One day is similar to another, everyday routine and life. You walk in a routine circle, drowning in monotony. But your friends don’t let you get bogged down in gray everyday life. They tell you how many interesting and beautiful, unprecedented and amazing things there are around. This is so inspiring. This simply cannot help but inspire! Moreover, somewhere in the far corner of your consciousness you store and remember these places, because you lived there, were there, but did not have time to know practically anything.
That's it, thanks to my close friends from Nalchik (Kabardino-Balkaria), where I once lived, we went on a fascinating travel to the North Caucasus.

Through the intricacies of fate in the distant 90s, my family ended up in this beautiful republic. Here, one might say, my golden school years, youth, carelessness passed, and real friends appeared. The friendship that we have carried through the years and time, and which we still cherish. Everyone already has families, children, worries, work, other cities, but our heart will always remember those times and love that city where you wrote many important pages in the book of life.
And what kind of wind blew us into Dagestan, you ask? Oh, there was a miraculous coincidence here too. I really wanted to go to the sea; the closest one from Nalchik seemed to be the Caspian Sea. And then my close friends from Moscow go to their friends in Makhachkala, and my friend’s friend and I go to the friends of my friends. Complete brain explosion
But this, in general, is not important, because this is the Caucasus - the most hospitable region on earth, about which legends are made. Guests are always welcome here, and even more so friends. Therefore, we immediately set off on the road to the North Caucasus.

“Oh, roads... Dust and fog...”

We covered the road to Rostov relatively easily. We had an overnight stay in Bataysk with our friends, and the navigator decided to “show” us the city. At the entrance to Rostov we were met by a huge traffic jam for many hours. I assume that most were traveling towards the sea.
But the next day the traffic jam at the exit from Bataysk turned out to be even more impressive, and the state of hopelessness was greatly aggravated by the wild heat.
People moved into ravines, roadsides, fields, anywhere, trying to get out of this “captivity.” Several tens of kilometers of road repairs turned this section of the route into a real transport collapse.
On this trip, we were incredibly lucky to have people who became kind of guides for us in difficult situations. This time our savior turned out to be a Rostov taxi driver, who, for a fee, took us out of the traffic jam using roundabout routes and saved at least 3 hours of precious time.

Then things got more fun. Soon we were driving along the M29 Caucasus highway, which at times looked deadly. Repairs are also underway there in some places, but the flow of cars is much less, so we were happy to watch as the landscape began to change outside the window.
Left behind: Minvody, Pyatigorsk,

and hello, Kabardino-Balkaria!

Contemplate, enjoy, love!

I don’t know why, but I strongly associated the trip to the North Caucasus with the wonderful work “Eat, Pray, Love,” where the heroine goes on a long journey to find herself.
But I wanted to rephrase this call and make it a kind of motto for myself during our journey. And you know, I got it in full!

Contemplate

Contemplation for me is akin to suddenly slowing down in a running stream, forgetting about everything and enjoying the moment. To be here and now. This is an incredible feeling of lightness and flight, freedom and knowledge. You may not even immediately realize what has changed in you, but nothing happens for nothing, nothing passes without a trace. Inside, invisible strings play the melody of your soul, and you dissolve in the surrounding beauty and become part of a beautiful and amazing world.
I will definitely tell you in more detail about the places that made my heart flutter. And now I’ll just show you contemplative shots where time stopped for me.
Chegem waterfalls. The element of water, a stream under which you feel like a small grain of sand.

Bottomless Blue Lake.

A tunnel in the Cherek Gorge and an abyss with a raging mountain river.

The mountain village of Upper Balkaria with ancient history and landscapes of unprecedented beauty.

Elbrus region.

“In the bustle of cities and in the flow of cars
We are returning - there is simply nowhere to go!
And we go down from the conquered peaks,
Leaving in the mountains, leaving your heart in the mountains.
So leave unnecessary disputes!
I've already proven everything to myself -
The only things better than mountains are mountains,
Which I haven’t been to before.”

V. Vysotsky

You really can’t imagine anything better...
Honestly, these are places for which it is not only worth, but necessary to go to Kabardino-Balkaria. The sensations you experience when you rise above the clouds, the expanses that open before your eyes, are the best things that can happen to you while traveling.

This was the most exciting adventure for us. We climbed to a height of 4,200 meters to the snowy peaks of Elbrus.

From above, the Main Caucasus Range shocked us with its harsh beauty.

The ride up Mount Cheget by chairlift was no less exciting.

Dagestan gave us unforgettable sunrises and sunsets.

And the relict Samur forest has become a treasure trove of discoveries and finds.

Enjoy

Oh, what I didn’t enjoy on this trip. And nature, and weather, and communication. But one of the most exquisite and enjoyable experiences was enjoying Caucasian food. Hand on heart, I can say that in none of our travels have we tried so many varied and incredibly delicious dishes.

Finally, I ate my fill of my favorite khychins, which I simply adore.

Mmm... the mere memory of all this deliciousness makes my mouth water.

A true pleasure of taste.

Love or long way home

In general, all good things come to an end, and so our journey was coming to an end. Kabardino-Balkaria remains a tender, green, trembling beauty in my heart.

And Dagestan is remembered for its dusty gray houses, scorched landscapes and absolute chaos on the road.

There are completely different rules here, according to which if you don’t play, you’ll be called a loser. And you will be doomed to the eternal contempt of real horsemen.
And this, unfortunately, is not a joke. It will be very difficult for people with a fine nervous organization to join the flow and feel comfortable in this chaos. I felt complete dissonance with Makhachkala; I did not catch or feel any consonance at all.

But Dagestan finally gave us a wonderful gift. We decided to return home a different way, bypassing Chechnya, Ingushetia and Ossetia. We drove through Kizlyar and the Stavropol Territory. I haven’t felt such pleasure from the road for a long time. The endless Nogai steppe and us.

I didn’t expect that the scorched steppe would make such an indelible impression on me. We were surprised, because... The desert landscapes that we saw while driving through half of Dagestan did not evoke any special emotions. And here... you can see the energy is completely different. I wanted to contemplate, enjoy and love at the same time!

Unfortunately, we still lost a lot of time in traffic jams due to road repairs and terminals. Heat, dust, fatigue, it seemed like it would never end.
The Tula region greeted us with a simply breathtaking sunset. The horizon was on fire. And I rejoiced at the greenery, birch trees, ponds and fresh air.

And then the understanding came that I had come home.
You know, I periodically thought about what to call the Motherland. The place where you were born, where you got married, or where you live now. I was born in Kazakhstan, then our family moved to Kabardino-Balkaria. And already at a conscious age I came to live in Tula. And every time this question puzzled me.
Watching fields, forests, and village houses flash by outside the window, I acutely felt how much I love these places. I feel at home here, not as a guest. I returned to my homeland...

Travel to the North Caucasus

All my adult life, to the best of my ability and ability, I have been traveling and doing active tourism. I have been to various “mountainous” corners of the country, including (almost 30 years ago) the Caucasus.

This year, the anniversary was already approaching, and, perhaps, the only gift for these days was my desire not to go to a boring job, to take time off and, at least trivially, at home, drink vodka and get plenty of sleep. However, the wife decided everything differently. It turns out that she thought through everything in advance, saved money for a long time, studied the Internet and the possibilities of going somewhere together. And she gave me one of the most wonderful gifts of my life. She gave me the CAUCASUS!

Caucasus with the CTO regime. The Caucasus, which has recently become synonymous with terrorism. Here, the day before, taxi drivers were killed, they tried to blow someone up, and somewhere in the outskirts, brothers from another gang were killed. And the Caucasus highway was blocked with impassable snow.

The plan that my wife initiated me into looked very much like an adventure. I couldn’t help but remember “Prisoner of the Caucasus”, Zhilin and Kostylin, the brick factories of Dagestan, Budennovsk and Buinaksk - and everything in the same spirit, all in one pile, in one piggy bank of doubts. But, as you know, there is a simple principle in martial arts: “If you are not sure, take a step forward.” And we did it, informing our parents (so as not to worry) that we were going to ski not in the North Caucasus, but in the Southern Urals, in Bashkiria. And now - an airbus, flight Salekhard - Moscow, Kazansky station and a well-maintained train to Vladikavkaz, smoothly carrying us into the night. And a cozy, modern carriage, where as a bonus you get food, mineral water, a bag with toiletries, soap, toothpaste, a brush and here... disposable and almost white slippers...

Early morning, Mineralnye Vody station. Right at the carriage we are met by Sharapi, the driver of the Gazelle, who is supposed to take us to our destination. After 3 hours of driving along a corridor illuminated by headlights, on the sides of which from the darkness one can see silhouettes of trees, then some kind of small settlements, or bridges that cross the Baksan River countless times; After ascents and descents that make our ears slightly stuffy, we are at our Virage hotel. Cozy glowing letters of the name. It’s dark all around, and maybe only with some almost unconscious feeling does one feel the presence of something big and significant nearby.

I feel that from the height – out of habit – I am slightly “led”. The hotel has a simple, homely atmosphere. Magomed Proud (Zalikhanov) treats us to coffee.

The criterion for choosing this hotel by us (that is, my beloved wife!) was its proximity to the slope and ski lifts, and reasonable prices. What is very important is that they serve food here not according to a schedule, but at any time - from 8 am to 12 midnight, so we are free to choose not only the menu, but also the daily routine and food regimen ourselves. And the food here is not only “local”, it is very tasty and satisfying. Portions prepared here and from natural products are large and inexpensive. Magomed, with a broad gesture, announces to us the rule: - if you don’t like the food, you don’t have to pay for it!

I look out the window - it’s already dawn. And suddenly, like an avalanche, a feeling of delight and real happiness covers me, which, even now - in memories - does not let me go. I see something that I have not seen before in the darkness of the early morning. I see MOUNTAINS!

Further in my report, I plan to limit myself to only relatively brief explanations of the photographs (which are actually 20 times more than I post). But why then am I so verbose now? “I’m just analyzing what happened and trying to understand myself.” In this suddenly surging and never letting go of grace and euphoria that descended on me that morning. This is really important to me.

Yes, I probably subconsciously wanted to return to the Caucasus for a long time. Many of the names of the mountains, hiking and mountaineering routes along them are familiar to me. I dreamed of visiting them, but it never happened. Yes, this is a return to the land of my youthful dreams.

Or maybe there was an effect known to some at work here - the feeling experienced by a person who has experienced severe mental or physical trauma, or an illness on the verge of survival - and the subsequent recovery from this state, which suddenly radically changes his attitude towards life. And now she is truly beautiful!

Yes, probably, this factor also takes place: I was let go by the ordinariness and even the joylessness of everyday existence and the considerable doubts and fears that we experienced before the trip to the Caucasus. Everything went away, dissipated somehow all at once!

And further. Do you know the feeling of delight? This is when the chest is full of air and yet is a little short of breath. He is INTERCEPTED. Perhaps here it is due to lack of acclimatization and the altitude. This temporary physiological feature of any organism also gave an impulse to the brain. And he, with feedback, also “read” it as a feeling of joy and delight. Then everything was completed by the vastness of the sky and the immensity of the blue mountains, the magnificent crystal world at our feet, the warm attitude of those around us, the whole atmosphere, and, probably, Elbrus itself, on the slope of which I spent my 50 years.

