This report is about the tour: Winter Grofa
Report on the winter hike along the route "Winter Gorgans" January 3-8, 2012.
Warm snowless winter, New Year's rains, you'll see flowers appear... But we really wanted winter and snow-covered trees. In order to fully satisfy our whim, we didn’t just come to the Carpathians, we deliberately went to the very @#$% because it was there that there was a chance to meet a real winter fairy tale (for adults). The idea was a success, everything was found - hurricane winds, waist-deep snowdrifts and action-packed overnight stays. Perhaps the panoramic views were not enough...
Repeat, or what?
A necessary note.
Of the nine participants in this hike, eight had already been on winter hikes more than once and had a good idea of where they were going. The ninth is also far from a beginner, but it was his first time traveling to the winter Carpathians. After the Lopushny-Syvuli traverse in a snowstorm, he issued two significant phrases. At first - “If I knew WHAT was going to happen here, I would have stayed home,” and after just a couple of hours - “Only good things remain. In a week I’ll tell my friends - Dudes, it’s so BEAUTIFUL there!” What I mean is that extreme sports is a contagious thing, once you get hooked, then you’ll have to wander around the mountains for the rest of your life. Think before you start :)
There was no smell of snow in Ivano-Frankivsk. But while we were waiting for the ordered minibus, we came to the conclusion that the temperature outside was sub-zero and that was good. As expected, we arrived in Osmoloda sleepy and slightly rumpled. To prepare for wearing a backpack, we decided to straighten our shoulders and tummies - go to a local cafe. There are very strict rules - you can’t place large orders, you can’t close the doors, you can’t help the staff peel potatoes, you can’t complain about your fate and the strictness of the rules. Well, at least you can eat :) At the beginning of the ascent to the Matagiv ridge, we met two descending groups. From them we learned that the top was full of snow, in some places even waist-deep (hurray, it’s not for nothing that we drag snowshoes!), that the wind on the ridge was truly hurricane-force, and that they were unable to pass Igrovets (they didn’t say this directly, but the sour faces and confusing explanations about the plans were interpreted by us unambiguously).
We arrived at our first overnight stop, Khatka-Bukhatka, when there were still 20 minutes left before darkness. This time was enough to find water and some firewood (double gas savings). While dinner was cooking, we settled into sleeping quarters. Eight people decided to sleep on the first floor on a wooden floor. It turned out a little cramped, but warm. I preferred space and coolness - I spread my sleeping bag in the attic. At night it was -7 outside.
Rise at 5, departure at 7. According to reconnaissance data, at night the ridge (and us along with it) was covered with clouds. There were no views or landscapes in sight. After leaving the forest area, we almost immediately put on our snowshoes. A couple of people still tried to walk without them, but soon gave up and also “put on their shoes.” The snow on the slopes seems to be shallow (20-30 cm), but without snowshoes your feet constantly slip, and you can easily run into a meter-long hole.
Having completed the climb to Mount Vysokaya, we finally lost our wind protection. The air currents were of medium strength (no one was shaken) and were warm and wet. After half an hour, the right, western, half of the body (as well as the backpack) was thoroughly wet. But while you’re walking, your backpack doesn’t let you freeze, and there was no reason to stand there - visibility was zero. We arrived for the night (pogar meadow) at about half past three. There is still a whole lot of “light” time ahead - just enough time to practice setting up a tent and drying clothes.
At about one o'clock in the morning the wind rose so strong that it was able to wake up even me, an experienced dad, hardened by children's screams :) After waiting for about 20 minutes (maybe it would calm down), I climbed outside to check the guy ropes. And just in time - over the next hour and a half, the wind tore 2 main guys out of the ground, knocked down half of the track poles that acted as additional supports, and in several places uncoupled the interior from the awning. Thank God, all these misfortunes did not happen at the same time and I had the opportunity to calmly fix the breakdowns without disturbing my comrades. I replaced the unreliable support points (pegs) with super-stable “snowshoes under a fur coat” (buried in a snowdrift), buried track poles if possible, and then considered my mission accomplished. The wind did not even think about subduing, the tent continued to shake with fever, but it was necessary to take a nap before the assault.
By morning nothing had changed. The wind clearly hinted to us that it would be a good idea to give up and go around the next ridge through the forest. But the enthusiasm of the townspeople who had been sitting too long knew no bounds - we decided to storm Syvulya. Half an hour's walk from the parking lot, we found the tents of our more cautious fellow tourists who had decided to wait out the storm. They didn't have snowshoes or GPS, so their decision was more than reasonable.
