Konstantin Grouzdev,
project leader,
Specially for the ¡°The 60th Parallel¡±,
Surgut
On June 11, 2006 just on the threshold of the Second International Forum of the 60th parallel cities a group of mountaineers from Surgut and Saint-Petersburg Konstantin Grouzdev, Victoria Grouzdeva, Vladimir Kalashnikov and Ivan Moschnikov has set off for Alaska in order to join two parts of the world. Rather, to finish the unrealized earlier programme.
Foundation of Development and Communication for Northern Cities ¡°The 60 Parallel¡± was founded in 2001 with the aim to facilitate the development of cultural interconnections within the northern territories. Stockholm, Helsinki, Saint-Petersburg, Petrozavodsk, Magadan, Anchorage and other northern cities have supported the good cause. It turned out that there are mountains on this parallel. At the same time an idea of parallel and simultaneous mountaineering of the highest point on the 60th parallel Mount Narodnaya in circumpolar Urals and Mount McKinley in Alaska has been born. On 12 June 2006, Declaration of Russian Sovereignty Day, Mount Narodnaya has received the first group of mountaineers. My group, however, was left ¡°overboard¡± of Alaska due to the insufficient funding and turned for soothing in Tien Shan¡¯s seven thousand high Khan Tengri. Later on, in September 2003, I have managed to visit the circumpolar Urals with my friends. It was Indian summer at the foothills but at the top there was real winter. The Urals were presented in the best possible way!
And now it is the turn of the main mountain of the north McKinley (Denali).
The event became possible thanks to the personal support of the Head of Surgut Alexander Sidorov. We must finish the 2002 project. Join two parts of the world.
To Alaska. June 2006. We have set up the first camp at night in the Sheremetievo Airport behind some stands.
We have laid the rugs and sleeping-bags on the floor just as it should be. The alarm clocks in our mobile phones were set up for 05.30. Our relative comfort is an object of envy for the languishing station public. Ahead of us is a transatlantic flight Moscow ¨C Frankfurt-am-Main, Denver ¨C Anchorage. Twenty hours of flying just in one direction.
-----------------------------------------
It¡¯s been a day since our departure from Moscow. We¡¯ve changed a third plane at the transfer points as if horses at the drivers¡¯ pit.
It¡¯s morning. Alaska is under the wing. Our hyper energetic fellow travelers ¨C Americans ¨C have been drinking their favourite drinks from cans all night marching afterwards to the sacred room, and ¡ finally, quietened down towards the morning.
Underneath, continuous mountains, mountains, snow, snow.
The mountains seem somewhat dull at a great altitude.
We are descending.
Dim polar sun.
Grey ocean, bays. Islands.
Anchorage. The temperature is 12 degrees Celsius. We got our luggage and are going to the city. In spite of the fact that we have spent the past two days wandering about airports and planes still we are examining everything around us rather keenly.
Alaska!
Our hotel is something between a hostel and a climber base camp. We are going for a stroll around Anchorage.
The Cook Inlet, ashore of which Anchorage is situated, is filled with fresh water that has derived from the mountains. Overgrown and waterlogged shores. There is no real sea view in Anchorage. It¡¯s a pity. We had a craving to breathe in the sea elements.
We continue on walking. Narrow streets, compact northern planning. Strangely enough there is little motor transport. Anchorage is a typical northern city. Staid and slow. There¡¯s few high-rise buildings in the downtown. Everything carries a trace of simplicity and self-sufficiency.
In the morning we are going to the supermarket to get some food.
The spring is just beginning here. We walked out to the beach. The gulls are circling above and fat wild ducks are relaxing on the water.
We¡¯ve admired the view of typical American life for a while. Accurate houses, cottages, absence of fences, trimmed lawns, the USA flags almost at every porch.
We¡¯ve stacked two trolleys with food at the supermarket, called for a taxi with the help of the shop-assistant and left for our apartment. A meter is ticking in the taxi converting miles into cents.
At 16.00 we got into a minibus and went to a village Talkeetna. It is 100 miles away.
Miles, pounds, Fahrenheit, cents¡
We are accompanied by the rain from Anchorage to Talkeetna. It¡¯s impossible to see anything from the bus window. We are watching the windshield wipers like enchanted. Afterwards, slept the rest of the way without regret.
Talkeetna. We¡¯ve settled into the ¡°Talkeetna ¨C Air-Taxi¡± guest house. Visited the office and got registered there.
Ivan asked: ¡°Are there any Russians here?¡±
- Yes. Somewhere here.
Aha! Here¡¯s elegant master tying up the knots and teaching the beginners right here on the HARSH land.