Do not judge strictly. In the photographs (except for the second) the crowd of transport, people, skiers, snowboarders and other manifestations of recreation and active life are practically not visible. This is just MY view of the Caucasus. On its mountains, and a little on life in the valleys.

Our hotel, morning of the first day, altitude 2300m above sea level.

Glade Azau is especially lively on weekends, when people from all nearby places come here to ride. Here, as in Cheget, and in ski areas in general, there is a local market and many places where you can eat deliciously and relax.

The glade is located in the upper reaches of the Baksan River, at an altitude of 2350m and is the exit to the south-eastern (and then southern) slope of Elbrus and to three ski lifts: a beginner ski lift and two more “high-mountain” ones - with trailers for 30 standing places and cabins for 8 "seated" places. The last 2 lifts move in parallel. The first stage is the “Novy Krugozor” station at an altitude of 3000m, the second is the “Mir” station at an altitude of 3500m.

Higher up, you can sometimes take a chair lift to the “Bochki” shelter (Garabashi station, 3780m). Here and higher (in winter) - to “Shelter 11” (4200m) or even higher, to the Pastukhov rocks (4800m), for a fee, snowcats or powerful snowmobiles with dashing mountaineers at the wheel will take you.

There is construction going on everywhere around the villages and ski lift stations and there is a sense of some incompleteness of this process. I would like to believe that over time everything will be sorted out and this corner will be equipped at the highest level.

The supports for the third stage of ascent have already been installed up Elbrus. Future visitors to the Elbrus region, without putting in extra effort, will one day be able to rise to an even greater height than now.

And here is that old hard worker - a trailer.

Cabins against the backdrop of slopes and mountains

Sometimes, if you look closely, literally from the windows of a hotel or hotel on high snow-covered slopes you can see aurochs - mountain sheep.

There are several of them in the frame, I’ll zoom in on the bottom one

In the Great Patriotic War, in the battles for the Caucasus - according to the latest data - about nine hundred thousand defenders died. Low bow to you and Bright Memory! Thank you for the holiday of life that you gave us!

The museum at the Mir station is small, and I would say poor. Interesting guide and exhibits. As a former climber, I am also interested in the equipment of those years. These best examples were probably not available to many THEN, but now they are hopelessly outdated. In general, the museum makes you think, “try on” those conditions of war and battles. And, indeed, there comes an understanding of the immeasurable, silent, sometimes unknown feat that was accomplished here...

It seems that people don’t come here often these days. What - alive - alive.

Cheget (about three kilometers from the Azau clearing), a hotel and tourist area near the chairlift on the slope of the mountain of the same name. The first step is two-chair (bench for 2 people) - up to the Ai cafe. The second stage has single seats.

In winter, you can get from the Azau clearing to Cheget either through the forest or along the road, through the village of Terskol, which we can now see from above. The village itself is interesting because back in the ancient Soviet times (somewhere) LEATHER ski boots with the same name – “Terskol” – were produced. The mountain training center of the Ministry of Defense of the Russian Federation and the Elbrus High Mountain Search and Rescue Squad of the Ministry of Emergency Situations of Russia are also located here.

Now, from the slopes of Cheget, we can see Terskol from above.

Cafe Ay, view of Elbrus. It is approximately 12.5 km from here to its peaks

Mount Elbrus is the highest point in Europe, has 2 peaks with heights of 5621m and 5642m meters above sea level. Having no serious technical obstacles, Elbrus is nevertheless difficult to climb mainly due to the impact of high altitude on the human body. In the battles for the Caucasus, in history and even in the results of the war, this world-famous mountain played a very remarkable role.

During the conquest of Russia, German Germany set among its main tasks the seizure of ore-bearing regions of the Caucasus and, most importantly, control over Caspian oil. Western Siberia had not yet been developed, and by depriving Russia of fuel, Germany had a real chance to end the war faster and with a different result.

The deployment of mountain divisions to the Caucasus (1942) was carried out secretly, without unnecessary fuss. The Germans fortified themselves here thoroughly and for a long time, on “Priyut11” and on every high-rise, until the commander of the First Alpine Division “Edelweiss” decided to take the initiative. As a political action, preparation was carried out, and then the raising and hoisting of the standards of Nazi Germany on both peaks of Elbrus.

Europe and the world learned that German domination had been established in the Caucasus and the highest point of Europe.

Hitler was furious. The “quiet” penetration into the Caucasus was thwarted, and the Russians, having understood and realized the enemy’s strategic plan, urgently began to assemble and move their companies and units to the Caucasus and Elbrus.

Here we must return to our days. The general warming of the climate, the melting of snowfields and glaciers began to reveal unexpected finds. On hiking and mountaineering trails, next to ski slopes, after almost 7 decades, glaciers encircling the approaches to Elbrus began to reveal themselves and return ammunition, unexploded mines, and weapons. And the remains of unknown soldiers who fell here... and even unaccounted for in military archives.

Another hidden or hushed story about an unknown battle on the slopes of Elbrus. Another reminder of war next to the carefree nature of a bustling ski resort.

As it turned out later, this was the first unnumbered consolidated company (hastily assembled from people who had neither ranks nor military training, under the leadership of Lieutenant Grigoryants, a former... ladies' hairdresser) which was given the impossible task of not only containing the elite units of the enemy, but also capturing "Shelter 11". Without any equipment or mountain warfare skills or any weapons, they moved into the snowy highlands and, taking advantage of the fog, almost approached the enemy’s fortified points.

But... the weather is changeable and the fog has cleared.

In the bravura German photo chronicles of those years, you can see footage of how the Germans shot our soldiers from high-rise buildings with machine guns. Exhausted and practically defenseless.

The approaches to Elbrus are surrounded by a continuous network of glaciers and glaciers. And if, with experience, you can move in crampons on firn or runny ice, almost without wasting time, then the passage of a glacier is always more unpredictable, difficult, and requires movement in cords.

The glacier, where the soldiers who did not have special equipment and mountain training retreated during the battle, was “closed.” That is, the cracks, sometimes bottomless, were hidden by snow. Snow, which did not always support the weight of a person. So the remaining soldiers of this company disappeared. The first one to lie in the snow and ice of Elbrus.

The story of a doomed attempt to contain the enemy. A small episode of a big war, where there was one goal - to defend our borders. And win. At any cost.

In the village of Terskol, on a hillock, recently there has been an inconspicuous monument to these fighters. Some of the found remains were moved here. Some of the names are known. The names of the rest are kept by the silent slopes of Elbrus. – This is a small story, one of many. Just a hitherto almost unknown, private episode of the war.

But let's return to Cheget. From the stations of the first and second ascent, a wonderful view opens not only of Elbrus, but also of the Mountain Range on the other side, and of the Baksan River valley. Here you can easily find a place where you can relax and have a tasty snack. Chebureks of this size and delicious taste can only be found in the Caucasus!!!

Army men. Mountain troops, contract soldiers from Terskol. Young, healthy and very strong guys in all mountain disciplines. They can climb high on Elbrus on foot or on skis (“ski touring bindings, kamus”), and can descend from it like alpine skiers. And so - several times a day. Now they are preparing to descend from the slope of Cheget.

The ski slopes of Cheget are characterized as one of the most difficult in the world. The trails, due to the steepness of the slopes, cannot be serviced by snowcats; there are no signs or fences here. This is a wild, uncultivated, rutted slope, the descents of which do not imply the possibility of slalom, since non-stop descent is practically impossible. The descent often resembles moguls. There are icy areas at the bottom of the route, which is also not fun. Although if you are looking not for pleasure and comfort from skiing, but for difficulties, this is the place for you.

On a winter day, the valley quickly plunges into shadow, becoming cool and uncomfortable.

When faced with choosing a place where we should go for the “winter holidays,” my wife read on the Internet something like the following lines: “if you decide to come on vacation to Cheget, then this is only your problem.” Briefly, but especially understandable when you visit here. It’s good here, but still, the Azau clearing is better in every way!

Ushba (accent on the last syllable) is a two-headed mountain as part of the Main Caucasus Range, the height of the southern peak is 4710m, the left “spur” in terms of plan is Mount Shkhelda (4320m)

“Shelter 11” is the highest mountain shelter in Europe, at an altitude of 4200m. It is named after the number of expedition members who first selected and cleared the site for the construction of the building.

The three-story structure in the form of a metal-clad airship was built before the war, in the thirties, and for many decades served as a refuge or temporary shelter for scientific services, tourists and climbers. Shelter 11 burned down due to oversight in 1998. The building of unusual architecture, which fits so harmoniously into the slope of Elbrus, serving as a kind of symbol of the local highlands, can now only be seen in old photographs and videos.

“Shelter 11” was located next to a small rock, where you can see memorial plaques and read the names of those whose bright souls remained forever connected with this mountain.

And the shelter now serves as a former boiler room, located a little lower, also having an oval-shaped base. This is an abandoned building, covered with snow, where, if necessary, you can really rest and spend the night.

I got inside the second floor through a broken window covered with a blanket. Inside there are rooms, bunks, blankets, food. You can say - live and have fun. But here you can really feel the influence of altitude: some lack of coordination, shortness of breath and slowness.

I managed to get into the first floor. It turns out that both Shelter 11 and this building had a system steam heating. What's notable inside today is a stack of portholes and some metal plates with spikes and chains. Something incomprehensible from “those” years.

Returning to the history of the fighting on Elbrus, we can tell another story. The Germans occupied Shelter 11 without a fight - there were only two Red Army soldiers and three scientists there, whom they took by surprise - because at that time, as I already said, no one knew about the secret operation and the plans of the Germans. Everyone was expecting death, but they were sent down to report that the Elbrus region now belongs to Germany. The continuation of this story - some time later - was the appearance of Sergeant Grigoryants' company here, the fate of which I have already told.

Shelter Garabashi (“Barrels”), southern slope of Elbrus, altitude 3780m. Behind it (6 km) are the peaks of Donguz-Orun (4468m) and Nakra (4277m). Between them, on the sidelines, is the Semyorka glacier.

Only high-quality acclimatization helps to have a good holiday in the highlands. To do this, you need to periodically go down to the lower valleys and lead an active lifestyle. Therefore, we are again on foot along the forest path, heading to Cheget

Nearby, from a rocky gorge, from the glacier of the same name, the Garabashi River flows into the valley.

To be in the Caucasus and not eat barbecue from time to time is simply unacceptable! However, I note that it is most soft, juicy and tasty when your Caucasian friend orders it for you. There is no “burnt” alcohol here. Of the cognacs, we liked Lezginka the most, of the vodkas, the mischievous Gulyaka, and the only beer I drank was Terek. Among soft drinks, lemonades “Elbrus” and “Duchess” are beyond any competition.

In the Elbrus region, in addition to skiing (or snowboarding), you can find recreation for every taste and budget. Here you can go sledding or various inflatable bagels, go hiking, skiing, horseback riding, quad biking or snowmobiling. You can also hunt or fish here. All year round.

