What is a trip to Crimea?

Strong impressions from the May Day hike "Around Demerdzhi"
In the city you get caught in the rain, your left finger gets wet - damn, you're annoyed. But you can’t even imagine that a wet boot is such a trifle compared to what we experienced there, on the nameless slopes of Demerdzhi (nameless for me, they have names :)). There, in the mountains, you think in simple terms - when the rain will stop, how to put up a tent in the rain, how to keep warm, where to get dry things.

Day 1 - Hiking is getting to know each other.

We disembarked from the Yalta trolleybus at the Angarsk Pass. This was the beginning of our route, if we leave behind an important, but quite tedious for the reader, slightly different initial stage - preparation for the hike. But who is interested in hearing about extra pounds in a backpack and a list of companies that manufacture camping equipment?

The weather was pleasant - cloudy and no rain. Not hot and not stuffy. Even if, according to the forecasts, rain was waiting for us somewhere along the way, but could it have blown through? What about those forecasts, when here they are, the mountains, so close. Peaks shrouded in clouds, picturesque valleys, clearly visible. In the distance you can see the “mirror” of the lake.

A slight climb and we found ourselves at the monument, which serves more as a stopping place. Few people even noticed the sign about the exploits of Russian soldiers in the Crimean War. Suddenly, rally motorcycles appear with a roar. Oho, unexpected! We are loaded like donkeys with backpacks, and they staged a rally here. Everyone watches the racers with interest; few have seen anything like this in real life. I personally have never been to a motorcycle race. Semenych, our guide, assured us that we would get tired of these motorcycles in time. He turned out to be right. On the first day, we had to squeeze onto the side of the road several times, letting different types of Schumachers pass - from ATVs and UAZs to Cossacks without windows or license plates.

The impressions of the first day of the hike are a kind of familiarity. You are just getting used to the burden: you feel every kg of excess weight in the backpack, its imperfect shape. You evaluate the comfort of your shoes and your strength on steep climbs. Well, let's be patient. But the first time you try, you try to get rid of the backpack.

The attention from the unusual walking was taken over by the magnificent landscapes. Everything is so unusual and new: rocky mountains, valleys, narrow paths, moss on the trees, clean air. Arriving home, I kept complaining and being stuffy. The birdsong is so deafening that you can go deaf in the tent in the morning.

Fatigue sets in by the third hour of walking. You feel the night on the train, a liter of coffee, hunger. It’s already late afternoon, about four hours, no less. Semenych throws us into the last transition - an assault on a steep peak. We would set up camp there. But somewhere in the middle, on the slope, we are red from the blood rushing to our cheeks, sweating, we meet other tourists - on horses. Five or six people quickly pass us, and only the last, very pretty girl looks at us absentmindedly and smiles. Her smile is memorable. It’s difficult to describe her in words: she likes that we are tired, and she is riding a horse. There is no boasting or any kind of hypocrisy in her eyes. Unusual smile.

Here's the stop. We set up camp, cook dinner, collect firewood, and bring water. Then we walk, take pictures, and have fun. I take out my liter of beer, which I dragged to this peak. With every step, the price of this beer increased to incredible levels! Haha, but how delicious it is in the mountains :)

Lights out.

Day 2 - Hiking is hard work.

The rain hurries us to pack up camp on the second day. My friend and I are in such a hurry that we go to get water before the group leaves the camp, and then try to catch up. But we just can’t catch them. Maybe they are waiting for us or are they left somewhere behind, have we moved away? We decide to stop and go back. While I am guarding the backpacks, Sasha goes down to the camp. Half an hour later he returns. One. We're lost. There is no connection and only an hour later, when we go out to the pass on our own, we see our group. There was only one road, it was impossible to turn off it. Therefore, Semenych decides to go to the first fork and wait for us there. That's how we met.

