November 29, 30 Dombai

The first day was great. We slept in and then as a group we hiked toward the border of Georgia. About three hours into our hike, we met a forest ranger. He said that we would “have problems” if we traveled any farther. Knowing about the war in Georgia, we opted to hike back to the hotel. That night we had a traditional meal and then we played poker till the wee hours of the morning.

Matt, Heidi, Jamie, Amelia, Jason and Ethan

The next day is a day that I will never forget. For some reason half of us were not feeling well. Jason, Ethan and Amelia took off early for base camp on Mount Mussa Achitara. Matt, Heidi, Jamie and I met up with them at a restaurant for lunch after the gondola ride (pictured on the Left). The gondola starts at 5412 feet above sea level and travels to the first base camp of 7415 feet. This base has several restaurants, café’s really and a weird hotel like thing. We all had lunch together in a place with one of the most spectacular views I have ever experienced (pictured on the right). After lunch, the two girls went off snow shoeing. Jason, Ethan and Amelia went back down the mountain, and Matt was getting really sick. He waited at the café while I went on my journey to the top of this mountain. I really wanted to go to the top of the mountain and peak this thing. I decided to go off on my own.

First of all, I did not realize how cold it was going to be at the top of this Mountain. Second of all, I should never have been by my self. Regardless, I took a chair lift up to the second area of café’s and shops. This second area was 8200 feet about sea level. From there I took another chair lift. As the chair lift got closer to the top, I realized that I was not adequately dressed. I normally do not get cold, and my legs were starting to get numb. Now I was 9857 feet above sea level. I could see the summit and I was determined to peak this Mountain. I started off at a good pace. After about ten minutes, I was tired (To the right is pictured the second haft of the assent.) I decided to count my steps. Every fifty steps, I would take a sixty second break. After several of those, I made it to the top. The view was spectacular. I took a bunch of pictures and then started to head back.

This is a spectacular panorama!

Oh Yea, I made it to the top!

As I went down, I wanted to get some more shots of the ski hill and the town of Dombai. They were constructing a new gondola and I decided to check it out. The sun was starting to go down and I knew I should go back. I was walking on a path along the top of the ridge. To my right was a large bowl. To my left was a fairly steep drop off. I was admiring the view when all of a sudden the path gave way. For the most part, the path had been made up of rock and some snow. This particular step happened to be on a clump of snow. Before I knew it, I was falling down the mountain. Now when I say falling I mean I fell up to my chest in snow. When I tried to move, more snow started pushing me further down the mountain. I stopped moving. Carefully, using the hiking poles that I had with me, I climbed on a horizontal line towards the top of the ridge. After slipping several times, I made it to the top. This whole ordeal took about fifteen minutes. I fell a total of about fifteen feet. When I got to the top, I realized that I had ripped a hole in my jeans. Now, I was wearing snowboard socks that a came up to the bottom of my knee. I was also wearing mesh shorts under my jeans. This three inch rip, was right across the top of my knee cap. This was the only part of my leg that had no protection under my jeans. Slowly, I looked through the hole only to realize that I had a huge gash in my knee. I was still about two hundred yards from ski lift. Could I make it? I started walking. My knee was stiff, but it seemed to be working all right. By the time I made it to the ski lift, my pant leg was covered in blood and it was getting dark. To my dread, the ski lift was not working. They had turned it off for the day. Two maintenance men were by the lift. I pleaded with them to radio or call down for help. They said they did not have a radio and phones don’t work up on the Mountain top. I would now have to walk down the mountain. Not only would I have to walk, I’d better hurry because the next lift was going to close.

It was hard going down those 1804 feet. The mountain was steep. Not only did I have to walk a long way, this was tough walking. The snow was several feet deep. I often sunk up to my thigh in snow. At one point, I just sat down and coasted for almost fifty yards. (The picture on the left shows how far I had to walk down. You can barely see the tip of the building to the left of the last ski lift tower.) As I came up on the next ski lift point, I watch it stop. Oh boy, was I going to walk down even further? Praise the Lord, as I came closer to the lift I noticed the operator still waiting near the lift. I had made it. They were going to turn it on one more time in order for all of the staff to go home. Mean while, people started to notice that I was bleeding all over the place. A kind woman offered to help. She poured Vodka all over the wound and we tied a plastic bag over it to help stop the bleeding. It took some effort, but I made it back to the hotel. I waited again for the gondola and I walked back to my room.
Map of the Mountain with details of where stuff happened.

How badly was I hurt? I had no idea. As I unwrapped my wound, I knew things were bad. I would have to get medical care. Was that even possible in this Russian village?