Here, for example, is “Rakhat”, a private flowing trout pond surrounded by gazebos. Winter ice fishing is now possible. The trout you catch will literally be turned into a delicious dish before your eyes.

And again to the Mountains!

Old cable car, trailer, Mir station, altitude 3500m.

The photo glares, so I translate the contents of the caption: “Zalikhanov Chokka Aslamovich climbed Elbrus 209 times. He made his last ascent to the eastern peak of Elbrus on his 110th birthday.”

This is also an interesting story that I came across. The name in the photo seemed familiar to me, I asked Magomed a question, and as it turned out, the owner of our hotel is a relative of this grandfather!

But maybe this exaggeration was said as a joke or as a “sweet spot”?! - Not at all! Later, Magomed’s acquaintance Alim, with whom we traveled by car, said that Chokka Aslamovich in Moscow had “big people” in two ministries, either 2 sons or 2 grandsons (I don’t remember). And so they often brought friends and colleagues with them in order to take them to Elbrus. Despite the years, grandfather never refused to accompany the group on the ascent.

Mir station with Elbrus in the background.

Modern high-altitude technology.

Fragment of the closed Azau Maly glacier.

Descent – ​​route from Mir station.

Army soldiers on the slope of Elbrus.

View of the Azau clearing from above.

Goodbye Elbrus!

Near the Krugozor station.

“When we leave, we will leave, we will fly away,

When we ride our cars,

How empty the paths will suddenly become,

How lonely the peaks will be without us..."

Nine days flew by like an instant. Bright and happy.

Early in the morning, when we left the Azau clearing, hotel workers came out to see us off. In the cool morning, women shifted on the steps at the entrance and wished us a good journey. A lump came to my throat.

Finally, we had a car tour of interesting places in Kabardino-Balkaria. The following shots and a sea of ​​positive emotions would have been impossible without Magomed, to whom we turned with a question:

What other attractions are there nearby? – it was he who recommended Alim, Sharapi’s son, to us, who turned out to be a wonderful conversationalist, guide and driver.

Near molybdenum mines...

Do you remember movies where the Great American Canyon (Grand Canyon in Colorado, Arizona, USA) appears in the frame? The Upper Caucasus can rival and even surpass the most famous mountainous places in the world in beauty, absolute heights and diversity of mountain terrain...

And again there are snowy mountains ahead.

Chegem. A truly beautiful place, carrying in its name the intrigue that Fazil Iskander once created. The Abkhaz writer, writing “Sandro from Chegem,” settled his characters in the idyllic world of a small village Chegem, which in fact... is not on the maps of Abkhazia.

And further. During this trip, I involuntarily got the impression that everyone in Kabardino-Balkaria knows each other in one way or another, are acquaintances of friends, or are even close or distant relatives. The law of survival of any people is in unity, in joy and in sorrow. Here they remember all their relatives and their ENTIRE clan, all their acquaintances, guests and just fellow countrymen. For the Elbrus region, this includes Kaisyn Kuliev, Dima Bilan, Vladimir Vysotsky and the local seer Mikhonya, Elbrus climber Chokka Zalikhanov or even Nikita Dzhigurda. Everything here is connected by invisible threads, which are based on memory, honor and dignity, the physical and moral impossibility of casting a shadow through one’s actions, disgracing one’s family, one’s relatives and friends.

One of the remarkable features of the Balkars is their Human Dignity. During all the days spent in the Caucasus, I NEVER noticed in communication a shadow of unfriendliness, hidden ridicule or servility towards us.

In the photo are Alim’s acquaintances. Before the introduction of the CTO regime, they were engaged in jeep tourism in the most remote and intimate corners of Balkaria. Now they are circling the horses. You should see with what natural grace they move along the streets of their village!

We go deeper into the mountains again.

Beyond the village of Khushtosyrt, following our path, we find ourselves in the SU-Auzu (“water throat”) gorge, where the famous Chegem waterfalls begin.

The length of this section is 5 km, the road changes from coast to coast 5 times due to steep cliffs. The height of the walls is up to 300m. The height of the ridge is about 3000m, the bottom of the gorge is at around 1100m.

The overwhelming majority of the local population does not drink or smoke. However, everything necessary for the usual joys of the average Russian can be found here without difficulty. Some drinks have a touch of Caucasian exoticism.

The cafe, whose premises are carved into the body of the rock, is traditionally cozy. You can write songs about Caucasian cuisine.

And again the road.

Another beautiful frozen waterfall on the Andaisu River. Its height is about 30 meters.

Our road then breaks out into an enchanting expanse,

then again squeezes into the mountain gorges,

or even goes through the thickness of the mountain in a tunnel.

No, we're still not in Arizona.

This is the multifaceted CAUCASUS, stunning in its beauty and uniqueness!

In Kabardino-Balkaria there are mosques in almost every village. Usually small and almost standard (this is an exception). We did not see any Christian, Jewish or Buddhist places of worship here. “Interpenetration of cultures” occurs only on the territory of Russia. And here is Islam.

People live their usual lives, but the Caucasus is still changing. Excellent roads have been built here, gas has been supplied to the mountain villages, and you will no longer see a cart drawn by oxen, or an elderly mountaineer riding a donkey hung with packs. There are no yaks, much fewer racehorses, and now on the streets you won’t see a shepherd or a buster in wide (almost “breeches”) pants with a leather bottom, like they sported in the mountains about 30 years ago.

In the local mountains you can walk along old trade routes, visit ancient settlements and tombs, see villages abandoned by people or ancient towers.

You can also see rows of monuments on the mountain slopes - places where entire villages were destroyed in the 30s.

Did sad thoughts inspire me with this image? In the outlines of the mountains, against the background of the sky, I see the silhouette of a sleeping mountaineer. I hope this is the guardian of the valley, and not the face of the Leader of All Nations.

Memorial plaque at the mosque. Only people capable of preserving memory can be called the People.

And again the road. Sometimes at the very edge of the cliff.

Bottomless Blue Lakes. Greetings from Roma...

All good things come to an end. We move away from the mountains, and they are gradually covered with a curtain of twilight and fog. The beautiful, moving, deeply moving performance is over...

Autoexpedition "Caucasus Unknown"

On the slope of Mount Elbrus

This trip cannot be called anything other than a crazy adventure. A few months ago, in the fall of 2017, I went as part of the crew on the “Unknown Caucasus” automobile expedition to the southern regions of our country. Why is the journey crazy? What else can you call a thirty-day car trip with two small children so far away?! Not a pleasure ride, but a real trip in rally mode - eight thousand kilometers, a whole month on the road.

Already on the road, I asked myself the same question more than once: why did I do this? An intense research expedition, full of risk and uncertainty, in a wild rhythm, when you only have time to unpack your bags and children at night, and the next morning you are on the road again. Only flashing road signs, steppes, sunrises, sunsets and new mountains...

And the answer is on the surface. Six years on maternity leave is like seven in Tibet! Perhaps this expedition is the only opportunity to escape from the monotonous life of the capital’s metropolis, to see unusual Russia, such regions as Chechnya, Dagestan, Ingushetia, Kabardino-Balkaria, North Ossetia. Finally, just spend time with the kids and husband, combining racing with work.

Start of the road expedition "Unknown Caucasus". Moscow, Vorobyovy Gory. 09.21.2017

The second crew consisted of a married couple of Muscovites, beginning pensioners with a cheerful disposition, Andrey and Alla. The start of the road expedition was postponed for a long time and eventually took place on September 21, the day of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary. The entire trip took place under Her protection. Surprisingly, during the entire time there was not a single car breakdown (not counting the double-broken tire of the second crew), no poisoning (which often accompanies travel), no colds in children, and not even a single serious quarrel.

City of Five Mountains

After two days of tiring travel, we found ourselves in the Stavropol Territory. Pyatigorsk is the most attractive city of the Caucasian Mineral Waters. We arrived at the hotel long after midnight, and first thing in the morning we started looking out of the windows for the famous mountains Mashuk and Beshtau. By the way, Beshtau is translated from Turkic as “five mountains” (or “five peaks”) - hence the name of the city.

At the foot of Mount Beshtau

Having rested slightly after the two-day race and only having upset the children with the catchphrase of the entire expedition “we will not return to this house,” we went to the city. Our guide was Larisa Logvinenko, head of the “Caucasian Pilgrim” service of the Pyatigorsk and Circassian diocese.

I wanted to leisurely wander through the old streets of Pyatigorsk, as Griboedov, Pushkin, Tolstoy, Glinka, Lermontov, Chaliapin once walked along them. Try to imagine the era of the 19th century, the former townspeople and numerous vacationers, drink mineral water, admire nature. But, unfortunately, only one day was allocated to this piece of paradise in our schedule.

Ostap Bender, the hero of the novel by Ilf and Petrov, while chasing twelve chairs, made an excellent advertisement for one of the local attractions. Lake Proval and the cave of the same name inside Mount Mashuk. At Proval, the great schemer took money from Soviet workers for entry - so that “Proval would not fail too much.” But today you can see the cave lake completely free of charge; in front of the entrance, visitors are greeted by a chair and a sculpture of Ostap Bender.

Lake Proval in Pyatigorsk

Having traveled around Mount Mashuk, we found the place of the duel and death of M.Yu. Lermontov. Walking near the brick church to the old cemetery, Larisa Logvinenko showed the poet’s original burial. Later his grandmother E.A. Arsenyeva insisted that the ashes of her grandson be transported to the Penza region - to the family estate of the Lermontov family in the village of Tarkhany.

When his life was cut short, Mikhail Yuryevich was only 27 years old - quite a mature age at that time to have already written dozens of poetic masterpieces and entered the history of world literature. I'm 28 now. What have I managed to do over the years? The feeling that life is just beginning...

Place of the duel M.Yu. Lermontov. Pyatigorsk

The children whining from fatigue in the back seat suddenly quickly returned from thoughts about the meaning of life to reality. Without having time to enjoy Pyatigorsk and without even tasting the water from the famous mineral springs, we rushed on - to meet Elbrus!

To the top of Europe

Mount Elbrus is the highest point in Europe (height 5642 meters) - located on the border of Karachay-Cherkessia and Kabardino-Balkaria. Several years ago, my husband Sasha “fell ill” with the mountains, and the dream of climbing to the top settled in his heart. And the route of our road expedition just passed through Kabardino-Balkaria, near Elbrus.

Turning right near Nalchik from the main highway, the cars in the evening twilight went deeper into the gorge of the Baksan River. The river itself could not be seen in the darkness, only somewhere nearby one could hear the menacing roar of a stream running from the mountains. The unfamiliar night road was fraught with many dangers: either a cow or a horse would run out of the darkness, or at a turn in the mountain serpentine the roadway would suddenly disappear, ending in a cliff... Where until recently there had been asphalt pavement, now there were temporary fences, behind which water seethed among the stones and rubble . Warning signs indicating road works are in progress and a detour sign.

I immediately remembered that a few days before our start, a natural disaster occurred in Kabardino Balkaria: a mudflow came down from the mountains in the Baksan Gorge, bridges were flooded, several sections of the only highway were demolished and destroyed. But we were able to see the consequences of the disaster only in the light of the next day.

