Speaking political language, a revolutionary situation has arisen in our club. Many young masters of sports and sportsmen that are about to receive a master degree are fond of climbing only steep difficult walls. But where can they be found? We were nearly been going to Asia, to Karavshin, but it had become uncalm there, a new little war had started again. So, somebody, now appears, that it was Dan, just in jest suggested the Wall of Trolls. At the beginning everything in his idea appeared to be simply unreal: distant north wall, the wall, that is climbed only once in a period of few years, and the routes there are not some of many, but real 6-s. Just there nearly 10 years ago the Odincov’s group’s “Russian Way” started. Now all advanced alpinists know about that project.

So, there was a lot to think about. We began to communicate with experiensed people, to consult. John Dmitrienko said, that the wall was a super one, Viktor Volodin, father native, approved the idea too. So, preparations began. David for a week locked himself up in the garage, and, armed with a saw, sewing mashing, mummy and with his friend Lenja Timohin, began to sweat over platform. Grisha was set to prepare for a trip his bus, that was bought on the occasion, Dan learned norvegian language and comunicated with receiving side, and, as for me, I was buzy with preparing visas. Thus, everybody had a lot to do. Inspite of the fact, that everything had been thought-over beforehand, at the last day it was found out that we had forgotten a greate ammount of different irreplaceable things. But it was normal.

So, finally, here it is – long-awaited departure. Having lost a half a day in Moskow we, having left behind unfinished works, undigged beds, mothers, fathers, girlfriends and friends, dashed forward to a route Moskow – St. Petersburg, - now we have only one way – straight forward!

The bottom part of the route. Many cornices are seen.

Where will climb? Planning the route direction.

The first metres aren’t easy

On the way to St. Petersburg it was realised that something in the car is knocking very suspiciously, so, after rather long-lasting discussion we decided to visit a car-reparing service: the only problem was to find it at 12 p.m.. Having wandered about an hour in the town, we have decided to spend the night there. In the morning in service sleeply-eyed mechanic Vitja after long time rummaging under the car resolved: “This car, is surely wobbied up to the end, the gearbox is about to be broken, there was no butter for a long time…” But then “calmed down”: “But Moscow you’ll reach …”

The first bivouac. Probably, the most comfortable of the whole route.

It started. Hangings…

Maxic is running ahead. The 6th part.

We told him that we had started our trip in Moscow and were going to Norway. – “Will we reach it?”. Having heard this Vitja made his eyes round and said that he could promise nothing. We parted with him after flooding butter to the gearbox and taking a tank of butter with us, solemnly promised to flood it every 500 km… well, it is normal.

Having successfully overcome two kilometres of border zone, we have turned out to be on the “enemy’s” territory. So, here we were – racing on the finnnish route to Turku. As we, in consequence of our stupidness, haven’t booked tickets to the ferry to Stockholm beforehand, it happened to feel nervous about the places on the ferry for us and our vechicle. But finally everything turned out to be OK and after one night we found ourselves on one of the guays in Stockholm. On that moment only thousand kilometres separeted us from our wall. Safely overcame that distanse the next day we reached Trollveggen Camping beside the Wall of Trolls. This occasion happened at about midnight and the best thing we invented was to settle down in the tent straight in front of the gates of reception.

Here they are, sundowns in Norway

How comfortable it is in the platform

Dave got sad. Againg carrying cargos today.

The next day became the day of many discoveries. The first thing, that impressed all of us was the scale of the wall, then surprises began to accumulate: torrential rains, prices and variety of products, etc… How could they live here! One long loaf cost 80 rubles! The package of the 0,5% milk – 50 r.! They didn’t even hear what evaporated milk was! So, we understood why all vikings and trolls had died out: from starvation, it’s clear!

And I’m belaying. I’m lucky!

Hangings! Belaying is posssible only from the board.

Grisha’s fagged out face. He is belaying.

