This is a short story about how unpredictable the mountains are. Weather in the mountains. If you want to laugh mountains, tell them about you plans.
I asked to the people, who had hunted already on the Caucasus, when decided to hunt for the tur there. Igor Gaidukov and Alexey Belyakov told me about its changeable and treacherous weather. They spent two days in the tent because the rain didn’t allow to leave it. That’s why I discussed in all details the hunting terms and conditions. They suggested me to arrive in July - the mid of summer. It's hot there and the chance to get bad weather was low. But I decided to be ready for everything if a cloud appeared and rain would start for an hour and a half. I took waterproof coat and clothes, water-resistant bags, a warm sleeping bag and was ready to wait the rain out if it happened. Asif, who was the outfitter of the trip, knew well that the chance to get the trophy became higher when the hunters stayed and lived in the mountains. He was all for that variant from the very beginning. But I rejected it immediately and irrevocably – I was ready for daily loads and strong tension, but at the same time I wanted to sleep in normal conditions. It wasn’t mine that he suggested!
The beginning of the hunt was difficult. We arrived to the camp, accommodated and began to prepare for climbing but it was not. A cover rain had begun - it poured and poured. I didn’t sleep well the previous night and was tired that’s why I slept like a baby. I fell asleep instantly.
It was raining all night.
Nobody woke us up at 7am as we agreed in the evening it meant that the rain was going on. It lasted for a day. So, in the rain, we met the holy holiday of Ramadan for Muslims.
In the evening the clouds lifted and one of us detected the tur on the slope. After a short discussion we resolved to approach it. It was our mistake: the grass was wet, the ground has turned sour, the clouds had not dispersed… As a result, the horses went only a fifth of the way and got up, then we had to go on foot. It'd be better to say that we should climb up. But there was worse. The trouble happened when stones fell from under the feet of the one walking in front (more precisely, climbing higher). They disturbed other stones and rolled down on our heads with a crash. How we dodged was known only to the God (apparently, our time had not yet come).
There was need to say, our approach did not end in anything. Although this word is also inaccurate. It finished in the darkness when I fell down to the stones. My back and elbow were bruised so badly that it's better not to remember.
Most important was that we went for hunting on a Saint holiday and angered Someone Who should not have been angry. Because of this, everything happened. Hunters are very superstitious.
The first hunting day was over.
The next day it brightened up in the morning, and we were ready to conquer the mountains again. I forgot to mention that there were two more hunters Mario from Spain and Dmitry from Russia. Mario was a young, full of strength hunter. I saw how he shot, listen to his stories where he hunted, he was an experienced mountain hunter. Dmitry just started his hunting career, he wasn’t experienced yet but was fond of mountain hunting. I came to mountain hunting after decades of hunting for birds, hunting with dogs, in the corrals, trophy hunting and hunting abroad. It wasn’t clear for me how the hunter began to keen the mountain hunting not having enough experience. He was in his early fifties, in good physical condition, fit, shot well and had all necessary equipment. And he was not afraid of climbing to the top. Later he explained me that tried to overcome his fear of mountains in that way.
The Internet warnings of the Hydrometeorological Center that rains were expected for at least four days-until July 21-did not affect us. We quickly convinced ourselves that if there were even three drops , the Internet would surely draw rain. We'd survive three drops somehow. And everyone left.
The guys went to storm the ridges, and I stayed to explore the nearest gorge. We divided everything into zones so as not to interfere with each other.
In the morning, at lunch and after lunch, the weather fully corresponded to our ideas about the Internet reinsurer. The sun was peeking through the clouds, the breeze was blowing. We were cold though the Internet promised that we could burn. There was no rain, and there was no result. We tried to approach twice but without any result. But we saw turs.
“After a lunch” ended at 6 pm. The rain began. It was light from the beginning. But then it became stronger. Finally, it ran as fast as he could. Then a hard hail bombardment began.
Nariman, who accompanied us, looked at the sky, assessing the situation, and philosophically said: “Let's wait”.
We covered with raincoats and sat for about thirty minutes. If we knew it was the beginning we would have immediately run to the camp as fast as we could. Be we didn't. In a half of an hour, it became clear that there was no chance to wait it out. We saddled the horses and began the operation "Retreat”. It was incredibly slippery; the stones and the ground were treacherous. Everything was wet. We should stop in 300 or 400 meters - the hail bombardment began. We hidden under the tree where the poachers were used to hide their weapons! But the hail did not to stop – the rain with hail beat as if it passed the TRP standards. It even became stronger. Thunder filled the ears, and lightning cut through the leaden darkness of the clouds and hit the rocks with the obsession of a mad animal. The thought occurred to me: would our lonely tree become their next target? After a brief, almost wordless meeting on that topic, they rushed away from this place.
What's next: ride a horse or walk? We decided that it was still more dangerous on horseback. If you slip on foot, then you don't fall very far – as they say in the movies from a height of human growth. It was more dangerous to fall off a horse. On the last day, we got two turs, loaded them on horses, but it turned out, the horses were afraid of the smell of blood, and the one that was under me, threw the rider on the rocks; my diagnosis was a bone bruise and a cracked rib).