Consequences of a mudflow. Kabardino-Balkaria

On the Baksan River. Consequences of the mudflow

Consequences of a mudflow in the Baksan Gorge

We arrived for the night, as always, in deep darkness, and in the morning we were awakened by the same noise of the Baksan River and the mooing of cows. Mountains were looking at us from the hotel windows!

Do you know Edvard Grieg's "Morning" suite? It was this melody that sounded in my head when I went out onto the balcony. The majesty of the mountains and green meadows, horses and cows grazing in the distance, the music of nature, unusual for a city dweller - fatigue gave way to delight.

Baksan River. Kabardino-Balkaria, Cheget.

The second crew (our friends Alla and Andrey), in order to get away from the grueling race, went to wander along the picturesque banks of Baksan, and the children and I went to the village of Azau. Here the road ends and the mountain of dreams - Elbrus - begins. Having found a cable car station in Azau, while the weather permitted, we jumped into the lift cabin without hesitation.

A spacious cable car car takes everyone up to an altitude of 3200. There were impressionable tourists with cameras, and tough, athletic people with large backpacks with ice axes peeking out of them. You immediately feel respect for such daredevils, and even envy - these guys are not here for a picnic, but to conquer the peak.

After walking at an altitude of 3200, we saw the second chair lift. Then there are no more cabins; you can climb to an altitude of 3800 only on single chairs. Having distributed the children among us in our arms, we drove up, even closer to the sun. Those 10 minutes of the final climb were very intense. You are flying above the clouds, volcanic rocks and an abyss are under your feet, and the life of your child is in your hands.

And here it is Elbrus, two snow-white heads! We are on its southern slope, altitude 3800 meters. It seems that the closest peak to us - the Eastern - is just a stone's throw away, you can take an easy walk, it can be reached on foot in an hour. But you soon begin to feel that there is much less oxygen here, and every 10 meters at this altitude require completely different efforts.

Western and Eastern peaks of Elbrus. View from the southern slope

The children immediately began to feel sleepy - we were warned that this was the first sign of altitude sickness. If you notice drowsiness, children should be taken downstairs immediately - this is not something to joke about! After quickly drinking hot tea with chocolate above the clouds in the only cafe-trailer (to cheer up) and admiring the breathtaking views of the Caucasus Range and the double-headed Elbrus, we quickly went down.

Elbrus tea party. 3600 meters

“A smart person won’t get ahead”

According to the proverb, “a smart person can walk around a mountain.” But we do not claim this title. Having seen Elbrus, my husband and I decided to climb. Without training or mountaineering skills, just enthusiasm. If you don’t climb to the top itself, then at least try...

Leaving the children with Alla and Andrey from the second crew, Sasha and I went on an acclimatization hike to the Maiden Spit waterfall and the Elbrus observatory "Terskol Peak" (3100 meters).

What am I doing, where am I going, why? To be honest, I went on this risky adventure not at all out of love for the mountains, but rather because it was a super-unusual date! In Moscow there is somehow no time for this: work, obligations, five children. And here - just the two of us, among the clouds and harsh mountains, and even testing ourselves and our strengths. In a word, romance.

After the first acclimatization hike (these training climbs are required to adapt the body to the lack of oxygen at altitude), having rented backpacks, warm clothes and climbing equipment, we again climbed the cable car to a height of 3800, and did not descend.

Here the romance ended and the harsh mountaineering life began. A modest bed in a cool trailer, a high-altitude “country” toilet (a wooden cabin, drafty from all sides and hovering on the edge of an abyss above a thousand-year-old glacier), heavy felt boots with metal crampons, a ski mask from the blinding sun, an awkward down jacket and oversized trousers.

“You won’t wear them to a disco,” they explained at the rental office, “just to stay warm; there can be a very strong wind on the Elbrus Col.”

Here you no longer look around, enjoying the beauty of the universe, you don’t hear the birds singing (and they are no longer at this height) - here you only hear the beating of your heart. Or rather, you feel tachycardia, shortness of breath and other symptoms of approaching mountain sickness.

The next acclimatization climb was to an altitude of 4200, past the Shelter of Eleven (burnt down in 1998) to the Emergency Ministry station (orange trailer) and the monument to the dead climbers (a rock above a cliff, to which many signs with names, photographs and dates are nailed).

Emergency Ministry station on the southern slope of Elbrus

Rock monument to fallen climbers. Shelter of Eleven

Apparently, this time we took the pace too hard... After such a load, my body groaned: “Come to your senses, you’re a mother, turn back! Here you have a pulse of 120 and wild pain in your stomach.”

This was the end of my ascent to Elbrus - which, by the way, made the rest of our expedition members very happy. Still, physically I was absolutely not ready for such an ascent and my body needed much more time to acclimatize.

However, I didn’t have a dream to conquer the mountain, I just wanted adventure - and I got it. But my husband, Alexander Egortsev, stayed on the mountain and, despite the difficulties, still climbed to the top. He strived for this, dreamed of the peak for many months - and he visited there, saw the world from Elbrus, from a height of 5642. Probably, for him this was his own feat.

This, of course, is not Everest, but our great Caucasian “five-thousander” cannot be underestimated either. Every year people die on Elbrus: someone leaves the path and falls into ice cracks, someone, caught in crampons, stumbles and flies down the icy slope into the local “corpse dump”, someone lacks oxygen, has an attack of altitude sickness, fainting or the body simply cannot withstand the load - but help does not have time. But anyone who has visited such mountains at least once will never be able to remain indifferent to them. Even with the passage of time, these mountains cannot be forgotten!

Eastern peak and Saddle of Elbrus. View from the slope of the Western Peak

Alexander Egortsev on the top of Elbrus. 5642 meters

On the Western peak of Elbrus

While some people stormed the top, our children managed to climb all the stones and rocks around the hotel in a few days. “We conquered Mount Elbrus!” - the six-year-old daughter screamed, climbing onto another rock. A two-year-old son, climbing a pile of human-sized boulders, proudly repeated after his sister: “Mount Babus!”
And now, looking at these photographs, I again and again return in my memory to those days on the highest mountain in Europe...

"We conquered Mount Babus!.."

Descent from the top of Elbrus. Oblique shelf, height 5200

Dagestan

After such a storm of emotions, I wanted to rest, turn back to Moscow, and put the final point on our trip. But it was not there. Directly from Elbrus we go to Dagestan. Again the road, hundreds of kilometers in the car, we arrive in Makhachkala at the place of spending the night, as usual, late at night.

“Mom, we live in a palace,” my daughter marvels in the morning, waking up. Yes, indeed, the building of the Spiritual and Educational Center at the Assumption Cathedral looks more like a palace inside. This will be our home for the next week.

In the first days, I admit, it was scary to leave the church walls in a Muslim city. But one of the tasks of a road expedition is not to sit in comfort and warmth, but to get out of your comfort zone and explore new places, the atmosphere of unfamiliar republics.

Assumption Cathedral of Makhachkala. Dagestan

The next morning, leaving us in Makhachkala, my husband left at dawn alone by car for Kizlyar - the consecration of the new Holy Cross Church was to take place there. Meanwhile, I, taking the children in my arms, went to the bus stop to try to get to the city center and the Caspian Sea embankment by public transport.

I’m standing on the highway and don’t know which minibus to take or who to ask. A girl passes by with two children, dressed in traditional Muslim clothing, and I address her. The young mother willingly and kindly explains how to get there, specially waits with me for our minibus, having boarded us, asks the driver not to forget to drop off the tourists at the right point. There are no seats on the minibus, only women sit; To pay for the fare, you need to take off your backpack, but both hands are occupied with children.

“Let me hold the children,” “oh, give me the backpack, it’s heavy,” - before I had time to realize how my children were taken from hand to hand. “You should go out now, we have such a beautiful park, the sea is nearby, the kids will love it.” Here we are. And even if October is “off-season”, the sea and sand are always relevant!

The whole day passed in an unusually joyful and complacent mood. “And what a hospitable city it turned out to be,” I told my husband about our adventures in the evening, while simultaneously checking messages on social networks... And only then, among the mail, I saw either advice or a threat from some unfamiliar Makhachkala Russophobe: “Leave while It's not too late! Here's to you, grandma, and St. George's Day...

The mood, of course, instantly deteriorated. I became especially worried about the children - after all, we are here in full view of everyone... Of course, I immediately wanted to drop everything and leave as quickly as possible.

But there is no need to panic. Tomorrow we already have a task from Archbishop Varlaam of Makhachkala and Grozny - early in the morning they are waiting for us in Kizlyar at the annual religious procession.

Procession of the Cross in Kizlyar

From Makhachkala to Kizlyar it is 150 kilometers, we leave at 6 am with the first rays of sun. Kizlyar is considered the most Russian city in Dagestan, and the Orthodox religious procession is a unique and large-scale event for the entire republic. Several thousand people take part in the procession, many with children and strollers, Russian grandmothers with sticks, but also many young people.

Along with everyone else, I and my children are walking in a two-kilometer-long column, looking at the local townspeople with interest. At first you somehow want to get lost in the crowd, hunch over and close yourself off from the many eyes. “What are we, Orthodox Christians, doing here, surrounded by Muslims? They simply reek of hostility,” anxious thoughts rush through my head in a swarm. “We need to pray, harder, we can’t show our fear,” I decide. “Why am I so slouched, why am I afraid to be myself?” - the initial mental confusion gradually goes away somewhere, peace and joy appear from the solemnity of the event. I straighten my back, start smiling - and suddenly I notice that there is no hostility in the eyes of passers-by and spectators!

Local Dagestanis, Muslims, along with their children, poured out into the streets, looking at the Orthodox religious procession with interest and curiosity, some even waving their hands and greeting their acquaintances. It’s amazing how sometimes we project our own feelings and fears onto the surrounding reality, behind our “blinders” without noticing the really friendly attitude towards us from other people. As they say, all problems are in our heads.

Our religious procession ends at St. George's Church. The children sit on a hill near the church, near the eight-pointed Orthodox cross, and have a well-deserved rest. Festive tables are set near the temple, and everyone who comes is treated to porridge, pies and tea.

Probably, somewhere among hundreds of these people, Vera, Nadezhda, Lyudmila, Vera and the strange beggar Irina stood next to us - we did not yet know them by sight. Then it was difficult to even imagine that literally a few months later, on Forgiveness Sunday, a terrorist attack would be carried out near this very church in Kizlyar, five women leaving the service would be shot point-blank with a gun by a young non-human who burst into the church yard. Surely, we walked in this procession with them, then drank tea and pies on the church steps... And then we saw their faces in the obituary. They will be buried near their native temple, for whose loyalty they suffered.

After Kizlyar there was also ancient Derbent (a city more than two thousand years old) and the beautiful Sulak Canyon with the Chirkey hydroelectric power station. Having traveled a lot around Dagestan, I realized that we still know very little about this amazing republic, and television does not give any objective picture at all.

We were leaving Dagestan. The children clung to the car windows, saying goodbye to the seaside city they loved so much. “Mukhachkala!” said the daughter.