The whole day was spent on solving organisation questions. In the evening we came to agreement that we should go to the wall early in the morning in order to avoid rain that started there stricktly at 4 o’clock p.m.. However, closer to the end of the night it was realized that only the half of the group had put the clocks to the Norwegian time. Alarm-clocks were ringing from 6 till 8 o’clock a.m.. As a result nobody sleeped himself out and the departure was postponed to 11 a.m.. Thus, we prepared things to delive and started the way: 3 km by freeway up to the railway brigde.Across the bridge – by short defections, because trains there were rasing at the speed of about 140 km/hour. Then 1,5 hours by coast and moose paths up to the big stonesteam near the foot of the wall. Then 3 more hours upwards. As soon as we started to pass the disposite of large stones, different finds that couldn’t but perturb an alpinist’s heart: scarps of broken ropes and loops. But some useful things, for example a pair of carabines of well-known american firm, were also found there. While we were creeping over the stones, it started raining, so when we reached the wall, we had already been considerably drenched. Then we had to find a route. Firstly it had been desided to climb the route “Baltica”, but where the beginning of it was, we wonder… The description was rather skimpy, we had only the UIAA scheme. Cornices, slots – there were a lot of such things. So, we began to stroll along the wall in hope to find marks that could mean the beginning of the route. Suddenly Grisha shouted joyfully: “I found!” – and waved something like a wrapper. Appeared that it was the packing of vitamins made in Russia in 97. Oh, here were russians! We looked attentively – truthly, the slot, something like a loop hung. Probably, there. So, we rejoiced and run back home. On the way we came across someone’s fresh traces. David declaimbed that they belonged to a wild boar and we should be more careful, but nobody took care about his words. Later we realised that a wild boar turned out to be a little baby-deer, that David himself nearly trampled down. As we came to camping we felt something wrong. Different people came to us and asked various questions. Later we understood that the master of camping had told everybody that we were going to climb the wall. So, whole families came to stare at us, and it was Dave, who became the most popular person, he showed our platform and explained everybody in details how to live in it. In the evening one Finnish alpinist visited us and said, that we are fine fellows, “Cool idea!”. Dave Saveliev showed him the newest invention, ancor hooks, and tried to sell a pair of them, but the finn said that “aid climbing” didn’t taxi, and moreover, he had to climb 10 ropes 7a on the route the next day, and went away.The last trait to our popularity added an episode at the kitchen. Two swedes gave up us the stove, saying that we need to eat a lot. They even wanted to give us a pan, but then, when they found out that we were going to cook “pilaf with pork”, quickly reconsidered.

Beauty…

At last we have moved. The second bivouac.

Starting the work again.

The next day we oversleeped again. It was normal… The ligament Griha-Max started processing the route, other were tanning and completing the plarform. In the morning in our camp was greate disorder, because the day before everyone had got wet to the skin, some - honestly because of the rain, but there were found those ones, for whom the rain was too short. Griha and Max, returning after the processing, decided to cross the river through ford. A good idea, but the stream appeared to be too strong… So, in our camp that time looked like the Cherkizovsky market: clothes, boots, food – everything in one heap. And in that moment local press arrived unexpectedly, began to take photos, ask questions. But what could we tell them? The processing was lasting two days. Firstly, Max and Griha worked. Fellows with sure started to climb one variant, the ringing of hooks could be heared in the camping. But closer to the evening they got cooler, were brought up short against “a mirrow” and spoiled the wall with one more bolt. The rest of our group was that time relaxing in the camp and giving them advice by the walkie-talkie.

Morning. We are rummaging, don’t want anywhere.

Griha is resting. A well-earned day off. The other – work hard!!!

