Seven Summits · 3rd Climbed
Seven days in the Caucasus, a 3 AM summit push, and the whole team standing at 5,642 meters above the clouds.
Russia was never supposed to be easy. After climbing Kilimanjaro in Tanzania and Aconcagua in Argentina over the previous thirteen months, Grace and I wanted something that felt different: a mountain with real technical demands, real cold, and a country that would push us out of our comfort zone in every way possible. Elbrus checked all of those boxes.
Mount Elbrus is a dormant volcano in the Caucasus Mountains of southern Russia, just north of the Georgian border. It has two summits: the east peak at 5,621 meters and the west peak at 5,642 meters. The west summit is higher, and that was our target. It's the tallest mountain in Europe by a wide margin, and for us it would be number three on the Seven Summits list.
Our journey started in Moscow, where we caught a connecting flight to Mineralnye Vody followed by a three-hour drive into the Baksan Valley. The town of Terskol at 2,143 meters would be our starting point. From there, we'd spend a week acclimatizing, training, and waiting for the weather before making our push for the top. The Mountain Professionals would be guiding us, and we trusted them completely. What followed was seven days of clouds, cold, wind, and one perfect morning that changed everything.
We landed in Mineralnye Vody late in the afternoon and piled into a van for the drive south. The road wound through the Baksan Valley, narrowing as the mountains closed in on both sides. By the time we reached Terskol, the sun was dropping behind the ridgeline and the air had that clean, thin bite to it that tells you altitude is coming.
Our lodge was simple and comfortable, a wooden building with balconies looking out at the surrounding peaks. The team gathered for dinner, introductions, and a briefing from the guides. The plan was straightforward: acclimatize for a couple of days in the area, move up onto the mountain, train at base camp, and then wait for the right weather window to go for the summit. For Grace and me, Elbrus is our 3rd of the 7 Summits — we completed Kilimanjaro in Tanzania and Aconcagua in Argentina in the thirteen months leading up to this.
Our first acclimatization hike took us up Mount Cheget, the peak directly across the valley from Elbrus. The idea was simple: gain several thousand feet of elevation to let our bodies start adjusting, then come back down to sleep at the lower altitude. Go high, sleep low. It's the oldest trick in the mountaineering playbook.
The weather had other plans for us, though. Clouds rolled in heavy and stayed all day. By the time we reached the upper slopes of Cheget, we couldn't see more than fifty feet in any direction. Elbrus, which on a clear day dominates the skyline from this spot, was completely invisible. We stood on the rocky summit at 3,601 meters, took a few photos in the grey, and started back down. Not the most scenic day, but our lungs were getting their first taste of thin air.
Today we finally set foot on the mountain. And what a mountain it is. From the base station, we took the cable car system partway up and then started hiking on foot, climbing steep gravel terrain with glaciers flanking both sides. The landscape felt volcanic and raw, loose rock and scree with snow patches and cable car lines stretching up into the clouds overhead.
Our high point for the day was Priut 11 at around 4,100 meters, the site of the famous old mountain refuge. The key to preventing altitude sickness is to go high and sleep low. Each day, you push a little higher and come back down. Today was the first of those pushes, getting our bodies used to the thinner air at altitude before we'd eventually move up and stay.
We moved our gear up to base camp and settled into our home for the next few days: a shipping container. Not a tent, not a hut, but a literal blue shipping container bolted to the mountainside at 3,800 meters. It was basic, but it had walls, a floor, and enough room for the team to sleep side by side. The containers are a signature of Elbrus, and honestly, after a long day on the mountain, they felt like a hotel.
What's cool about Elbrus is that you can see the summit from base camp. It sits right there above you, gleaming white against the sky. That visual connection gave us a real sense of readiness. We could trace the route with our eyes and picture ourselves on it. It made the whole thing feel possible.
We spent a couple of days learning basic mountaineering skills: crampons, ice axes, rope work, and self-arrest (how to stop yourself if you start sliding down an icy slope). The trail to the summit is steep, slippery, and covered in ice and snow. Safety was the top priority, and our guides made sure we were ready before letting us go any higher.
Our final acclimatization stop was Pastukhov Rocks at around 4,750 meters. The wind up there was blowing at about 40 km/hr, giving us a real taste of what summit day would feel like. Your face goes numb. Your hands ache. Every step in deep snow takes twice the energy you'd expect. But getting that high and coming back down safely was exactly what our bodies needed.
Base camp meals were one of the unexpected highlights. The cook turned out surprisingly generous plates on those flowered china dishes, the same pattern showing up meal after meal. Real food, real calories, and a good reminder that Russian hospitality extends all the way up the mountain.
Summit day. Excitement, fear, anxiety, cold, tired, locked in. All of those at once. The anticipation never settles, no matter how calmly you try to lie in bed the night before. 3:00 AM was our departure time, giving us just two hours of darkness before sunrise.
We started up toward Pastukhov Rocks, where we'd hiked the previous day for acclimatization, and then traversed slowly across to the saddle between the two peaks. Step by step. At this point, we weren't roped in, so any misstep could be costly. The snow was firm, the air was biting, and headlamps bobbed in a single-file line above and below us.
As the sun peeked over the horizon, it brought on new life. Warmth and strength to continue upward. It was one of the most beautiful and surreal moments we've ever experienced. The entire Caucasus range lit up in orange and gold, with a sea of clouds rolling below us like a slow ocean. How crazy is it that we were climbing the tallest mountain in Europe in the middle of the night? Awesomely crazy.
The last 200 meters were the steepest and most difficult. It was the point of no return. Legs burning, lungs screaming, every step a negotiation with your own body. But with sheer determination, our entire team made it to the top.
We stood proudly above a serene sea of clouds with the peaks of the Caucasus stretching out as far as the eye could see. After all, we were on top of Europe.
South route via cable car, early August (peak season). Budget 7–10 days total including acclimatization. You'll need crampons and ice axe skills — your guide teaches this. Fly into Mineralnye Vody, drive to Terskol. Summit push starts around 3 AM. Prior altitude experience strongly recommended. We used Mountain Professionals — highly recommended.
The climbing season runs from mid-June through early September. July and August offer the best weather windows with longer days and more stable conditions. We climbed in early August and had excellent summit-day weather.
Fly into Moscow, then connect to Mineralnye Vody (MRV). From there it's about a three-hour drive south to Terskol in the Baksan Valley. Most guide companies arrange the transfer.
The standard south route uses the cable car system to gain altitude, then base camps in shipping containers around 3,800 meters. From there, summit day is a long push starting around 3 AM. The route crosses snow and ice and requires crampons and an ice axe.
Elbrus is more technical than Kilimanjaro. You'll need basic crampon and ice axe skills, which most guide companies teach during the acclimatization days. Prior high-altitude experience is strongly recommended. Cardio fitness matters more than strength.
Plan for at least two to three days of acclimatization hikes before your summit attempt. Cheget Peak and Pastukhov Rocks are the standard stops. Go high, sleep low. Don't skip this part.
We climbed with Mountain Professionals and can't recommend them enough. Experienced, safety-focused, and genuinely invested in getting the whole team to the top. A good guide makes all the difference on a mountain like this.