Ingushetia
On October 14 we arrived in the city of Sunzha. In the New Sinai Monastery on this day there was a patronal feast - the Intercession of the Virgin Mary. The Liturgy was served by the Archbishop of Makhachkala and Grozny. Our leaders Oksana Tikhomirova (president of the Orthodox Initiatives Foundation) and Dmitry Barannikov (director of the Caucasus - House of Peace center) also flew from Moscow to the celebrations. After the religious procession, seeing the participants of the auto expedition in the Church of the Intercession, Bishop Varlaam came up to us and blessed everyone for their further journey.

With Archbishop Varlaam and President of the Orthodox Initiatives Foundation Oksana Tikhomirova

“Since you find yourself in Ingushetia, it would be good for you to go to the mountains to the ancient temple of Thaba-Erda,” the archbishop advised. At the request of the head of the Makhachkala diocese, we were given a police car to accompany us, and immediately after the service we rushed along the Assinovsky gorge to the Dzheirakhsky district.

The road twisted along serpentines along the river, and the children, rocked to sleep, immediately fell asleep. They are already so tired that they will end up sleeping in the back seat for the entire trip through mountainous Ingushetia. They will wake up only in the evening, again in the Sunzhensky New Sinai Monastery.

The Dzheirakhsky mountain reserve is the pearl of Ingushetia, and, probably, the entire North Caucasus. Here we saw for the first time many ancient towers, abandoned villages turned into open-air museums, entire tower complexes surrounded by the peaks of the Caucasus ridge.

Tower complex "Egikal". Ingushetia

On one of the slopes behind the Russian border post, we finally saw the goal of our trip - an ancient Georgian temple called Thaba-Erdy. They say it was built back in the 10th century. It does not immediately catch your eye; outwardly it has a very laconic architecture. And only when you come closer, peering at the stonework and wall bas-reliefs, do you begin to realize the greatness of this ancient Christian monument in the mountains of the North Caucasus.

Christian temple of Thaba-Erda. Ingushetia

In the City of Angels. North Ossetia

North Ossetia, Beslan. There is probably no person in Russia in whose heart the tragedy of 2004 has not resonated. Families then went to the school assembly on the first day of autumn: worried fathers and mothers, timid first-graders, high school students inspired by hopes. The joy of the holiday gave way to horror, pain, fear, death. Militants captured school No. 1 - more than 1,100 people were taken hostage. More than three hundred people died, including 186 children.

Ruins of school No. 1, gym premises. Beslan

After 13 years, we enter the City of Angels with our young children. It's almost midnight and it's drizzling. “City of Angels” is a memorial cemetery on the outskirts of Beslan. Endless rows of granite tombstones. Everyone's date of birth is different, but the date of death is the same. Families lie in this cemetery. One, two, three, four graves with the same surnames - the whole family. In one of the photographs there is a three-year-old child: he apparently came to see his older brother or sister off to school. On another grave there is a photo of an elderly woman - a teacher or someone’s grandmother...

We wander between the graves, peering into the faces. Night time is not the best time to visit the cemetery. A security guard is heading towards us, apparently we are already tense, waiting for someone to reprimand us. “Here, I want to give your children toys,” the watchman suddenly turns to us. “Thank you for the memory.” And gives our kids plush animals.

I can’t even believe that death walked in these forests - nature greets us so joyfully now. But you can’t relax, it’s better not to turn off the path. Who knows what other “surprises” this land has kept since the war; there may still be mines or forgotten tripwires somewhere. Echo of war.

Memorial service at the site of the execution of warrior Yevgeny Rodionov. Chechnya, Bamut

On the banks of the Fortanga River. Chechnya, Bamut

Georgian Military Road

At the end of each week of our trip, already quite tired, I prepared to go home. But each time another great bummer awaited me - the expedition suddenly changed direction and continued on.

In Vladikavkaz, I had already begun to finally pack my bags to return to Moscow, but on the way out, my adventurer-husband suddenly saw a road sign for Tbilisi. It turns out that from here to the border with Georgia is just a stone's throw away. Moscow is almost 1800 kilometers away, while Tbilisi is only 198, 10 times less, several hours away.

Of course, we turned around and rushed into the Daryal Gorge on the famous Georgian Military Road. The last push, heading towards Tbilisi.

Temple of the Holy Archangels on the Georgian Military Road

We crossed the border in the late afternoon and immediately began looking for accommodation for the night. Ahead is the Georgian village of Stepantsminda. Suddenly, outside the car window, Kazbek’s snow-white cap appeared among the mountain walls, and even in the rays of the setting sun!

With delight, all fatigue instantly disappeared. It’s just that it’s gotten very cold outside, it’s heading towards winter, but our clothes from Moscow are light, autumn clothes. But we will solve all these problems tomorrow, and now go to sleep...

Trinity Church on the top and Mount Kazbek. Georgia

In the morning we did not recognize Stepantsminda. All around is white-white, snow, blizzard. Kazbek was gone, and there was a hurricane wind.

We hastily have breakfast and load into the car. We have only two options: either back to the border in Russia, or take the risk and try, despite the snowstorm, to jump over the Cross Pass to Tbilisi. Let's choose the second one. But the road is very slippery, it gets more and more swept away every minute, and the tires on our wheels are still summer - it’s unlikely that we will be able to overcome the Cross Pass.

Along the side of the road, dozens of trucks and trucks have already stood up tightly in the snowdrifts. Before the main ascent to the serpentines, the police block the road - only rare cars and jeeps with special chains attached to the wheels are allowed through. So what, turn back? But there is no way back down, it’s not visible, it’s snowy.

A Georgian comes up to us and offers to rent two chains for the front wheels for 5,000 rubles and follow him further, forward and upward. Madness, of course. But since I’ve already taken up the tug, don’t say it’s not great! It’s good, after all, that there is a well-functioning system for renting accessories for extreme driving. Go!

On the Krestovy pass. Georgian Military Road

In 30 days of travel, 8,000 kilometers were covered. A month in hotels, a month in a car, difficult travel, mountain serpentines, fatigue and the whims of children - all this will soon be forgotten. And impressions, unique nature, new friends and acquaintances, bright emotions and a charge of joy, fullness of life - all this will remain in memory. And for a long time we will dream about this expedition “The Unknown Caucasus”, and in the conversations of our children familiar names will sound - “Mukhachkala” and “Mount Babus”.

Maria EGORTSEVA
Photo by Alexander EGORTSEV

The “Unknown Caucasus” auto expedition was conducted from September to December 2017 by the Orthodox Initiatives Foundation with the support of the Presidential Grants Foundation. The organizational partner of the project is the Makhachkala Diocese of the Russian Orthodox Church.

Below you will find a very voluminous story, deliciously flavored with gorgeous photos, about a tourist trip through the Caucasus, to be precise, through Dagestan. Maybe someone will decide to go there on vacation after watching...

Dmitry Chistoprudov writes from Moscow: A standard telephone conversation with friends and acquaintances sounded something like this:
- Where where? In Dagestan? What are you doing? Crazy?
- Yes, everything is wonderful here. Hospitable people, mountains, sea, beauty! The only danger is that they can feed you to death.

Without a doubt, this was the most intense and rich in impressions road trip of this year. Crazy mountain landscapes, ancient villages with traditional artisans, hospitable and open residents, endlessly delicious food, tea parties and long intimate conversations in their native language. We traveled through a concentration of beauty, moving from one incredible place to another, always being late somewhere, constantly moving meetings and breaking the travel schedule. There was no other way.

1. This trip was a double trip in every sense. According to the plan, we were going to visit Dagestan in April, and go to the Elbrus region in May. In order not to waste time on long hauls, we decided to combine two trips into one double trip. From Dagestan we went straight to Chechnya, and on the first of May we made a short climb to the Terskol peak - to the observatory on the slope of Elbrus.

We had two cars. The brands are the same, but in fact completely different: Chevrolet Trailblazer and Chevrolet Niva.

In addition to our standard crew of me, Kolya nikolapic and his wife Yana ya_yankel , we were joined by the famous metrophotographer Sasha on social networks russos and my classmate Anton, completely unknown on social networks, with whom I studied side by side for five years at MSTU “MAMI”. We'll tell you more about Anton, but for now we'll just note that this man is an excellent engineer who kept an eye on the Niva throughout the trip, looked after it, and all the time tweaked, pumped, and topped things up.

Even in the very first photograph of the trip, during a stop in the Tambov region, when everyone is drinking tea and pie, and Anton is poking around in the Niva.

2. On April 18, early in the morning we left Moscow and moved south through Tambov, Volgograd and Elista without an overnight stay. At dawn the next day we entered the Republic of Dagestan. Until that time, we had never been stopped by traffic cops.

3. 99% of the photos on the way to Derbent are endless Dagestan gas stations. There will be a separate report about this.

4. We passed through the steppe part of the republic. Our goal was to get to Derbent in the evening.

5. Anton, an engineer, like a true patriot and owner of a Lada Kalina, drove along the roads of Dagestan and was sincerely happy, contemplating the endless number of Russian-made cars. Dagestan is a paradise for connoisseurs of AvtoVAZ products.

6. Towards evening we entered the southernmost city of Russia - Derbent. We were met by our future friend and brother Magomed Khan-Magomedov, who suggested a good and inexpensive hotel on the shores of the Caspian Sea. Only 500 rubles per person without breakfast. We checked in, drank tea with Magomed and passed out.

The modern architecture of Dagestan is not much different from the architecture of other cities in the country - all the same Chinese ventilation facades, foam blocks and plastic windows. Therefore, in my report you will not find photographs of modern Derbent. Rather, it will be views of old neighborhoods or sketches like this.

7. After two days of travel, I planned to have a fasting day. We had to get a good night's sleep, relax and spend the day leisurely walking through the streets of the old city.

At the beginning everything went according to plan. We wandered around the old mahals and took pictures. Magomed gave us a whole tour of the city and told us many interesting stories. The locals were friendly and hospitable. There was no hint of any danger or discomfort. No one was in a hurry to steal or kill us, but on the contrary, the residents of Derbent constantly invited us to visit us for tea, asked us about our trip and were sincerely happy that we were traveling around Dagestan. They drink tea here always and everywhere. Even during the overhaul of the KAMAZ engine.

8. The Kamaz driver said that he also recently arrived from Moscow. He brought goods 20 tons more than the permissible load, and now he is rebuilding the engine as a preventative measure.

9. One of the main attractions of the city is the Derbent fortress complex. This is an outstanding architectural monument, which includes the Naryn-Kala fortress and two long city walls, which completely blocked the narrow passage between the sea and the Caucasus mountains and went into the sea, forming a port.

10. A passer-by was walking in front of the gates of the city wall and humming “Figaro” with his soul. Noticing us, he came up to greet the guests and introduce himself. His name was Samir and he turned 76 that day. A very positive guy.

During our walk, we shook so many hands that you could shake hands in Moscow for a whole month. The smile never left my face and we spent the whole day like that.

11. Before the collapse of the Union, the city seriously monitored the preservation of the historical appearance of attractions and allowed construction only in a certain style. In the nineties, architectural anarchy came and people began to arrange their homes as best they could.