Monolithsѓє

Up to the end of the day boys had climbed about 1,5 ropes even along the route, found many old bolts. In the evening David and Dave went to replace them. On the way they saw local alpinists. They were hanging literally like bunches in one slot on the rock near the freeway that picture was exactly like we could see on May holidays on Filatovskaya Troyka in Foros. Probably, it was something easy, we thought. Looked through the guide-book: 6c/6c+, climbing with own points. What could be said? – Fine fellows, nothing more! In the evening we came beside the wall, drank tea, share impressions and dispersed. Boys went downwards, to the camp, and we – in the tent, as the next day we should got up at 5 a.m. There were three of us, so we settled down in a two-place tent with difficulty and tried to fall asleep, but without any success. When it got dark, from the wall began to fall down basers. Firstly airplane drone was heard, then a kind of bang. And above the valley a hardly noticeable dark parachute was soaring. Later it appeared, that jumps from the Trolls were forbidden, but, inspite of it, about 200-250 people every year jumped here. After landing they quickly put their things to bags and run away, because the fine for this entertainment equaled about 5 000$ plus the parashute and other equipment was confiscated. Generally, it wasn’t a cheap kind of pleasure. And it was nesessary for basers to run quickly. So, in the morning we with greate difficulty got up at 6 a.m.. Thanks to basers! Got in touch with people in the camp, it had fallen to their lot too. One of the basers at 2 a.m. landed just near their tents. The weather ended, the valley started to got cover by mist. Nothing to do, we had no extra time, so had to work hard. All the day long the first was Dan going, and one of the ropes even by free climbing. We managed to hang four more ropes and then it started raining cats and dogs, it was felt even under the hanging. So, we decided to go downwards, all the more that we had hung everything we could – there were no more ropes. When we were going downwards along the wall, it nigh only washed us off. Everything that was outside of hermetic bags got wet to the last thread. We took our camp and run downwards. On the way home Dan decided to repeat the exploit and forced the river through ford. When he realised that couldn’t cope the stream and swam, he remembered that his player and phone were in the pockets. In the next few minutes the norwegian echo learned many new words…

BD-shit. With such a shit we had to climb.

Want a nice sleep. What the walls?

Everybody to carry cargos!

The next day we were going to leave the solid earth. Again went upwards, again beside the wall sort our equipment, found out a lot of unuseful things, left them downwards. So, we could go up. According to the plan that day was the day of the first experience of carrying shipment up by banisters. Max and Grisha worked forward, other carried. By the end of the day we gathered on the shelf about 40 sm depth and 2,5 m width, and were going to hung platforms. What was it, knew only Dan and David, other saw it only in the pictures and cool alpinists’ films. Keeping silent, we were hunging on the stations and watched how profies did their affair. Apropos, one of our platforms was experemential, nobody had ever lived in it. By my own request they spoiled the wall with one more bolt, so this way it became more convenient, three of us will hung on 2 bolts. It became normal…

I’m climbing again.

The installation of platforms. Not an easy task.

No water here…

Night passed strangely calmly, didn’t know how other, but as for me, I felt asleep immediately and woke up only closer to the morning. Represent, you open your eyes, above is yellow tent, all is like you are lieing in the tent somewhere in the camp or even in the forest near Moscow, and suddenly you hear strange sound like muted airplane drone. I automaticaly opened the tent to understand what was happening and suddenly felt giddy: we were hunging at about 200 metres above the earth! Near were flying basers. Everything became clear. O, shit! We had yesterday climbed to the wall! And now would’t climb down for a long time… this thought made me feel uncomfortable. In the morning the next surprise was waiting for us, the withdrawable bolt, on which one of the platforms + 3 bodies + 4 steamer trunks + big heap of different things were hanging, was taken out from the wall by the light handmoving. This news put all of us to a kind of shock, we made revision and recognised that there were only few fine bolts, other had too cut tsangs, and they didn’t open inside of the wall. Generally speaking, it was a trouble and even Saveliev, the supporter of pure style, lamented that for the kilometre-long wall five bolts were not enough. Apropos, it was he, who had spoiled our bolts with the help of the saw, could he do it deliberately? It was normal…

Everything has bored me! If I come down, I would go serfing!

The end of the bottom bastion. 7 days have passed.

Dave was so tired that fell asleep while sitting.

Only one thing made us glad: according to the description, all the stations on the route were overpunched. We also liked the description itself, we were not good in Norwegian, so we had taken only the picture and the scheme by UIAA. According to our counts at the scheme the were not about 10 pitches. Probably, they lost the list when where handing the book to printing. But it’s normal…

The photos like this are coming out if you have a wide-angle lens.

