See also on Mountain.RU: Partner's diary about the same traverse (in Russian). Bezengi Wall, travers climb report, topo fnd photos, 1997 (in Russian). Bezengi wall photos from helicopter during rescue in March 2007 (in Russian). Panoramas of Caucasus from Kezgen (in Russian) - over 100 summits and 50 passes. World mountains on Mountain.RU: Bezengi region - over 70 articles and climbing reports (in Russian). Passes of Bezengi region - over 25 trek reports (in Russian).

Certainly, it was Lekha’s idea.
Lekha – Aleksey Ilyuschenko is an advanced alpinist. He has not become the "Master of sport" degree only because he had not enough time, his family was big, a lot of mouths needed to be feed. Apropos, the idea was a long-standing one. The first attempt we made in 1999, that time we passed a half of the traverse – from Shkhara to Dzhangi. So, we had a rough idea of what would that traverse require from us. As for our two-man team – it was forced choice, we invited the friends. But – it didn’t take shape.

… and Lekha was kicking me mercilessly while we were preparing for the traverse. We run in Toksovo, along the route that was invented specially for inanition of idlers like me. As usual, we took about a kilometer of rises and sometimes even more.

Self-portrait of the members (author is the left one)

But all in all I did not get enough physical power, mostly it was Lekha, who made steps and trailed me, sometimes allowing me to work as a leader on rocky walls. So I drag myself along following him like a balloon on the string… And on the 6th day, on the descent, when the adrenalin resolved in the blood, I felt really sick. So I asked Lekha for the “request stop” with tea and a half of an hour of sleep. And anyway, when we descended along the “Crab”, I was drugged and Lesha himself did all the work. Certainly, he shouted at me, probably to cheer up me. By the end of that descent I had become alive and began to shout at Lekha, too, so, after that everything went normally. As, it can be said, it goes.

It was lyrical digression, now I am going to say about everything in order.

After arriving to Bezengi we luckily blended with the schedule of hiking, caught the end of the period of good weather. The first our march, or, to be more exact, run liked the escapade of musketry from the novel of Dumas – to the bastion La-Roshel. As they, we in the “warm corner” in the lower hut just for getting breakfast in the open air.

The beginning of the first march to the Lyalver and Dzhangi was sunny “all round the day”. But from day to day, the border between “clear” and “rain” moved to the midday and to the morning more and more.
On the first day we walked very slowly, like overladen donkeys, as we took as many as we could – all the equipment, we had to bring it to the Lyalver. I hadn’t walked with such a load for 1000 years – since I had been a young tourist.
On Baran-kosh we left Lekha’s children – the youngest John and Alex “to keep house” and went to “Lyalver” to “become open” – and at the same time carried there the first part of things. I confess, but we didn’t come to Lyalver that time – about 50 meters by the altitude – I persuaded Lekha to dig our cargo forward the last raise. I felt a great desire to return back home when it would haven’t got dark yet. We run down to the “Black talus”, and there met Czechs. We had a short talk to them, they gave us some tea and we run further. At last we were descending in deep mist we found our tent with the children with the help of “voice navigation”.

A fear to get to the mist on the descent pursued us constantly, like sometimes a nightmare can pester, and finally it materialized: when we turned back from the hut Dzhangi to the camp, I had to call to the “Black Talus” – the place where we started and take the tent that was patiently waiting for our retuning. I managed to get to the tent when the sun was shining, but at the moment I took it, the sun disappeared and from behind the pass Kel a cloud came, it was so solid, that I lost the path on the talus. For some time I moved by guess-work, then I understood that I had lost the way, but approximately knew, where I could stand at the moment. Then I switched to the feeling of “general direction”, but mountains are not “park of culture and rest” and finally I came to rocky faults. It was a very uncomfortable feeling – I was along, nothing could be seen. I wanted home very much… GPS had no time to help me, the batteries died. So – lesson for the future – always! For every device! Have a reserve!

The guard of Dzhangi-kosh

I had enough brains to return a little bit back, switched my head on and find safe pass in necessary direction, although it went through gullies.
Let’s leave lyrics here for some time. I’ll try to describe our adventures within the bounds of dull chronics.

After visiting the Lyalver we moved to the hut “Dzhangi”. There we were met by nice stone statue (in the photo) and two women from Slovenia.
I don’t remember exactly how many times we went to the Dzhangi, it seems it was the fifth time when we left necessary equipment and provisions there. We went back to the camp just in time – bad weather that was promised arrived. But in fact we were not confused with that – we planned to have two days-off. In the divine office, probably, our request was accepted with comprehension, and on the third day they rented us a small period of fine weather – just enough time to get to the “Black talus” and to make a starting camp there. It was a very lucky idea to pass the night in a normal tent, not in a storm one, which we took to pass the nights on the traverse as our start was delayed for a day. Probably it was made to provide clear sky for us for passing the traverse, just in case the sky decided to throw down to earth excess water. Excess water fell down all the day of 16th of July long and on our altitude (3700 m) it put as a 30-cm deep layer of snow (how we could feel ourselves in a storm tent!). Sitting in one place had one more positive side – the last doubts in necessity of going the traverse disappeared. And we started…

The beginning. “Black talus” under the Ljalver”.