- Hello!
-Hello.
- Oh!
-Oh!
This is how two men from Saint Petersburg met far away from homeland! Dmitry Sidorov and Ivan Moschnikov. They agreed to meet in Anchorage given the opportunity.
------------------------------
There is a sign at the door of the ¡°Talkeetna ¨C Air-Taxi¡± guest house with approximately the following context:
¡°Do not leave the food outside!
The bear will eat everything!
Close the doors at night!¡±
We had a spare day on our return and we stopped at Talkeetna on purpose. We¡¯ve visited the climbers¡¯ caf¨¦ ¡°West Rib¡±, wondered around the neighbourhood, shallow Sesitna river channels. We also visited the museum of mountaineering. In the end, we took a strong liking to this place. Very nice village of Talkeetna!
--------------------------------------
In the morning we are going to the office of the national park ¡°Denali¡± to register.
Rangers, national park officers ¨C the Gods of Denali! They look accordingly and behave in the same way. They are strict but magnanimous.
There is an ice-axe that belonged to Arthur Testov on the chimney-piece in the centre of the office. He is a famous Russian mountaineer and Alaska¡¯s hero. He was first in the history of mountaineering who climbed Mount McKinley in winter 1999. The temperature reached ¨C 60 degrees Celsius!
We went through an hour-long instruction and found out where and what kind of risks we have to look for on the way. Also, we watch some slides including those with the frostbitten mountaineer. We have been given the garbage bags and a guarantee that we would be provided with help in emergency. As the result, the ranger gives us a permit ¨C a permission to climb.
-------------------------------------------------
We are waiting in Talkeetna Airport ¨C one, two hours¡ We are told that we have to wait because of the bad weather in the mountains¡
We are waiting.
Why did the aboriginals eat Cook?
Here in Alaska two Cooks became famous.
The first one furrowed the seas, changed arctic latitude maps with the Russian navigators. One of the bays in Anchorage was called in his honour. Later on, he was careless and swam right into the hands of aboriginals.
Second Cook conquered the North Pole and Mount McKinley. Fortune and treacherous slanderers have prejudiced his achievements. After the ascent in Jun, 2006 that followed the route of the pioneers, Oleg Banar¡¯, who is the famous Russian mountaineer, traveller and bard, contends that ¡°He was the first one to climb that mountain!¡± I know him personally since the ascent of Elbrus in January this year.
We are waiting for the plane. Ivan settled in the centre of the waiting area on the folding chair and very soon gathered a group of Americans consisting predominantly of middle-aged tourists-millionaires that were waiting for departure.
He is telling stories about Russia, Siberia.
Tourists are delighted!
And now, here comes a one-motor monoplane.
We are loading our backpacks, food, snow-shoes. Sat down. Then, put on the communication headsets. Nevertheless, there is a bit of jimjams in the air.
We are flying!
It turns out that it is simple.
Painted metal steering wheel.
The pedals are underfoot.
The windshield is covered with smashed grasshoppers!
Rivers, lakes, taiga are flowing underneath. Ahead of us are the mountains.
The weather in the mountain is non-flying, however, you can fly if you really want to!
Crosswise are the echelons of clouds.
We are trying to find our way in it.
Toppling over the left wing, flying round the mountain. Toppling over the right wing. Wind is blowing through the chink in the door of the plane. After all, we¡¯ve been flying for 40 minutes already!
In the distance, we can see black dots over at the Kahiltna Glacier. This is a base camp, snow aerodrome. The coloured flags define the boundaries of the landing ground.
Touch down! The engine roars! We are turning rather boldly and stopping at the ranger¡¯s tent. Unloading and setting the tents.
But where?
In Alaska!
I¡¯m trying to find some sort of supporting material in my head in order to persuade myself that this is indeed Alaska. The only image of it that springs to mind is that from the globe. Pointed Alaska just opposite the Chukotka. ¡°Like on Inylchek¡± said Doctor, Vladimir Kalashnikov, thinking probably of the same thing.
We are close to mount Hunter. Opposite is the monster mountain Foraker! Hanging over the glacier for three kilometers!
Foraker sounds like HE, but according to the local name it is SHE.
Sultana.
Obviously, she is the girlfriend of Denali.
There is a legend. Tragic, of course.
Love. Petrified. Frozen, etc.
I don¡¯t know Hunter¡¯s role in this story. Need to ask Oleg Bonar¡¯.
Actually, there are not that many peaks that did not have a serac on it!
This is the North!