Any more platforms…

… Banisters…

The life became better from day to day. Every day we tried to lay down earlier in order to get up and start the work earlier the next day, but we didn’t manage to do it, so everyone had a greate lack of sleep. People began to nap at the stations and especially while belaying. On the second day it was recognised that we had drunk water of two days forward, tried to spare, but insuccessfully, we wanted to drink very much. We tried to made “waterdripper” (two hooks and a hermobag) and even managed to gather 3 litres, and on the joy immediately drank it out. Next time 1,5 litres from 5 gathered flew down with the bottle, that, apropos, were necessary to guard, too. The work was running, every day a pair of us was going forward, upwards. Because of the hangings people could hardly be seen, sometimes only stones and pieces of moss flew down. The work was running with the variable success. The temp of moving was really aggrieving: sometimes we managed to hang 1,5 ropes a day and a half of rope was not along the route. So that way day by day we climbed. Above the head was the next hanging after which seemed to be positive piece of wall, on the right – a couloir, where every half an hour large stones, as big as Grisha’s bus, rolled down with terrible noise, and downwards there was the valley, native camping and observation platform where idlers’ strong optics was shining. Every morning from about 8 o’clock a.m. on the observation platform a column of telescopes and photocameras began to form up. They were taking photos of us mostly and sometimes of falling stones. When we came back to camping they said that we could be seen excellently, even fingers on the hands could be distinguished, they followed every our step all ten days long… Pervents… Generally on the 3rd or 4th day our mood began to go down, the most spoilling thing was the complete unclearness where we were, how much and where we should go futher.

…Climbing…

…And here it is – the top!

…Don’t see the joy on the face

The opposite site of the wall.

Only one thing made us feeling pleasure: the weather was fine. But, on the other side, if it were raining, we could get much water. Once in the evening we made a party, everything was how it should be: music, cognac, choral singing and even salute from gas ballons. It became more merry, but only for a short time.Two of the days we were watching British soloist Michle, who was going to climb up the swedish route. He several times tried to come to the beginning of the route but every time run down from falling stones. We hoped very much that he would give up his idea, but one morning saw his steamer trunk at the several ropes above the earth height, exactly in the couloir where stones were falling continiously all the time. That day in the evening a helicopter flew there and salvation works began. It is necessary to pay tribute to norwegians. They operated very clear, it seemed that in Russia we couldn’t do it like them. The helicopter made two circles taking photos, and on the 3rd circle they hang a man on the cable who hooked the lifeless body. We stopped all our activities and with the hearts sanked looked after the operation. The helicopter was hunging in the couloir, where every moment it could be broken by falling stones, textually 10 minutes later a gigant plate fell there . When the helicopter was passing us we could distinctly saw Michle’s body, hitched directly to the system, they hadn’t even pulled it in. What could we think? – Surely, a corse. Our misgivings comfirmed when the helicopter instead of going to a hospital landed in the valley. We tried not to speak about it. That evening everyone of us especially wanted downwards and home.

And again came new day, again carrying steamer trunks. Dan was working as the number one. By the walkie-talkie all the time they asked for the rope, they so something like a positive piece! By the midday we climbed to grassy shelfs, forward was seen nothing, banisters were going in mist, sometimes small stones were flying down from there, but all this didn’t metion, there was green grass underour foots, bees were flying we could stay not in stirrups, but on plane – what a pretty feelling!

But pleased we were for a short time. As soon as it became positive slooping it became unreal to carry steamer trunks alone. The only variant was like this: two of us on the palispaste and one – attendant, and this way - 3 moves per rope. It was wished something to get unfastened and fall down. Moreover, the mist dispersed and a new wall, approximately like 1,5 Morcheky stood up in front of us, and something said that we didn’t see it up to the end… Eh, we were here for a very short time again. On the one shelf we found some snow, so we drank tea as much as we want and renewed our ballast for about 50 litres. How we didn’t want to leave that place! Water – here it was, food – here, a nice sleeping place – there, on the grass. What we needed more! But Dan commanded to go away and went up himself, we gathered things. After 50 metres we saw one more shelf and a theatre stage, Saveliev was going there back and forward almost without belay and mumbling. We could hear only scraps of frases like: “It could be climbed up here… and here too… No, it’s illogical… No, here they couldn’t go exactly…”

“ - Is it the end? Grisha, write to Pionova, let her give us Odincov’s phone number, may be he can prompt us where they climbed here.”

The pendulum we, however, didn’t find, but noticed some triangular cornice, that was likely to be marked in the description, when we reached it, it became clear that we were going the norwegian route. The rock was friedle, climbing – difficult, bags were clinging to all salients, generally… everything was excellent… In the evening we again declared communism for food and poured out 50 litres of water that were carried there with such difficulty. When, according to our reckonings, we were in few days away from the top, Dan and David broke their platform.