12. We were allowed to go through a private courtyard and climb onto a fragment of the old city wall. Imagine that in your garden there is a piece of a defensive wall that is more than 1500 years old)

14. Grandfathers on the bench.

Of course, we didn’t immediately get used to the fact that no one prohibited photography anywhere. People treated the photographer with interest and kind curiosity. The only exceptions were schoolgirls - at the sight of a camera they scattered.

18. Old women's bathhouse. Just recently she was working. Now it has been closed and the complex has been turned into a museum.

21. Juma Mosque is the oldest mosque in Russia. A former temple, captured a long time ago by the Arabs and converted into a mosque. Therefore, the entrance to the building is located from the south, and not from the north, as mosques should be (as it is written on Wikipedia, although, as it seemed to me, we entered from the north).

22. Young fashionistas.

23. Urban pastoral and the Naryn-Kala fortress towering above Derbent.

25. Radish seller.

26. The name Derbent translated from Persian means “narrow gate”. Derbent was located in the most strategically vulnerable place of the Caspian Passage, where the Greater Caucasus mountains come closest to the sea, leaving only a narrow three-kilometer strip of plain.

Derbent is considered one of the oldest “living” cities in the world. The first settlements arose here in the Early Bronze Age - at the end of the 4th millennium BC. The Derbent fortress is part of a grandiose defensive system that protected the peoples of Transcaucasia and Western Asia from invasions of nomads from the north. The system included city walls, a citadel, sea walls and the Dag Bara mountain wall. The complex was used for defensive purposes by the Persians, Arabs and Mongols for 15 centuries.

27. View through the defensive fortifications.

28. The total length of the wall was 3600 meters. The southern and northern walls ran parallel to each other at a distance of 300-400 meters. The once grandiose structure has survived only in fragments. The sea part of the wall extended 500 meters into the sea, blocking the entrance to the harbor. The most ancient part of Derbent is located between these two walls. The southern wall, like the later one, was largely demolished in the 19th century, while the northern one largely retains its original appearance.

31. Derbent.

34. School excursion from Untsukul district.

35. Dagestan cat.

36. The fortress offers a good view of the city and the Caspian Sea.

40. The director of the fortress, when he learned that guests from Moscow had arrived, quickly organized a table right on the territory of the complex and began to treat us to tea from the samovar. It was April 20, Easter Day, so there was Easter cake in the center of the table)

41. Obligatory bow in burka and papakha.

42. Well, after tea our plans changed a little. Magomed called his friends (and he has friends all over Dagestan), and we went to the Tabasaran district to a carpet factory. This is a different story)

Dagestan, Tabasaran. Journey for the carpet.

It is known that tea is made in India, cars are made in Germany, and magnificent woolen carpets are made in Tabasaran. I mean real, hand-woven pile carpets, the colorful patterns of which were invented many centuries ago. We went to Dagestan to learn as much as possible about this region - the country of mountains - and of course we could not help but stop by the place that is famous throughout the world for its carpet production - the Tabasaran region. By the way, the Tabasarans are the only people of Russia who continue to engage in the traditional form of national art - carpet weaving.

The well-known skepticism about “photography against the background of a carpet” has given rise to an unfair attitude towards it as an unnecessary, long-outdated thing. In addition, our apartments, in which everyone strives to express their individuality, are becoming less and less like the homes of our ancestors - and are often filled with meaningless things. But life flies by very quickly, and over the years you begin to understand the value of those things that were invented many generations ago. Yanka and I long ago realized that a carpet in the house is a useful thing, so we began to think about where to get it. The trip to Dagestan turned out to be just in time, becoming for us a kind of pilgrimage for the carpet.

Tabasaran greeted us with magnificent mountain scenery. The rich colors of the green valleys, illuminated by the slanting rays of the sun, looked especially solemn against the backdrop of approaching lead clouds. We were on our way to visit one of the many houses where carpets are made, and this one was just finishing work that had begun six months ago. The owners agreed to wait for us so that we could see with our own eyes the completion of many months of work by several craftswomen. Of course we were in a hurry. On the way, Mohammed, our Derbent friend who organized this trip, told the story of Tabasaran and, in particular, the history of carpet weaving.
Once upon a time, carpets were not as elegant as they are now, and did not serve to decorate the room at all. The nomadic peoples who inhabited the countries of the East began to make them for their homes, primarily as a functional thing that would help keep the house warm, could be easily transported from one campsite to another, and would serve for many years. Over time, carpets began to be covered with patterns that became more and more complex and elegant, and by their decoration one could judge the well-being of the owner. Carpets became a luxury item, without losing their original qualities, and migrated from poor huts to the palaces of eastern rulers and influential rich people.
Today, every Dagestan home must have carpets: poorer families have sumac - lint-free rugs, and in wealthy houses the floors are covered with simply magnificent specimens - thick, with high pile and very pleasant to the touch. When we visited someone, we usually didn’t pay much attention to them until we arrived in Tabasaran and learned about how much time and labor one such masterpiece costs.

We were met by Umganat Suleymanova, a local resident, poetess and just a good person. Carpets are made here in almost every home - if not for sale, then just for yourself. Umganat is no exception: he says that when he weaves a carpet, he rests his soul.

We went to the next house, where five craftswomen were finishing weaving a large carpet. Work on it took more than six months!

Having taken off our shoes in front of the porch, as usual, we squeezed into a small room, half of which was occupied by a machine. A very beautiful, almost finished carpet was stretched over it, and women were sitting on a low bench in front of it. It is simply impossible to understand anything in the complex interweaving of various threads and auxiliary sticks. The purpose of some tools is not at all clear. The women smile, seeing our confusion - they can knit their complex knots without looking, simultaneously telling us about their work and showing us by example the intricacies of the craft.

To make a carpet, first prepare the base: dense cotton threads are pulled tightly and tightly onto the frame parallel to each other. Then several women sit down at the machine - and the main work begins. Using a special hook, they tie a special knot of colored yarn around each thread. The speed with which the hands of the craftswomen move is fantastic - so it is impossible to catch exactly how they tie the knot. When the row is completed, it is pressed with a special heavy comb, and the uneven ends are cut off with large scissors. In this way, a pile of a certain depth is formed. In order not to make a mistake with the pattern, women check the diagram using a cheat sheet, and the most experienced carpet weavers know the pattern from memory.

In carpet making, special attention is paid to yarn. The most valuable is considered to be a carpet made from wool dyed with natural dyes. How to get this or that color has been known since ancient times - after all, there were no artificial colors before. A wide variety of colors can be obtained from plants and minerals, as well as from some insects. For example, the red color traditional for Dagestan carpets is extracted from the root of the madder plant. Many people are also familiar with the natural dye henna, which produces a beautiful orange color. These days, synthetic dyes are more commonly used. This makes the carpet a little cheaper, since a lot of labor is not spent on collecting and processing the components of natural dyes, but this does not reduce the quality of the carpet.

After the story, the women finished their work. One of them cut the warp threads - and the beautiful carpet was solemnly transferred to the yard for its first photograph. Now it must go to its owner, who will serve for at least 300 years - it is not difficult to imagine how many future generations will see this carpet.

When we came to visit Migdet Gadzhievich, we already realized that we would not be able to leave Tabasaran without a carpet - this was exactly the only place where we needed to make such purchases. Migde, a former director of a local school, and today a man who, together with his family, is trying to preserve carpet production in the area, also told us a lot of interesting things.
Since ancient times, Tabasarans have been engaged in carpet weaving, and carpets were woven here in every home - both for themselves and for sale. Skill was passed on from the elders to the younger: girls from early childhood watched their mothers work, and as young women they already became experienced craftswomen. In Tabasaran families, women were the main breadwinners of the family, as they earned much more than men. During the Soviet years, organized carpet production was established in Tabasaran. They began to weave not at home, but in one large carpet workshop, where almost all the women of the villages came to work. These days, this workshop is still operating, but is far from being at full capacity, and most of the carpet weavers have returned to working at home.

Carpet workshop

While we were listening to Migdet Gadzhievich, his mother Aminat, a ninety-year-old woman who was considered the best carpet maker in the village, came out to us.
“The children still force me to work,” Aminat complains playfully, pointing to his knitting. The children laugh as they translate their mother’s words to us from the complex Tabasaran language.
Finally, the carpets that were made by the women of this family were brought out into the yard. We squint at the bright colors, enhanced by the sun, and, exchanging glances with Yanka, we understand that our carpet has finally found us and is now lying in front of us. A few minutes later, in the trunk of our car there was already a neat package that we were going to unwrap in Moscow, in our apartment.
We spent the rest of the evening visiting Gadzhimurat, the head of the Tabasaran district, where we raised more than one toast to the guests and hosts, to the children and parents, to Dagestan and Russia as a whole, and many, many other things that are now difficult to remember. Now, when I am writing this post at home, I am pleased to once again say thank you to all the Tabasarans who showed us so much sincere hospitality, as well as to those who helped us come to Tabasaran.

High mountain villages of Dagestan

Where is Antokha? - I switched the alarm clock for another fifteen minutes, I really wanted to sleep.
“He’s fixing the Niva,” Sasha answered in a sleepy voice and turned over to the other side. It’s funny, but this simple dialogue began almost every morning of our trip)

The light sound of the surf could be heard from the street. I instantly fell asleep, but the alarm clock, the infection, came to life again. Anton came in and said that Niva was ready and that he had found out everything and agreed on everything. On this day we had a long journey ahead to the high mountain villages of the Samur Valley.

1. I took the camera and went to find out what Anton agreed on and what happened to Niva.

While we were sleeping, Anton managed to go to auto parts and buy oil and some things. Then he made friends with the men in the garages and drove the car into a ditch. His eyes sparkled - tinkering with a car for Anton is the same thrill as for me, at four in the morning, watching the sunrise on the spire of a skyscraper.

In the steppes of Kalmykia, the Niva “flowed.” The transfer case was covered in oil. Anton checked the level and said that it was too early to add more. If anything, he bought some kind of syringe, and he already tightened the weakened handbrake.

2. While Anton was repairing the Niva, he managed to make friends with the men and discuss our travel plans. It turned out that one of them has a friend of an acquaintance, who is the head of the village of Tsakhur, where we actually gathered.
“Everything will be fine now,” said our new friend, called somewhere, and now they were waiting for us for dinner somewhere far away in the mountains on the border with Azerbaijan at an altitude of almost 2000 meters. It remained to understand whether we could get there... We had to check.

3. Meet Zeinudin, an honored taxi driver of Dagestan. 18 years of experience!

A small digression. Many people believe that in Dagestan it is good to be someone’s guest accompanied and dangerous to be on your own. What happened in our case:
- Nobody accompanied us, the riot police did not follow us. There was no air support either.
- Friends from the Ministry of Tourism of Dagestan helped with choosing interesting places and planning the route. They provided contacts of local residents who are well versed in the history of their area and know what to show.
- We went wherever we wanted, when we wanted and changed plans on the go.

