The author: Vladimir Kopylov, Moscow

Ski and snowboard descent via a well-known ice falls "7",
Mt. Donguzorun (4468m) Caucasus, Russia

Part 2 ( Part 1)

From the contents of the Multimedia disk " Find your own Top "

...And we began our movement. My brother was the first on skis, Vitalik - behind him - on a snowboard. Having ascended on front points for five hours (It is like a ballerina has scrolled a pair of hours without interruption a pas de deux) we felt that our legs became little bit wadded and obeyed only if "handle with care" and special predilection with them.

After several first falls, sobering the consciousness and adjusting it on prompt descent instead of long ascent, Alexander was skiing a little and beautifully scudding by me, on a background of Elbrus, then on a background of the Wall, being carried away over a bend of the slope.

There is an absolutely expanse to snowboard here.

Smooth movements on a snowboard in the ice chaos are looked somehow in a special way beautifully and unusually.

The slope needed some hours to ascend it upward but you need only some minutes to ski flying downwards it.

I was not in a mood for repeating video-doubles here.

Gena made videorecording, I took photographs quickly changing lens - I would like to grasp immense.

During short stops when the operators were rappeling by "actors" up to the following point of shooting there was an opportunity to have a rest and take breath.

The chute of "7", to put it using the language of a snowboarders is a huge "half- pipe", a half-kilometer in length, where everything flies that falls from the Wall, torn by crevasses each of which will appear simply a precipice if it is possible to glance in it. We alternately were rappeling through especially big crevasses (we are not suicides), or slipping on them, sometimes not unroping (" What does it matter!").

We passed the chute at the end of which Alexander seemed likely tired of rappeling, having absolutely unroped, impetuously directed downwards, on a course having brought down a small cornice flew a pair of meters together with it, but managed to remain standing and to continue his movement through a labyrinth of crevasses.

He told me after that: "I clearly heard my skis scraping against the ice and burring into limp deep snow accumulated on flatterings. The ice crumb beats hurting the face, it burns on the sun.

Entering into the next turning I "squeezed out" my legs with all forces not to take off on a crevasse and ice-falls. Periodically I could see someone's wide eyes there and then closed by the view-finder of a videocamera or the photo-camera. I had ho more forces to go round stones sticking out of ice. I felt as shavings cut off with a gnash from my not cheap skis. The phrase was suddenly recollected "I do not like, when it's with iron against the window... " (V. Vysotsky)

Here is my life. It is clearly visible. I have seized hold of it and I hold it with all my mind, promptly moving in this ice chaos, sticking a ski stick in ice and hearing in the answer only a dissatisfied gnash.

Everything is simple, as never before: to remain standing means to survive! All the rest are details.

Slightly not having not reached avalanche snout I took to the left and simple rappeled from there - there were not enough safe time to stay on the Wall remained at us."

A tiny bit - there will be a victory! We will carry off away our legs and skis from here. All this time the Wall was silent, likely having lost ability to speak from our impudence, or gaining the moment to cover us at one stroke.

Then the Wall simply was lost in contemplation of us and thought suddenly only during the latest moment, having understood that these impudent fellows were already leaving from it unpunishedly. The roar rang out unexpectedly and instantly filled with itself all around, transferring vibration of a collapse via a surface of ice on which we were standing. It was literally in a pitch (the distance is measured not by meters but in pitches and hours of climbing in mountaineering) before the ending of the Wall.

We heard its increasing rumble above, but we could not understand where it was and where we had to run. It was already near, by a sound, and at last hardly away from us all this stream was splashed out of the huge rantcluft going vertically downwards along a triangular rocky site and departed, like a huge dragon from a children's fairy tale, throwing up from a mouth not fire but stones and ice.

One cubic metre of ice weighs about a ton. It is difficult to tell how many tens or hundreds tons flew near by us during this moment.

We had luck - we descended safe and sound. Having turned back, we silently looked at the tons of ice flying and sliding on our way. But it was no difference to us.

We were passed and we were in safety. The mountain allowed us to leave and to live.

Alexander Kopylov played a party on skis, Vitalik Mihaylov- on a snowboard, Gennady Melnikov provided a safety, Vladimir Kopylov -photo shooting . (remained out of the frame).

So, there is everything left already behind. Ritual "7", shaved on a short-haired back of my brother's head we used later as a map of all action to show: " Here we began the descent, here we reached " - already began to grow, erasing from our memory the details.But the main thing, that the legend about someone once here (and may be and not here) has descended on skis began to be reality.

Yes, there was too abruptly there- in all values of this word! But already today we are starting to discuss - what can we surprise the world the next year?

P.S. All this was in June, 1998. All of us were for five years younger and happier that time. Friends simply laughed - they were alive, after a while - some of them will be lost. And only a good dog Shato, sitting after that crazy adventure together with us on a huge stone at the foot of Donguzorun, sadly looked atop of our heads aside the Sky, Elbrus and our future.

All these years I have gone on top of Elbrus as for my work, and Shato already more than a year has looked at us, alive, from Heavens, repeating a question which that time five years ago remained at all of us without the answer - " Dreams ceased to be!!! How to live further? I do not know... "