Mount McKinley is still not visible. Everything is covered in clouds in the direction of the mountain. It is 19 miles from the summit camp to the snow aerodrome which is over 30 kilometres.
At the base camp we find our colleagues from Kiev!
This is nice! At least there is someone we can borrow salt from and talk to!
¡°Now then! Pay for gas!¡±, shouted Ivan instead of greeting. ¡°Ha ha!¡±
¡°Do you, boys, want to hear a joke about ¡ko!?¡±¡. ¡°Ha ha!¡±
Barge haulers
In the morning we harnessed ourselves to the sledges. This is the first time for us. The corrida has begun. The sledges are hitting us from behind or carry away! Once in a while they turn over! Eh! Even worse, we had to pass the Ukrainians! And they did not miss a chance to add fuel to the fire, ¡°Well, have you decided to climb the mountain?¡±
We tie up in a pair before the cracks and have no problems with the sledges on a long ascending rise. We spent 6 hours before we got to the first camp.
It is not an evening yet.
The sun is piercing through everything!
We have burned eyes even though we had our sunglasses on all the time.
Everything is buzzing in the air. The aviators in Alaska are ready to ride anyone for 500 USD. Special tourist air routes have been arranged.
Some of my colleagues are hiding from the sun in their tents and¡ accidentally fall asleep. After all, we are not used to the new order of the day when everything is back to front: the day is a night, the night is a day. Add to it the white nights.
Only Ivan is staying awake and is repairing the fuel burner. He offers me to dismantle mine in order to find out by way of comparative analysis what is wrong with his. In turn, using all the expressiveness of the Russian language, I suggest him to keep at least one fuel burner working!
Once again, Ivan dismantles and assembles the fuel burner with sooty hands.
Repair packing is all over the camp¡¯s territory.
¡°I will not sleep until the local night comes!¡±, he shouted at the drowsy atmosphere.
¡°Their day is what makes a year¡±.
Avesta
Little by little our camp becomes imbued with the fuel. I took Ivan¡¯s fuel burner and shook it. There was no typical clattering of the needle! I unscrewed the jet, turned over the fuel burner on my palm but there was no needle!
- Vanya, where¡¯s the needle?
- There was no needle!
- How come? How would the fuel burner have worked in the morning then?
- There wasn¡¯t¡
This is how the second part of the first working day has passed, in fuss.
Good spirits
We easily get up at six o¡¯clock in the morning, because back in Russia it is six in the evening! Well, now!
Frosty morning!
The sky is clear!
A team of mountaineers is speeding across the glacier!
Good spirits in the red sector!
We suspect that partially our good spirits are caused by the hypobaropathy (mountain sickness which makes the mountaineer euphoric at first).
We are going into the saddle, McKinley mountain range appears on the right hand side!
At last, we can see the whole mountain! Nonetheless, we are far away from the bottom of it. Even though the view is very impressive, it is still small.
Climbing up. The sledges are dragging behind obediently. We are approaching the remains of a snow shelter that is smoothed by the winds and time.
This is the second camp.
We are burying ourselves three metres deep into the snow! Ivan is polishing the steps with a shovel. Here, on the glacier, the groups are settling in various places. In all directions. The glacier is wide.
The clouds are floating near us.
They cover us.
Impossible to see anything.
The aviation of Alaska is not buzzing.
Complete silence.
272
The next day we are reaching 3300 metres.
The third camp.
On the right is a cornice glacier, on the left is a steep snow and ice slope with an open marginal crevasse. There is an astillen in the arrage right over the camp that threatens with avalanching during the snowfalls. A platform is in the middle of this crossing . This is where the tents of the third camp are located.
It is cramped.
It is more safe above. But it is too open and you might get blown away.
We are burying the second reserve into the snow. The first one was left at the aerodrome. Here, we leave the sledges and some food. We mark the place of the reserve with a picket that has a sticker on it ¡°SURGUT - 272¡±. Our permit is ¡í272. By the way, it is a lucky number.
We are planning another reserve at the fourth camp for tomorrow (4200 m.) and return to 3300 metres. Afterwards, time for acclimatization.
The reserve
We are working above the main cloudiness from the fourth day. All we can see is the three peaks: Mount McKinley (Denali), Mount Foraker (Sultana), and mount Hunter. Below a kind of different life is going on, but here we have our own.
We are passing one of the key places (according to the stagers) with the reserve, a so-called Windy Corner.
We are looking over the corner fearfully. Everything seems to be OK. There is no wind today.
Straight ahead is a complete chaos of cracks and bridges.
That is why the track passes the cracks to the left, upwards and traverses the slope. We are resting at the top.