The first day. 17th of July. From that day, every morning, at about 4 o’clock, Lekha said – Hose, it is time to get up! And it was absolutely impossible to beg for 10 extra minutes. The first day of traverse. Lyalver – summit 4310 – trough beyond it ahead of the climb to the shoulder of Gestola. The first overnight stop.

The second day – Gestola (our ancient dream realized – it is a very beautiful mountain, isn’t it?) After the descent from the Gestola we nearly run along the Katin plateau – there was much less snow than we expected. And we reached the Katin we passed the night on its shoulder. By the voice of Saratov Jury during the evening sйance of communication we felt that there, in the Base Camp, they were surprised with our energy. I was astonished, too…

The third day. The phrase “the third day – flight is fine” is on the tip of my tongue, I hardly could keep from writing it)). Moreover, it was not the flight, it was the start of climbing along the “Katinskaya saw”. Saw like saw, some strips of it could be climbed over, other – rounded. After it we saw two Dzhangi – the Western and the Central. Indescribable beauty!

The fourth day. Here it was, Dzhangi the Easter, where were had been so many times, it was our Rubicon. Like the pilots, we knew – it was the point of making the decision. Really it was the only place on the traverse where we could descend without difficulties. The other variants could provide problems.
We took our equipment and provisions that we had brought there beforehand and descended to the crosspiece between the Peak of Shota Rustaveli and Dzhangi. In 1999 we had passed there 2 days. We passed the peak of Shota Rustaveli by. We decided not to ascent to the top of it – we had been there two times already, so it was possible to pass it by. Well, the decision was made we started approaching to the final strips.
He saw of Shkhara. On the first “gendarme” (rocky outcrop) I made a sacrifice: I lost camelot and a nut – they fell down from the clip when I was choosing the necessary one. It was offensively but not mortally. By 5 o’clock in the evening we reached a wonderful trough ahead of the last two “gendarmes”. I persuaded Lekha to make a bivouac there he wanted to go further to the theoretical overnight stop on the edge in front of the Western Shkhara. On that trough we could stroll like along the Nevsky Street, the sun was shining, we dry sleeping bags a little.

The fifth day. 10 o’clock in the morning. We were on the Western top of the Shkhara. The edge that from the Shkharsky saw had been seen interminably long became as short as three huge cornices. But, as well as we finished the traverse of one of them, the next became waiting for its turn. We went almost all the time along the Georgian side. I began to understand why the traverse from Shkhara to Lyalver “weighted” “38 parrots” and from Lyalver to Shkhara it was too much longer… On the fifth day, when all the “hallucinations” visited us, the traverse of Shkhara became the main dish of the season. All the day long we passed going on the forward teeth of crampons “on three times”, it was necessary to make a platform in the edge to have a rest, and if we stroke a little bit stronger, then it was necessary, a through hole to the native Northern side appeared in the edge. And as for belay… We threw the rope to the other side of the cornice. If something happened it should cut into the snow, and how far would it cut into it, only God knew…
By the evening we almost got to the main summit. It seemed it was near, but there were two more unpleasant cornices before it, and we had the first more or less acceptable platform under our legs, that after a half of an hour of working transformed into supportable place for tent. It was our last overnight stop on the edge. Somewhere far from us on the Georgian side there was a storm. Apropos, about hallucinations – I asked Lesha that evening - “Doesn’t it seem to you sometimes that our team consists of three members? I sometimes feel that someone goes with us.” “It’s OK,” – said Lekha, - “it seemed to me that we are a team of four...”

In the morning of the 6th day we passed three ropes to the main Shkhara and returned back to the normal world, where it was possible to go on two legs, and it was not necessary to control every your step… Although, from that moment it became necessary to control everything with double attention. Every. Step. Because the most quantity of the troubles happened on the descent. When you couldn’t think about anything except going to the base camp. And adrenalin had already been blown away. And like a snack, when we had descended to the pillow of the glacier, we had to find the way to the calm part between the cracks. Luckily, after the descents using devices we came across the alpinists (the first people after six days!) that were climbing up – they told us about their way between the cracks. Ant Saratov advised us to go close to the edge of Tomashek. But all in all we had to jump – to climb – to creep over three cracks and to move the rucksacks with the help of ropes.
And then – here it is – the happiness – way home…

P.S.
And the Czech, that gave us tea, didn’t return back from the Dzhangi…

Photos from the traverse.

Island. Northern massif above the clouds.

On the first ground – the profile of the Northern wall of the Gestola.

View to the eastern branch on the Bezengiysky glacier and the edge of the Katin’s plateau from the top of the Gestola.

View to the West from the Western Dzhangi.

View to the West from the Eastern Dzhangi.

Clouds only.

Roerich only.