The impressions of the second will best be conveyed by the words below, although they may seem somewhat off topic. One day at work, we dug up the “Employee Manifesto” on the Internet (that’s what the author called his message, where he harshly addressed wages below $500, and the employer’s delay of his subordinates after working hours). There was this phrase:

"...I dare to say: every employee must have a vacation. And during this entire three-week vacation, the employee does not exist. He is on the other side of the Earth, Mars, or on the Other World! Despite the fact that you know for sure that he sits at home and watches TV - it’s none of your damn business, he died for you for exactly three weeks. And even if you go broke without him and are forced to shoot yourself in the temple - this is none of his business, you have no right to bother him about such things nothing"

Then, at work, we started arguing: “what about conscience, humanity?”

- I have a toothache and am going to the doctor. The pain is driving me crazy. But the doctor suddenly turns around and refuses to see me - he can see that his working day is over! The programmer, the project leader, is relaxing at sea, but everything is falling apart in the office. They call him: Seryoga, help. He refuses.

Does a programmer have the right to refuse help to his colleagues, or a doctor to refuse help to a patient?

Conscience will tell you the answer: no, he cannot refuse.

I would say it differently – “maybe”. Believe me, if someone called me from work and asked for help (- Lech, the texture fell out, what should I do?...), I would say directly and in text:

- Fuck your texture.

We're in the mountains, who knows where. There is snow here, the rain gives way only to hail. The wind tears off the raincoat. Everything below the waist was soaked through. Hands are wet. Everything is wet. All damn wet. And behind his back is a huge backpack. And all the time you are not walking straight, but up and down. Run up the steps from the 1st to the 16th floor and back, see how long you can last.

When you lift your foot, you feel the water flowing in your sneaker - even if it’s like boats. It’s so cold that if you stop, the cold just freezes your body. The fog is incredible - six steps to the side and only a gray silhouette is visible. Six more steps and you're lost.

And take my word for it. Problems of the outside world, problems of work cease to exist for you. In the city you get caught in the rain, your left finger gets wet - damn, you're annoyed. But you can’t even imagine that a wet boot is such a trifle compared to what we experienced there, on the nameless slopes of Demerdzhi (nameless for me, they have names :)). There, in the mountains, you think in simple terms - when the rain will stop, how to put up a tent in the rain, how to keep warm, where to get dry things. But the backpack was soaked through and through - and the sleeping bag, and the spare pants and sweater.

And when, after a six-hour trek, you sit by the fire, you have eaten and dried your things - you become the Happiest Person. You don't need more. To be happy you need so little - a little food, a little warmth. And it seems to me that this is a key link in life. What we often miss in the outside world. In pursuit of exorbitant salaries, in pursuit of apartments, cars, gossip and intrigue - these are our false values. It was only possible to understand them during a hike.

And I would like to say a few kind words about Semenych. At times, under the weight of what had fallen, I wanted to stop. It was clear in every glance. But no, our guide simply moved forward. He goes and goes, without further ado. And we followed him and followed him. This is probably why we were able not to panic and were able to walk for six hours straight in the incessant rain.

If the sun had been shining on this day, it had been dry and warm, we would hardly have been able to understand the simple truth: after all, so little is needed for happiness. This, perhaps, is the answer to the question “what is a hike?”: a test of strength; ).

Day 3 - The hike is a holiday.

We met the third day with the thoughts: oh, just one more day, and then - home. Alas. We left the parking lot and began to descend to Generalskoe. To the finishing point of the route. And guess what? I no longer wanted to throw the backpack off my shoulders as soon as possible - it had become so familiar. I wanted to go, go, go. Let it snow, rain, wind, nothing is scary anymore.

We descended from the mountains as expected - in the back of a truck. The wind whistles, and fellow travelers from Lviv sing songs about pirates: “Fifteen people, on a dead man’s chest... y-o-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!” When the driver made a turn, it seemed that you would fly overboard. Schumacher, damn it. But it was fun.

We swam at the sea. You can’t imagine how clean and fresh the sea is in the month of May. Beautiful, albeit cold. We drank Crimean wine for the “celebration of life”. And in the evening we already loaded onto the train.

Thanks to everyone who walked alongside: the instructor, the guys, the girls. Well done. You can go on reconnaissance missions. We said goodbye very quickly. Will we see each other again, who knows?

Alexey Dobrunov

Kharkov, May 8, 2009.