Another respite in the dense forest did not change the situation for the better. I was soaking wet. Water squelched everywhere. The waterproof suit of a well-known American company did not save at all. It seemed to me, there was no protection from such an amount of moisture.
It was still a long way to the base, but we must go, and go quickly.
The main danger that lay in wait ahead was the river. Everyone understood that it could become impassable with such a downpour …
I don't remember the last time I ran like this, keeping up with young mountaineers who know a lot about walking in the mountains. It reminded me of the painting by Konstantin Makovsky "Children running from a thunderstorm". Water, water, water everywhere, even under the armpits! I couldn’t to explain how we miraculously managed to save the radio from the water – there was literally nowhere to hide it.
We all had one thought – how were the guys on the crest of the cliff?! Would the tent withstand the blows of a hurricane wind and such a stream of rain? It's probably not even rain, but solid ice grains and hail the size of a pigeon's egg up there…
Let's run. Soon we heard the river. It sounded louder than we wanted to hear.
Nariman, our PH, warned us that if the water rose, it would be certain death to cross it! We should spend the night on the shore. That was certain death – there were no tents, we couldn’t make a fire, everyone was wet, the temperature had dropped to about five degrees. Again, a flash of thought: what about the guys up there?!
"His premonitions did not deceive him." The stream was bubbling, dragging stones along the bed, and this stream of the suddenly black river could turn a horse easily, let alone a man.
It was a miracle but we found the place where could cross the river. I didn't understand what was flowing from me – streams of rain, sweat, river water. After crossing the river, I thought how nice would be to heat the oven in the camp. I could think only about it, everything was forgotten - how we were afraid not to cross the river, to catch a cold ... The main thing was to dry and change clothes.
Thank God, the stove was being heated. Out cook Timur, a city dweller, could not heat the stove with raw wood in such a rain. The beekeeper helped him out. As a person who lived in the mountains, he realized that it was necessary to help out, to heat the stove. Diesel fuel helped to ignite raw firewood.
I felt what had happened over the past two hours only when I got under the roof. First of all I took off all clothes. Water flew from it so much that the cook thought that the roof the house was leaking. One towel wasn't enough. I thought that every cloud has a silver lining because I didn't need a shower. I changed clothes, drank wiski and realized that everything was over and I was save. But guys who stayed in the mountains, what did they feel? You begin to understand how weak a person is in front of nature after such a blow of the elements. None of the photos or video would show the horror we had been through.
We could contact by radio with one of the groups just on the next morning. They told us that they were alive but we didn’t know if they were well or not. They had to walk knee-deep in snow, plus everything was covered with clouds-nothing was visible.
We couldn't contact with the group where Spanish hunter was. He would never forget Azerbaijan if he survived. I was not sure if he agreed to visit the country once again.
The shepherds who came down to us (and they lived in these mountains for decades) told us that they would not remember such a thing. They worried for the cattle. The sheep huddled together, cuddled and warmed each other, and this is what they were saved, but the shepherds did not know what to do with the cows. As one of them said: “They could fly away”. The other shepherds would be looking for them.
The cows on the base, hid under the shelter and only horses stood on the open air meekly under the blows of the elements. The locals worried about a newborn foal but it remained alive.
Mario came back in two days. He took everything with fortitude as a young man. He sat four hours under the incessant hail, he'd never forget it. He was saved by a good tent and a sleeping bag. But nature found a way to take revenge on the indomitable Mario. He burned on the second day and the skin was peeling off his face in patches. The only way to ease his suffering was Depantenol lotion.
I write it not to entertain the audience or to throw out emotions on paper: here, I got caught in the rain and hail and I suffered from fear and turned sour. I've been through a lot of fear and I don't hide it. The strongest fear was for guys, who had even worse than me, and we were worried about them first of all. The purpose of this article is to tell about the unexpected and warn that the miner needs to be prepared for such force majeure.
The main thing for Dmitry and Mario was the choice where to set up tents – on a hillock, not in a lowland, but at the same time a place partially closed from the winds that could tear down any tent in the mountains. The second was actually a reliable, properly installed and fixed, waterproof tent. The third was a good sleeping bag.
The elements are not eternal, but it will be extremely difficult to hold out wet under gusts of wind without a good tent, without protection at a temperature of about zero.
During my hunting life, I froze in Siberia, in the Barabinsk steppe at a temperature of-54 ° C. And got bronchial asthma of the 1st degree as the result. I was cold in the Kyrgyzstan mountains. As a result, I and my outfitter Anton Schneider had bilateral pneumonia. I was trapped by ice on the flood meadows of the Ob. I was attacked for times by wounded boars, an elephant and an ostrich! Everything happened. Hunters are at risk. The main thing is not to panic and prepare yourself in advance for possible difficulties.
