Russia
18,513′,5642 meters
Summited August 11, 2011
7 Summits Climb for Alzheimer’s
About Elbrus
Climbing the highest peak in Europe was more of a cultural experience than a mountaineering accomplishment. That said, climbing on summit day was challenging and rewarding, and I found Russia a great place to visit.
Violence in the Elbrus region had made my August 2011 climb on the south side with International Mountain Guides (IMG) tentative at best for many months. The US, European and local Russian guide services canceled one trip after another when local authorities officially closed both sides of the mountain for climbers.
The south side is the more popular option, given that it is easier, shorter and has more facilities. On the other hand, the north requires a long drive on horrible roads, a longer summit day and more load-carrying. But Elbrus, one of the 7 Summits, has a strong appeal. So, some teams continued to bypass checkpoints and successfully summited from the rural north side, albeit taking a few risks and inconveniences.
I got the word from Phil Ershler, co-owner of IMG, while on Denali in mid-July that he was forced to cancel our south side trip but would do everything he could to help me find a quality guide service if I wanted to climb from the north. Phil understood my 7 Summits Climb for Alzheimer’s and my strong desire to keep my 2011 schedule.
With Phil’s above-and-beyond professionalism and friendship, I signed up with AlpsIndustria (Alps) out of Moscow at the last minute to climb Mt. Elbrus’ north slopes. I Skyped with Alp’s liaison, Victoria, the week before I left to arrange a Russian Visa. I rebooked my flights with CTT Destinations (Pirjo) and wrapped my head around a more difficult climb than anticipated. It was only 15 days after I had returned from Denali that I arrived in Russia. Without Phil, Pirjo and Victoria’s help, this climb would never have happened.
Getting to Elbrus
I flew directly from Denver to Frankfurt and on to Moscow. After a night at the overpriced airport hotel, I flew on to Mineralniy Vody, where Victoria greeted me at the airport. She introduced me to one of their senior guides, Viktor, who grabbed my 57lb (26kg) duffel and threw it in the back of the aging Land Rover. We drove the modern two-lane roads, navigating traffic jams, to the picturesque spa town of Pyatigorsk. Vicki helped me get checked into the hotel, and I took a nap before my American roommate, James, arrived.
Our team consisted of seven Russians, all from Moscow, plus James and me. We had a briefing with Vicki, who spoke good English, but we struggled with some of the nuances. For example, if we were to summit the east or the true summit, the western one, she said it depended on the weather, the team and the guide. This is kind of important for someone wanting to make all the true seven Summits!
We left the hotel the following day in a caravan of one Land Rover, one Land Cruiser and one Russian version of a Volkswagen van, complete with custom seats facing one another. All that was missing was the shag carpet on the ceiling. I felt like I was back in the ’60s.
The drive to Base Camp took us through a maze of roads, leaving the asphalt for well-maintained dirt ones and onto barely functional dirt paths. The Russian van performed flawlessly. It must have some kind of low-end torque, with the engine mounted over the front wheels, that allowed it to climb very steep, muddy hillsides. Our driver, Yuri, who also rented gear, drove with total confidence and abandon. Did I mention there were no seatbelts?
It is an understatement to describe some roads as “roads” because they were simple wheel tracks in grass or dirt. If it had been raining for days, the roads would have been impassable. We only saw 4-wheel-drive vehicles. The road would often make hairpin turns or go up or down at steep angles, banging us around the van. All of this was well above the tree line, but the countryside was covered in green grass, the towns felt like relics of the past, and the cows looked like cows.
Elbrus Camps
Arriving at Elbrus North base camp was a mixed feeling. Multiple companies with their tents were spaced quite close together but within plastic fences. You see, it was in the middle of a huge cow and sheep pasture, so the fences not only marked the companies’ spot but also kept the livestock out. Overall, it was a pleasant scene with the green grass and steep hillsides surrounding the pastures. You could easily see both snow-covered peaks of Elbrus from the base camp.
We slept in two-person tents and ate in a large Weatherport-style one with a long table and folding chairs. Our dedicated cook was very friendly and made some nice meals. They had a generator to recharge electronics and for lights at night.
The route to the High Camp was very similar to climbing a 14,000-foot California or Colorado mountain. The clearly worn path rose steadily through sharp river gullies onto large fields and then back up rocky moraines until it reached the High Camp at 12,000′. I estimate it was only a few miles and a gain of 4,000′. It was hot in the midday sun.