On approaching to the next spending the night we accidently woke up the Trolls. Thuder and lightnings! It hit at the neighbouring tops of our mount. It appeared that Rangarek (Armageddon in local idiom) had come. A suggestion to miscarry all the iron far away was voiced. A good idea, but somewhere downwards there was Daveid, the last words we heared from him by the waklie-talkie were: “Switch off walkie-talkies, quickly…, or now...”, and that was all, the end of the connection. We tried to carry steamer trunk by palispaste, but the rope didn’t go, the bags were likely to be sticked. What could we do? May be Dave hadn’t unfastened them from the station, let’s give him the rope. So, we give him firstly small piece by small piece and then several metres in a moment. Then through the noise of the rain we heard a hair-raising wail. Then rope was twitched several times. We decided to pull. 30 minutes later the bags and a man with the twisted face appeared. The first thought: let’s run away, this fellow wasn’t in a good mood, but we had nothing to do. The first 5 minutes after the meeting we could understand nothing but swearing. Then it was cleared up that we were a little bit guilty. It happened this way: Dave was sitting at the station when the thumderstorm began. The steamer trunks were not raised for a long time, so he decided to carry a part of them by banisters and then went down to take the second part. He had already climbed about a half of the rope when saw that we started to pull steamer trunks and stretched the station. He went down like a bullet and began to try to unfastened the station, and suddenly… Pour Dave, he catched himself 100 kg of bags. That was why he was a little bit angry. But it was normal…

The thumberstorm had sharply stopped and we began to settle down on the shelf, as there was nothing and nowhere to hang. In the next day morning Dan heroically decided to reach the top by all means. We ate nearly all products and jettisoned the rest! So, on that moment we had 5 steamer trunks instead of 6 and 2 bags with platforms. An hour ago it started raining. From above Dan constantly “politely” asked us for the rope, pour he, he had to hang at stations barefoot for an hour waiting, but what we could do, we had to carry steamer trunks… Inspite of raining, the brains had dried off comletely, movings became fluent and slow. David worked as the second and heroically carried a bag. Espessially well he felt himself on traverses. Along the route now here now there the scarps of old ropes began to be found. It made us hope. Closer to the evening we had done almost all ropes except a dynamic one. It was mist around us nothing was seen, fellows shouted that they saw the tower and they needed one more rope. At last they reached the top, we carried things and went to them, the balisters we decided to remove later, as we had no forces at all. At the bottom the last steamer trunk had rested, so Max, squeaking teeth, went to bring it up, it was 3 diagonal dulfers down and up. When he came back, he told us that the ropes had frayed through up to the end. We were on the top, wasn’t known were, there was mist around, but that was the top – it was clear. As we reached the top, it stopped raining as for spite– so it became impossible to get water to drink.

We opened everything we had, put on all dry clothes we had and wrapped up into the platform tent. Tomorrow morning we were going downwards.

One more surprise was waiting as in the morning – instead of going down for 2 hours, we had to walk along the moraines It was normal… Thanks, that we had guessed to send forward a messenger to get a car. In the evening all the camping welcomed us with applauds. It turned out that they all 10 days long were looking after us and even made stakes. So, we again were at the centre of attention. A family from Golland had even baked pancakes for us to celebrate our returning. On the reception we found many notes with good wishes, there even was a list of boys from St. Petersburg. That day evening a little banquet was going to be organized, a basejumper that took a video of us when he was flying after the jump had promised to come. Now rest and only rest!

The next 2 days journalists from regional newspapers and norwegian TV didn’t leave us alone. We had even sold them the video of solvation works of british alpinist. So we decided to go home as we couldn’t speak about the ascent more. The next day David and Max were going to the wall to bring the rest equipment. Hurray! We were going home! On the money that we had got from the selling the video we bought a plenty of beer, chips and milk. Thousand kilometres to Stockhgolm run away invisibly. Then two days that were unusefully spent in the shops in Stockhgolm…, but, no, we visited one museum to clear our conscience. Then we get on the board of the splendid ferry, in two staterooms without windows, situated lower then waterline was, but, on the other hand, the was an unlimitted shower. It was normal…

Helsinki-Torfjanovka, flew through and even didn’t notice! Here our native russian was, Viborg, St. Petersburg – home, sweet home!