Cracks are passing underneath us from the right and the left. It is uncomfortable. We are leaving.
Leaving the reserve at the fourth camp ¡°McKinley ¨C City¡±.
It is located on the large glacial territory right under the main ascent of the mountain. It is possible to observe the whole track to the summit camp at 5200 m from here. The rangers¡¯ tent is standing out for its size. It is equipped to provide medical aid. It also has the communication with Talkeetna. Here, people know the weather forecast.
The paths in the snow are joining the 20-30 tents just like on khutor near Dikanka.
We are digging in the reserve.
Going down!
We are going to spend the night at the third camp.
Acclimatization.
McKinley City
The next day we are taking everything that is ours with us. The second passing of the Windy Corner. Again everything¡¯s going well.
Later on the descent the Windy Corner came into its own. Stroke us with wind, threw down into the snowdrifts.
It is difficult to walk. The fatigue has built up and what is more the altitude was rather considerable. We are settling at the edge of the camp ¡°McKinley ¨C City¡±. Our neighbours are from Japan. Their group is going upwards to fix the automatic weather station that is located at approximately 5800m.
Excellent!
Everything is going according to schedule.
Tomorrow is the first and well deserved day off.
But where are the Ukrainians? Down at 3900m. Tomorrow will probably climb up.
The deserved day off
The day off starts with a subbotnik!
Light drudgery at the snowfields. Ivan reports into the camera:
1. A plane surface is worked out,
2. Accurate firn bricks are cut out with the snow saw that¡¯s been hired out,
3. The present wall is straightened with a spade (we have two of them),
4. The new bricks are put on top.
The result of subbotnik:
- Over 500 kilograms of firn has been extracted.
- The height of the wall from the south is almost 2 meters.
- Inside the ¡°yard¡± surrounded by the firn slabs is an ¡°imported¡± fire-place and fridge.
Now, inside is our territory.
Overstep the boundaries and here¡¯s Alaska, getting inside and it¡¯s your own territory.
Clouds are passing by, fine snow is falling. To the north of us is a track to ascent the narrow col to 4900m. You can see the black dots in the distance. These are the mountaineers. Some are going up, some are coming down. Everything is breathing and moving.
Cheery mountaineers are going down as they¡¯ve managed to climb the mountain. But there are sour faces because after 4-5 days of staying at the top camp at 5200m they did not make the ascent.
Due to the bad weather.
Somehow or other, but according to statistics, every second mountaineer fail at McKinley¡
Rise to 5200m
The reserve is carried by Ivan and Doctor. We¡¯ve decided against an early departure. In the morning the path is in the shadow and in the evening the temperature fall to -20.00 Celsius. We¡¯ve tried to master the Fahrenheit but gave up.
We are coming out to the fault ridge. The cliffs brighten up the scenery after the long way on glaciers. There are several short sections with the hand-rails. We are passing the last meters, and crossing the glacial slope. Finally, we can see the tents of the summit camp.
Four hours of work. We have achieved our aim!
The first connection is awaiting us so that we could celebrate this with a cup of tea! We are descending to 4200m. The descent takes 2 hours.
Morning
Second day of resting and acclimatization before the climb. The person who¡¯s on duty in the kitchen is crunching with snow behind the tent and rattling with the crockery in the chimney-fridge. Occasionally, peddlers are strolling around the ¡°McKinley City¡± offering to leave the products and fuel, so as not to carry the excess down.
We¡¯ve poured out about a litre of the given fuel in the burner. Just in case. All this time, we¡¯ve been cooking using this fuel.
We have gas and two gas-burners for the upper camp.
We¡¯ve prepared earnestly. The only thing we don¡¯t have is the firewood! Joking.
Studying the experience of our neighbours.
Some of the expeditions have light umbrella-type tents as part of their gear. A saloon-like pit is dug out with a table pillar at the centre; a pole is put into the table that supports the umbrella ¨C ¡°skull-cap¡±. As the result you get a bungalow with a circus tent kind.
It is very sunny in the morning and for this reason all the gear, boots and inner soles are spread out for drying. Ivan and me are going to the rangers¡¯ tent to inquire about the weather.
Our hearts sank once we have read the three days weather forecast¡
- We are promised two days of the fine weather for our planned climb!
A front of high pressure is coming to our help!
-------------------------------------------------------------
Everything was OK until we came out the next day to the fault ridge at 5000m. Two fronts have tightened around us! In reality it was as follows. We are walking along the fault ridge. And the fronts are overblowing tons of snow straight through us! It had an effect of wind tunnel. It just happened so that we were the only ones who went up that day. It¡¯s most likely that part of mountaineers from other groups turned back. But we could not back down! Keeping on walking, head to one side, so far it is bearable¡
There are no free equipped stations at 5200m. We are settling at an almost open place. As before, it is a heavy snowstorm. I could not see myself, however, I paid attention to Doctor.