In the case of the trip described in this report, the story was special. Initially, I didn’t know anything at all about the village of Tsakhur and the gorges of the Samur River. On the recommendation of Magomed Khan-Magomedov from Derbent, we decided to try to “break through” to the high-mountain village, but no one could say for sure whether they would let us into the border zone, and if so, where. One thing was known - the area around the village of Tsakhur is very beautiful, and you should definitely go there.

Where is the best place for us to spend the night? We don’t know which village we can climb to...
- Yes, in any village, go to the first house you come across and spend the night there. Everywhere you will be greeted with joy, fed, and even the neighbors will fight for the right to receive a guest, you will see, Magomed said with a smile.
- It’s not convenient to collapse without warning. There are so many of us.
- There are never many guests. The guest is a holiday!

4. Anton kicked Niva out and thanked the men with a bottle of Stolichnaya, a box of which we grabbed from Moscow just in case. We hit the road - towards the border.

The photo shows the valley of the Samur River in the Magaramkent region. On one bank is Russia, on the other is Azerbaijan.

6. The higher the mountains, the lower the Priora octane number of gasoline. Surprisingly, gas station operators are honest people:
“There is no risk of refueling such cars here,” said the operator, pointing in the direction of the Chevrolet Trailblazer, “and the Niva is no problem.”

7. Walking a herd of sheep against a beautiful backdrop.

10. Gradually, the Samur riverbed narrowed, and the valley turned into a gorge.

Driving through the last large settlement - the administrative center of the Rutulsky district, Sasha Popov suggested trying to look at the head of the district - to get acquainted, find out about the border guards and ask about the village of Tsakhur. What if he accepts? To do this, we talked to the language:
- Hello! Where can we find the head of the district?
- He should be in the administration, that’s where it is, the white building.
- What is his name?
- His name is Amayevich.
- Is this a first or last name?
- I don’t know, everyone calls him Amayevich.

In fact, it turned out that it was already four days since Amaevich was replaced by Dzhabrailovich. We were told about this by a corpulent security guard in the administration building, who escorted us to the second floor to the chief’s office.

11. On the way out of Rutul, we treated the local boys to Alenka chocolates.

12. Closer to Tsakhur they began to climb up. The village itself is located at an altitude of 1800 meters directly under the passing clouds.

13. Samur River and village.

15. The village turned out to be surprisingly small and compact, huddled on the steep northern slope of the Main Caucasus Range. There are no street names in it, but the postman remembers all the residents by name.

17. Not a single city, not a single settlement in Dagestan in ancient times had such an arrangement of outbuildings as in Tsakhur; they were located separately from residential areas.

19. Tsakhur cat or whoever he is.

20. While I was walking, Kolya told me on the radio that they had met the head of the village and were waiting for us for tea)

21. Tsakhur, translated from Tsakhur - fire. This village is located in a tricky location on a hill. And at dawn, the sun, rising above the gorge, illuminates it with its first rays. And at sunset the village is illuminated longer than all its neighbors.

22. There are no dogs in Tsakhur, so it is especially quiet here.

23. According to our plans, which later changed several times, we thought of staying in Tsakhur only for one night. But it turned out to be so nice and friendly here that we decided to stay longer. We were received by the head of the village, Vagif Aliyev, a most interesting person. We talked with him and his family for a long time on completely different topics, not noticing the time and the amount of tea, delicious cheese and khinkal we drank.

25. In the morning the weather was not pleasant. Clouds arrived from the direction of Azerbaijan. We went for a walk and first of all we went to the ancient madrasah to see Imam Jalalutdin Haji. He showed us ancient books that were over 400 years old.

27. Kolya takes a portrait of the imam.

29. Antokha picks up chicks.

35. Shepherd with an umbrella.

36. The weather was getting worse. It rained several times.

37. Anton in the clouds.

38. Around this point Kolya decided to drop his Canon 5D Mark III along with the 70-200 2.8 IS on the rocks. The camera fell with an unusual and sad crunch. As a result, everything was skewed, crumpled, and at the very beginning of a long journey, Kolya was left without a camera.

39. At this sad moment we decided that it was time to go down. Silently in mourning, we walked around the village on the right side, gradually descending downwards, only the occasional rain knocking on our raincoats.

43. Cellular station. Vagif told us that it was built by the entire village. Every week there were cleanup days and people came to help - not only to the construction site itself, but also to simply help drag the equipment up the 3,000-meter-high mountain. Today this is the highest Beeline cell tower in Russia.

44. Now the village has cellular communications and the Internet, but before that local residents stood in line at the only payphone in the entire village.

45. The morning in the Samur Valley is beautiful!

50. In Tsakhur, as probably throughout Dagestan, there are no fences. Fences are only needed for cattle enclosures and monuments.

51. And people, even the smallest ones who have just learned to walk, live carefree and without fences. Kids run along the roofs of buildings, along narrow streets with steep cliffs, along fortress walls - and nothing, no one falls.

53. Local residents. On the left is Vagif - the head of Tsakhur, who sheltered us for a couple of days, fed and watered us, and held conversations. For which many thanks to him and his family!

56. Pampered by the Moscow asphalt, like a city dog ​​that was taken to the dacha, our Niva in the mountains of Dagestan burst into its native element! Niva is a pearl, if I may say so. She quickly rolled around in the mud and looked happy. If Niva had a tail, she would constantly wag it)

57. The weak engine, which had a hard time on the track during long climbs, seemed to come to life. It spun and buzzed, not paying attention to the thin air. The Niva rumbled along the rocky serpentine road and asked - come on, come on higher, let's go into the snow!

58. Traiblazer drove silently, swallowed bumps and tossed rear passengers over large potholes.

60. On a high slope at the very source of Samur, the walls of an abandoned village have been preserved. Once upon a time life was in full swing here. People walked to Azerbaijan and traded livestock. But then the border was closed.

61. Great places!

Guide to Dagestan gas stations

This is the peculiarity of the Dagestanis, Magomed explained to me. - Let’s imagine, Dima, that you took some land and built a gas station on it. You somehow take oil from the Novorossiysk-Baku pipeline and cook your gasoline somewhere in the basement on a samovar. In short, I established the process, got the hang of serving clients, and within two weeks I bought myself a Mercedes. Then his wife will come up to Magomed and say - Dima has a Mercedes over there, and you are lying on the sofa. Go and build a gas station too. This is why gas stations appear like mushrooms. The quality of fuel is approximately the same everywhere, that is, poor.

During my trip to the Republic of Dagestan, I was on alert all the time. I kept a camera with a 70-200 on my lap and was constantly “shooting” the next masterpieces of creativity and plagiarism. Currently, there are more than 200 different names of gas stations in Dagesten. Here you will find LuxOil, RusNeft, gas stations Kuwait, Yukos, Iskra, Bens, DagPetrol, 777, 888, 999 and many others...

I present to your attention my modest collection of gas brands from Dagestan:

1. Many wealthy officials have entire networks of their own gas stations - Magomed continued his story. - Huge amounts of money are coming from Russia, but officials are in no hurry to invest the stolen money in serious enterprises. More likely, another wedding salon, banquet hall, store or gas station will appear. Investments also go into the sphere of prestigious consumption: the production of giant gates, paving slabs, stairs, and so on. This is the peculiarity of the Dagestanis.

2. Local residents only refuel at trusted places. If you see that they fill up a Bentley somewhere, you can safely use this gas station)

3. We must pay tribute to the honesty of gas station operators. Instead of fighting for every client, they honestly admitted to us that their gasoline was not very dangerous for our cars.
- Now you’ll go up the mountain and won’t get there. You will come back to me and say that I recommended gasoline to you. So it's better not to refuel here.

4. It’s not necessary once in a while. This is a kind of lottery. For example, in Akhty we filled the Niva with who knows what. At some point, Anton even said: “It looks like that’s it, Khan Niva.” But nothing, Niva hesitated and drove on. On the contrary, we found an excellent gas station near the border with Azerbaijan - after which the Niva fluttered like a Swallow for a couple of days.

And one more moment. In Dagestan, everything is built on trust. That is, at all gas stations they take money only after filling the fuel. They can even fill up to a full tank and all without prepayment. We only have this at BP!

The highest quality and cleanest gasoline for refueling cars of any model, both domestic and imported, can be purchased at the Rosbenzin gas station, located in the city of Makhachkala, Republic of Dagestan. Those who know a lot about gasoline fill up at Rosbenzin!

Life high in the mountains

The road to the high mountain village was rocky and unimportant; we had to crawl at a snail's pace. I wanted to sleep, but only a professional could fall asleep on such potholes. The Niva roared and moved strainedly, mostly in first gear; second gear was no longer enough. Apparently the leftover 92nd gasoline, which we filled up in Akhty, was having an effect. Anton turned it down. He gazed ahead intently and maneuvered between scattered rocks and hummocks, continually shifting gears up and down, as if churning butter in a churn. It was drizzling. Sasha reported that the oil temperature in the box had increased in the Trailblazer. Now both cars switched to lower gears and crawled further along the winding Caucasian serpentine road.

We drove into the clouds and it quickly became dark. Visibility dropped to 10 meters, it became noticeably cooler, and the Trailblazer began to cool down. The only navigator who still understood where we were reported that there were only 20 kilometers left to the village. It's about an hour and a half walk. We didn’t meet a single oncoming car during the entire climb.

The village was already asleep when two dirty cars, making a loud noise with their engine cooling fans, like out of breath travelers, climbed up to the first houses of Kurush - at the same time the highest mountainous settlement in the Caucasus and all of Europe, as well as the southernmost settlement in the Russian Federation. The village is located on the border with Azerbaijan on the southeastern slope of Mount Shalbuzdag, in the valley of the Usukhchaina River at an altitude of about 2600 meters.

1. The village is more than 2000 years old, although no one knows exactly when exactly the first inhabitants appeared here. But it is known that the first road to the village appeared in the 60s. Until this time, the main means of transport were only one's own legs and horses. Today you can get “down” by minibus, which runs every two days in winter and every day in summer. A ticket to Derbent costs 300 rubles. Travel time is three hours.

2. The harsh climate does not allow farming, despite the fact that the land in these parts is fertile. The maximum that can be achieved is to collect a small harvest of potatoes during the warm summer, and then only for oneself, not for sale. Therefore, everyone lives only by livestock farming and completely provides for themselves. Everything goes into use: milk, meat, wool, even dung.

3. On almost every site, huge haystacks stand like frozen mammoths. Winters are long here...
Sometimes, in the cold winter, the water coming through pipes from Mount Shalbuzdag freezes and then you have to wait until spring. Run all winter with buckets to the spring.

4. Life in mountain villages is a paradise for asthmatics. The purest rarefied mountain air with light notes of burnt dung. What could be better?

5. You can wake up in the morning in the fog and see nothing, or vice versa, in sunny weather you can admire the kilometer-long wall of Mount Erydag. During the Soviet Union, Kurush was very popular among tourists and climbers. Now there are much fewer visitors.

6. Due to the fact that livestock are kept in the village, the streets are a bit dirty. It’s better not to go out without boots after the rain. In general, everything is like in an ordinary Ryazan village, only with four-thousanders in the background.

7. In the center of the frame is Mount Bazardyuzyu - the highest mountain in Dagestan and Azerbaijan (4466 meters). The state border runs along its ridge.

