, then at all, a panic attack can happen to him.
Ergin, Fox and Supernova - mostly fell in the evenings in a ringing chirp with bouts of hysterical laughter, they at the weather station slept in the same tent and arranged a comedy woman, so that strongly attracted the attention of neighbors. From this to them clinged to the “bonfire” Greek or Iranian and really wanted to be friends. Yes, indeed, people have a desire to cling to the positive, especially men, and, in fact, healthy mental women also prefer to communicate with easy confident and cheerful, especially on the eve of trials. Fears and thoughts about the danger within themselves were enough. Especially above the glaciers, where death was felt very near.
And I didn't sleep like a soldier again. It was warm and safe between the girls, although something played out outside the tent. A strong wind - the tent groaned and clapped, the wind howled and thundered rockfalls - (far from us, but the sounds are not for the faint of heart), then began to beat the rain, then the croup beat oblique jets. I remembered that I was a Shaman, but there was no way to wave my arms and drive away the rain. It didn't bother me much, it was warm and dry, and I left the weather management issues for tomorrow. There is another problem: to sleep.
In my insomnia, I heard Lone Wolf talk, then insist, then force Red Riding Hood to go into a room at a weather station. She was sick. She was sick the other night when I approached, complaining about her heart. "Are you a heartbeat?" I asked. But it's bad now.
It was a disturbing night.
Continuation to be... published
Authors: Natalia Valitskaya (italics), Julia Golovkina (direct font)
P.S. And remember, just changing our consciousness – together we change the world!
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Source: valitskaya.com/wp/
