Russia's successful Winter Olympic bid will draw even more visitors to Europe's highest peak, but climate change and runaway development are marring the mountain's majesty
Text and photos by Pavel Antonov
Unless you lived in pre-1989 Central or Eastern Europe, the name of Vladimir Vysotskiy is unlikely to ring a bell. Vysotskiy was a singer with a voice as harsh as the system we all had to live in, but also as beautiful as things beyond the system's reach. "Like Mount Elbrus, and the mountains we still haven't been to," he once sang.
Now, 30 years on, Elbrus has many visitors, and an even greater number of visitors seems likely. Europe's highest peak will likely serve as an alpine skiing venue for the 2014 Winter Olympics, but the effects of climate change are being felt here nonetheless. Continuous glacial melting and extreme temperatures are making avalanches more frequent and less predictable — in other words, a catastrophe waiting to happen. In addition, ongoing human activity, much of it poorly planned, is ensuring continued disruption of the mountain region's natural balance.
Mount Elbrus actually consists of two peaks: Western and Eastern. At 5,642 metres, the 'Caucasian prince' stands 832 metres higher than its Alpine runner-up, Switzerland's Mount Blanc. Surrounding Elbrus like loyal vassals dressed in icy armour are a number of peaks that are imposing enough in their own right: Kogutay, Cheget, Uzhba, and Dongozarun Azau Git Chiget Kara Bashi — the latter meaning 'Black Peak on the Ridge between Dongozarun and Azau.' Gurgling steams and waterfalls lay hidden deep within the protective shade of thick forests, while indigenous Caucasian wild goats (turs) frolic undisturbed over moraines and volcanic rock.
A chairlift reaches heights and sights that can make visitors dizzy, and an occasional snowboarder or two cuts back and forth over snows lasting into midsummer. Tourism in the Northern Caucasus has revived quickly since the end of the war in Chechnya. Over 350,000 visit the area each year, and numbers are constantly on the rise, according to Amiran Zamilov of the Prielbrusie National Park Directorate.
A brand new Poma gondola lift began operating on Elbrus last January alongside its Soviet-era predecessor. Shops, market stalls and glossy, private hotels are mushrooming at the foot of the ski pistes, and the perfectly formed mountain flanks are being chewed away because of excavation work for new buildings and parking lots. Construction equipment, debris and waste are accumulating in the verdant valleys, which is typical of the poor planning and lack of state control mechanisms throughout many parts of Eastern Europe.