Translated from Turkic, Bazarduzu means “market square”, more precisely as a specific landmark - “turn to the market, bazaar”. The fact is that in ancient times and the Middle Ages, in the Shahnabad valley, located east of this peak, annual large fairs were held, where traders and buyers from many countries came. From a distance, on the way to the fairs, the main landmark of the “market square”, the “turn to the market” - Bazardyuzyu - was striking.

A dialogue from the Middle Ages was presented.
- Excuse me, but how to get to the market?
- Up to the mountain, and to the left.

There are a lot of relatives left on the other side of the pass. They are also Lezgins, but they live in Azerbaijan. To go visit - the journey takes the whole day. Nowadays it’s just that few people go. Only for a big holiday, wedding or funeral. To cross the border you need a passport. And at the border itself you can spend up to 8 hours standing in queues.

8. When talking about life in the mountains, one cannot help but talk about food. It’s not for nothing that they say that the most dangerous thing that can happen in Dagestan is being fed to death. Oh, this trip was pure food terrorism! We've never eaten so much. Look at the delicious and always different (depending on the area) Khinkal!

Khinkal should not be confused with Georgian khinkali, which is a significantly different type of dish. Digastan khinkal is pieces of dough boiled in meat broth (actually “khinkalina”), served with broth, boiled meat and sauce.

9. And this is Chudu, a dish for a large ceremonial feast, also the national dish of the peoples of Dagestan. This is a kind of thin pie, which is made from unleavened dough with a variety of fillings. The dough is rolled out as thin as possible. The main taste is created by the filling; it can be meat, potato, cheese and herbs, or just vegetable. After baking, the miracles must be greased with oil, so they become more aromatic and tender.

10. And this is the school “flatbread”. In one of the mountain villages we went to a local school, where children in the dining room prepare their own bread. You can't take him out of town every day.

13. In many mountain villages there is no concept of streets, lanes or driveways. Moreover, there are no avenues or highways there. Sometimes even houses do not have their own numbers. The postman and the local police officer know all the residents by first and last name.

14. “Our ancestors rose so high that no one would touch them. The Dagestan mountains are harsh. Not everyone will wear them. So they moved away from endless wars and devastation.” - says Bashirov Tagi Aslanovich, head of the village of Kurush.

18. Sometimes the neighboring village speaks its own language and communication with neighbors occurs only in Russian. Just as the universal English language is in Europe, so is the Russian language in Dagestan.

21. Dung cakes on the wall of the house. This is both fuel and insulation at the same time.

27. Young girls are afraid of photographers like hell.

28. Guys, on the contrary, pose with pleasure.

29. Math class.

31. School director.
“Almost all the young people are leaving. Many go to Derbent and Makhachkala, some go to Russia. Many are sent to serve under a contract, it is profitable. Young people are just bored here.”

33. Series of photographs “Sasha is coming.”

36. It's almost like Tibet, but only Russia. And they speak Russian here.

40. Once again I would like to say a big thank you to everyone who received us in distant villages, fed and watered us, took us to interesting places and told us about the difficult life of the mountaineers!

The Last of the Mohicans

“I am the last of the Mohicans,” the only resident of the village said, smiling, and quickly put the kettle on the gas burner to boil.
His name was Abduljalil. For more than nine years now, he has been living alone in an abandoned village high in the mountains of Dagestan. Abduljalil was in a hurry to tell us his stories and thoughts that had accumulated in his head during the time spent alone. Therefore, stories poured out from the old man with incredible speed, mixing and jumping from topic to topic. There was little that could be understood, but this was not so important, the main thing was that Abduljalil was glowing with joy, receiving rare guests in his home. He fussed and kept looking at each of us, as if he was afraid that we might suddenly disappear...

All doors in the village of Gamsutl, as many years ago, according to the law of the mountains, are open to every traveler. Having climbed almost half a kilometer up a narrow walking path to the ledge of Mount Gamsutlmeer, bounded on three sides by inaccessible cliffs, it is unlikely that anyone will meet the out of breath traveler and invite him to tea. Many years ago there was a large Avar settlement here, carved out of the rocks, self-sufficient and invulnerable to conquerors. In the village there was a kindergarten, a school, a clinic and even a maternity hospital. Today, finding the house of the only resident of this village is not so easy. In the remaining buildings of Gamsutl, time has long stopped, and instead of a roof overhead there is only blue sky.

1. The ghost village of Gamsutl, like an ancient fairy tale, living somewhere high in the mountains of Dagestan. Without a hint, a traveler will never notice a small abandoned village on the slope of the Caucasus Mountains.

2. Even with the help of Murtuzali, our guide in the Gunib region, seeing the crumbling walls of Gamsutl’s houses turned out to be not an easy task.

4. We descended from the pass and left the cars below by the river. The village could only be reached on foot.

5. The evening sun promised to disappear behind the neighboring hill. I drove as hard as I could. Wet and out of breath, I lost the path and climbed straight up the mountain. Tired, but managed)

7. On one of the houses it is written in large letters: “Lead your herds higher along the paths, do not enter the village, it is dangerous.”

8. Incredibly beautiful place.

10. Our whole team is assembled. Except for Anton, who stayed downstairs to repair the Niva. On the right side of the frame, the village of Chokh, closest to the village, is noticeable.

11. The sun disappeared, and we descended into an abandoned village - an open-air museum.

16. And here is Abduljalil, the hero of our report. Nine years have passed since the last inhabitants of the village left, and Abduljalil was left completely alone.

17. Abduljalil only has to talk to bees and an old radio. There are eight bee families on his farm. In addition to beekeeping, Abduljalil works in his own garden, where he grows vegetables. They last him for a whole year. Once a month he goes to the neighboring village of Chokh to replenish provisions, borrow new books from the library and receive a pension.

18. The house, built at the end of the 18th century, can rightfully be called a family nest. Abduljalil's ancestors lived here. He himself was born in this house.

20. On rare days when travelers go up to an abandoned village and meet Abduljalil, he gladly receives them in his house, gives them tea with honey and gives them a tour of the village. He is like a guide here - he can tell the story of each house and its inhabitants.

21. Abduljalil spends his free time reading books, and in the corner of his living room there is an old radio on which Abduljalil listens to concerts upon request and even sometimes calls and orders music himself.

22. - Do tourists often come to you?
- Yes, all the time! Every year, two or three times, someone comes.

23. The darkest room is the bedroom. You can hear the rustling of a potbelly stove in the corner. There is no hood, or the pipe is clogged. In the smoke from the burning dung you can see two beds, a table with newspapers, and some utensils. There is a bottle of water on a stool, with which Abduljalil goes to the mountain stream every three days. I stepped on something - something rattled and rolled under the bed. My eyes watered from the smoke and I, coughing, hurried out into the street.

24. Being far from people and civilization, Abduljalil considers himself a happy person. There is no Internet or television in the village. Cell phone reception only on the windowsill.

25. We drank tea and talked. More precisely, mostly only Abduljalil spoke, and we listened to him eagerly and laughed at his jokes and anecdotes. The evening flew by unnoticed. It was time to go back so as not to go down the mountain path in the dark. Abduljalil went to accompany us through the village, continuing to tell us something all the time. So he went down with us to the river.

27. The lights turned on in Gunib. A hotel, bathhouse and dinner were waiting for us there. We said goodbye to Abduljalil, thanked him for his hospitality, and he silently walked back up the mountain. In the darkness, his short silhouette floated like a ghost. Only the bottle of beer in his hand gave him away)

Many thanks to Abduljalil, Murtuzali and everyone who took part in organizing our trip. Special thanks to the Ministry of Press and Information of the Republic of Dagestan, as well as the City Tourism Center!

Dagstyle

On the roads of our vast homeland, more and more often you can see parked cars with minimal ground clearance. “The higher the mountains, the lower the Priors,” eyewitnesses who are not immersed in the topic of lowering tuning like to repeat. Initially, this fashion came from Mexico and gradually spread to the USA. Today, lowriders can be found all over the world, but the maximum concentration of grace and splendor is certainly found on the roads of the Caucasian republics.

And you shouldn’t immediately attack with angry comments when you see such beauty. Try, first, to feel and understand this style, this status! Go?

1. There are several options for underestimation. A budget option is when you don’t mind the car. In this case, several coils of springs are cut off and shortened suspension struts are installed. It turns out cheap and cheerful - all the bumps are yours. In addition to the low cost of this tuning option, there is another significant advantage - before the winter season, you can put back the standard springs and return the suspension to its original state. This operation is also useful in pre-sale preparation, since a lowered car is more difficult to sell. Especially if it concerns a foreign car. With VAZs, things are simpler - almost all the youth of the mountainous republics begin their acquaintance with the automotive world through the domestic auto industry. And not only the mountain republics. Me and many of my friends started driving eights and nines.

2. The second option, expensive and at the same time universal, is to install an air suspension. In this case, the cost of tuning may approach the original cost of the car. Especially when it comes to Kalinas and Prioras - these are the models that have gained popularity among Caucasian drivers. Instead of the usual springs and shock absorbers, pneumatic cushions come into play, the pressure in which is controlled by a separate compressor. In Europe, buses are common that at stops “sit down” on the right side a couple of decimeters to make it more convenient for passengers to get off. When the doors close, the bus returns to its reverse position. The same system is used in lowriders - the car's ground clearance changes in a couple of seconds and is adjusted by pressing one button.

3. Pravda Street in Moscow. Unfortunately, the car was parked without a driver, and I only took an Instagram photo.

4. Polarnikov Street in Grozny. Kind and open guys drove up to our hotel with a deafening tut-tut. They stopped and their raven-black Priora sat on her belly with a puffy sound. I took my camera and went to get acquainted.

5. Zhenya, the loving owner of his Priora, began the tour from the showroom. It was very unusual to get into a car that was lying on the ground. All you had to do was step over the turf opening and literally sit down on the asphalt. The seat height can be estimated from the Toyota standing next to it.

6. There is no such thing as too much music.

8. There is no free space in the trunk, everything is occupied by the amplifier. A sack of potatoes can be placed at the feet of the rear passengers, but it is better to leave the baby stroller at home.

9. After a major change in the car’s suspension, fans of such tuning have to use optimal routes for moving around the city. And the main criteria are not distances and traffic jams, but bad roads and speed bumps. In the case of air suspension, the ground clearance can be increased in front of an obstacle. But if we are talking about cut springs, then boards are used - an integral attribute of a lowrider.

10. The suspension control unit is hidden under the radio. The car rises and falls in a couple of seconds. The cost of this tuning amounted to 250,000 rubles for the owner.

11. Previously, I was skeptical about lowered cars and did not understand this direction. But after repeated trips to the Caucasus, I changed my mind. This is a certain style, a whole era. We enjoy looking at photographs of Pakistani trucks that look like Christmas trees. The same applies to lowriders. Another question, you say, is that Pakistani trucks do not drive along the Moscow Ring Road at breakneck speeds. Yes it is. But that's a completely different conversation.

Thanks to Zhenya and his friends for a nice conversation and a short excursion into the world of lowride. Peace to everyone on the roads!