His face was covered with a mixture of snow and ice. Spitting image of Santa Claus!
Strict, but very business-like!
I put my tent at someone¡¯s snow fence with one side. Covered the other side with the snow brick at the skirt. Reckoned¡ and covered one of the entrances. It turned out to be a half igloo.
We got inside. There was no wish and strength to light the burner or cook anything.
The wind is trying to blow off the tent. However, it cannot catch on anything!
Our Doctor hereto is called Doctor! He brought thermos with tea!
We can feel the altitude. Lack of oxygen. An attack of hypobaropathy.
I¡¯m casting glances at the side wall in snatches of sleep, watching the level of snow we are covered by.
Every cloud has a silver lining! Strong wind is blowing. It throws a scoop of snow over the tent and blows it off simultaneously! Wind tunnel.
Storm prospecting
¡°Come on out and fall in!¡±, Ivan is fussing outside. ¡°Get prepared to get out! Time for acclimatization!¡± The weather is getting better.
We tied up, put on the crampons and set off towards Denali with no luggage. The ascent took up two and a half hours.
Snow and icy slope is passed in a skew traverse and simultaneous belay through the snow anchors. It is said that last year two mountaineers have fallen down and died here.
We picked over the swell and estimated the possibility for the further climb. There is a draught!
We began the descent to 5200m.
The mountain disease eased up thanks to the procedure of ascent-descent. And the weather became better. We have settled into a circle on the snow ¡°glade¡±, made dinner and holding an optimistic artistic conversation.
Venerable Polish mountaineer with a bag in his hands has called on us. He¡¯s already climbed the mountain.
¡°You¡¯ll be amazed all the time! There will be one turn after another! The distances in reality are larger than they seem from here. Be prepared. Furthermore, there is a surprise waiting for you right before the very top!¡±
He left us the products and disappeared!
THE PEAK
Behind is the swell of Denali, we keep on in pairs along the fault ridge. Submitting to the scale and the altitude we are moving rather slowly. The northern peak of McKinley is revealed for the first time on the left. The wind is throwing some clouds from the south that are twisted back by the cold front straight away. It is possible to see everything up to the horizon from the left and nothing on the right. We are passing just another ascent and coming out to the ¡°football field¡±. It is very cold over here. And we do not particularly want to stop.
Someone leaves their backpacks in the middle of the field.
It¡¯s time to see the peak!
But it is still invisible!
Ascending the saddle.
A curved, ice and snow ridge with the ice walls is in front of us. It stretches into the distance and¡ disappears in a cloud which came from the south-east and covered the peak almost completely along the ridge.
We stopped at the saddle to have a snack.
We keep on observing. Perhaps, it will clear up?
However, the cloud is simply rolling over the ridge showing now and again our further way.
Getting up and walk along the ridge, balancing as if we were walking down a rope. Now and then, we cannot see anything.
Stopped.
Continue walking¡
Ivan was already at the top,
Victoria came to a halt observing Ivan¡¯s behaviour and trying to understand it:
¡°What? Is that it? Hurray?¡±
Doctor was dangling somewhere near the ice wall, and worked with the mountaineering requirement with all his might.
And me, your humble servant, was still in a complete fog and ignorance with a camera and in mere 30 meters away from the top, in the expedition that was still going to Mount McKinley!
As it is, we¡¯ve pulled each other to the misty and for this reason mysterious peak.
¡°We have spent four years achieving this goal!¡±, exclaimed Doctor.
We are standing there, our small but varmint group, and cannot see anything further than three meters.
We are setting the flag of Surgut!
Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!
Setting the flags of the expedition¡¯s partners!
Hurray!
We are at the highest point of the continent of North America, the highest point of the USA.
Circumpolar pick McKinley (Denali) 6194 meters above the sea level!
I¡¯m going straight and a little lower of the snow-driftsite, now I can see the signs of the peak. A metal capsule with an orange tap on the side is peeping through the snow. A wooden, orthodox cross that is accurately tied down with an anchor is nearby!
The Russian expedition lead by Oleg Bonar was here before us.
My friends are pulling me down: ¡°Hey, what¡¯s up with you?¡±
¡°Just a moment!¡±
This is it!
We¡¯ve joined two parts of the world on the 60th parallel!
Going back home!
Translated by Polina Kolodeznaya.