Elbrus is a volcano, so the entire area is covered with volcanic rock and interesting lava flow formations. The High Camp is next to the glacier or snow fields, on the edge of volcanic rock. There is not a lot of space, so once again, the tents are spaced very close to one another, and if the neighbors are noisy, it can be a long night without earplugs. Elbrus is directly in front of the camp, but you cannot see the actual tops of the east or west peaks from High Camp.
The schedule had us arrive at base camp, hike to the High Camp, where we left our summit gear (boots, layers, harnesses, crampons, ice axe, etc.) and return to Base camp. We never had to carry any group gear. Then we moved to High Camp and took an acclimatization climb to 14,000′ to an area called Lenz’s Rock, a series of large boulders and rocks jutting out of the snow. The next day was a rest day, then the summit push.
Our team of 9 was slowly coming apart, with one person leaving early and two others questioning their ability to attempt the east summit. But I was driven to make the west summit to claim the top of Europe for my Alzheimer’s cause.
In simple, broken English, I quietly explained to Daniel that I was climbing the 7 Summits and already had three completed (Vinson, Aconcagua, Everest) and needed to get to the west summit. He immediately understood, smiled, and simply said, “West,” so we had a plan. James was also interested in the west summit, so we had a team.
Summit Push
We rose around midnight on August 11 and ate a simple breakfast of rice and raisins, the same breakfast every day at High Camp. Our team of three left, and a separate team of five left a few minutes later. The wind was blustery, but the temperatures were in the mid-teens, so it was not too bad overall. I never needed a heavy down jacket, as my Patagonia belay jacket, along with a couple of mid-layers, was perfect.
The route takes a direct line to Lenz’s rock up the glacier. It was frozen hard, so we had a good time. But the lower glacier had open crevasses, so we roped up in that section. I had punched through one a few days earlier. We took a quick break at the rocks for Daniel to smoke, which had become a standard procedure. We took another direct line along the rocks to the saddle between the east and west summits before veering to our right, west, towards the west summit. About midway through this section, we roped back up and crossed another area of open crevasses.
Nearing the west summit, the area took on a different feeling. In the saddle, you could finally feel the actual height of Elbrus. Daniel pointed out a few yellow tents high on the north side of the west summit where nine climbers had died in a storm. A reminder that this was a serious mountain if the weather took a turn for the worse. But we were lucky with clear skies, a bit of a breeze and acceptable temps, so we made the push up the final 1,000′ to the summit plateau of the west summit.
From here, it was a short 15-minute walk across a basically flat snow field to a final climb of about 50′ onto the small true summit of Europe. A sign in Russian marked the spot, along with a large rock that resembled a head (Lenin?).
The view was excellent, with Daniel pointing out the “Russian Alps” and all the famous peaks in the surrounding Caucasus Range. The Black Sea was to our west, and the Caspian Sea to the east. Georgia was to the south, and, of course, Russia was to the north. While a bit hazy, I felt the touch of all the cultures on top of this peak. Also, I felt grateful to once again send the message of hope, need and urgency for Alzheimer’s.
We spent about 15 minutes on top, and it took about 4 hours to return to High Camp and Base Camp the next day.
Summary
I don’t think I would have gone to Elbrus without the 7 Summits Climb for Alzheimer’s: Memories are Everything®. But now that I did, I am glad. I found the Russian people from drivers to restaurants to guides to organizers; friendly and helpful.
The countryside was similar to other parts of the world, with grass-covered rolling hills leading up to the rocks of the high-altitude mountain environments. Elbrus itself was unique with its snow-covered twin peaks.
I found it interesting that so many professionals from Moscow were climbing, seemingly with no intention of summiting but just enjoying the outdoors. It was nice. My teammates were incredibly friendly and helpful with my three words in Russian: yes, no and thank you!
Thank you, Russia and Mt. Elbrus, for your generous hospitality!
Climb On!
Alan
Memories are Everything®
Elbrus Resources:
7 Summits Climb for Alzheimer’s

In late 2010, I launched the 7 Summits for Alzheimer’s campaign, where I wanted to climb all seven (eight) of the Seven Summits in one year. The first summit was Vinson in Antarctica on December 9th, 2010. This was the last summit on October 25, 2011. I had made every summit except Denali, which was stopped by weather, 3100′ short of the summit.
I have been able to send our Alzheimer’s message of hope, need and urgency from each continent, reaching over 12 million people and raising money for research, awareness and caregivers. In 2025, I will continue to dedicate my climbing and public presence to honoring my mom, Ida, and raising research funds for Alzheimer’s nonprofits. Please consider a donation today.