On the ridge, the wind hit us hard - as soon as we lifted any limb (trekking stick or snowshoe) from the ground, the walking system lost stability and predictability. It will pull here, it will push there - it’s unknown where you will fall, when - even more so. Therefore, we didn’t think for a long time, quickly moved our paws and crawled forward. Or up? We never had our visibility turned on; we crawled solely using instruments, constantly checking the GPS track.
And just imagine - your eyes are watering from the piercing wind, a 5-mm icy glaze has covered the entire right half of your body, the top of your head is freezing, and your feet are squelching in wet boots, your expensive camera is completely covered in ice. But all this happens somewhere far away, on the periphery of consciousness. In the center there are only two thoughts, two dreams - to take off the backpack and not to miss the earphone. I need to take off my backpack, because after 3 hours without stopping, my shoulders became numb and now they are just screaming in pain. And the earphone, in which Akunin’s endless audiobook is broadcast at full volume, is the very painkiller that helps you forget about the pain and crawl on.
We carried out the plan, completed the traverse, and descended from the ridge. But the adventures didn't end there. In the evening, wet snow began to fall, further dampening the already wet clothes. And the wind, the radish, died down and stopped blowing snow from the tent. Within half an hour, the interior and the awning stuck together - moisture began to flow down the walls. We somehow defeated this scourge, but at one in the morning (again!) we woke up from a strange sound. The central rod, the main support of the tent, was bent like a “Zu” and was clearly planning to break under the weight of the snow. Emergency repairs, shaking off snow, checking guy ropes. Everything is fine, even a little fun (we remembered the story about the Dyatlov group), but all the contents of the tent were completely wet.
Waking up in a wet sleeping bag, I put on wet clothes and started lacing up my wet boots. Damn thaw. It must be cold in winter! It's much more comfortable. To be honest, I seriously considered the option of retreating to some kind of kolyba (or even to a village) for mass drying of the junk. But friends reasonably explained that it was stupid to succumb to a moment of weakness when such a tempting prospect as spending the night on a ridge loomed ahead. It will certainly be cold there, the water in the rags will quickly freeze and stop being wet :)
The road to the Tavpishirka ridge is a continuous “roller coaster” - a high-speed descent followed by a steep and long climb, and so on many times. The heel pads on snowshoes came in very handy here. With them, crawling up is much more comfortable, since the leg becomes horizontal, like on a step, which reduces the load on the tendons. The snow that fell yesterday, under the influence of the wind, rose into the air again today. Apart from extremely limited visibility, this did not cause any particular problems (we probably got used to it). But in the video, these clouds of snow looked like a real doomsday, an arctic inferno, a deadly blizzard from stories about polar explorers.
On Tavpishirka the layer of snow was almost a meter thick. They had to dig a deep trench for the kitchen, the area under the tent took twice as long to compact as usual, and we only went to the toilet in snowshoes. But before sunset, the sky opened for a few minutes and we rushed to take pictures and be photographed.
The snow fell all night and by morning it hid under a 20-centimeter layer of powder all traces of our stay - numerous paths, scattered tea leaves, plates forgotten in the kitchen. It suddenly occurred to me that after such a snowfall, avalanches could occur not only on high, bare ridges. Even yesterday's roller coaster could be fraught with danger today. Now I can’t remember whether I saw horizontal cracks on the bend then, or whether this was a lost memory from other hikes. Thank God there was a calm, wooded area ahead.
Oddly enough, I “caught” the maximum amount of extreme sports on this hike in the village. The road on the outskirts of Bystritsa looked like a skating rink, which was not very useful, since I did not take skates, and falling with a loaded backpack is a dubious pleasure.
We spent Christmas night in that same Bystritsa, in a small hotel "Vodograi". Mummers ran through the streets, sang something festive, and showed off their costumes. We gradually joined “civilization” - we dried our shoes, took a steam bath, reported to the mainland about the successful completion of the campaign...
A little self-promotion
On this trip, I already traditionally conducted the online broadcast on the Google+ social network. So this article is just a free retelling of what has already been written there. Add yourself as a friend - next time you will be able to read the sweetest hiking news (ah-ah, we are being blown away by the wind, where is my trusty ice ax?) right from the heat :)
Kirill Yasko, Kyiv 2012.
P.S. Even more photos from this hike can be found in my Google album.