spirits of the forest
= Day 20 =
I woke up early, ate a little, got out of the tent, and only then realized what an amazing place I had ended up in. Right from my campsite, I could see Mount Oshten in all its glory. It looks like it's covered in snow, but it's actually just scree. The sun's rays illuminate these pieces of rock, making them look like a snowy blanket. I still had to walk another 12 km to reach the forest entrance. Along the way, I saw several beekeepers with their domestic GAZ and ZIL trucks. At the entrance, there was a small parking lot, a café, and a small canteen.
On the way, I met a married couple, both around 50 years old. We had already seen each other yesterday when we were buying tickets to the reserve. We walked together for a while, got to know each other, and chatted a bit. They turned out to be from Rostov, and to my surprise, they had never been to this reserve before. And it's so close. Sometimes tourists know more about your homeland than you do yourself. After all, when you live in a certain area, there's always that nagging thought in the back of your mind that you always have the opportunity to visit those interesting places and landmarks. But then 5 years pass, 10 years, 15 years, and you've still never been to the sea, to the national reserve, or to other cool places that people from other cities or even countries often strive to visit.
We walked together for about 4-5 km, then I split off and went on alone – my pace was significantly faster. Along the way, I met several groups of tourists traveling here just like me. Some were returning from the Fisht shelter, located at the foot of the mountain itself. Some, like me, were heading towards Mount Fisht, some were going further on, and some were heading towards the sea. It turns out there's a hiking trail from here that leads to the sea at Dagomys, which is not far from Sochi. After covering about a quarter of the way, I came across a huge oak tree, where I stopped for a short rest. I took out some kozinaki and ate them, washing them down with water. Before me was a truly ancient tree. I sat opposite it and felt its wisdom, experience, and strength. Many travelers pass by this majestic oak, and it just stands there, seeing them off into the distance.
Leaving the forest, I saw a magnificent variety of flowers, endless meadows, and mountains alluring with their appearance and grandeur. It was very sunny; every step brought me joy. It strongly reminded me of the nature of the Shire in the movie "The Lord of the Rings." It all feels like a fairy tale.
Around the middle of the way, the trail led me to a monument to the Great Patriotic War. It turns out that in 1942, the local people withstood an attack by the fascists, managing to defend their territory against the onslaught of the invaders. I took a five-minute break here, and two travelers with horses, which they were using as pack animals, climbed up to the mountain. They told me that in the forest just before the Fisht shelter, they had just met a small bear cub. And I became very curious whether I might somehow run into its mother.
After a short rest, I moved on and accidentally took the wrong trail. Instead of going along the normal path, I for some reason went over the scree. Sometimes my feet would sink between the stones, getting stuck; several times I could easily have broken my ankle or twisted it.
I urgently needed to get back to the trail, and to do that I had to push through huge thickets of plants about a meter and a half high. Along the way, I periodically came across bedding spots where someone had clearly slept. The grass couldn't have flattened itself. And that "someone" was huge, just like an adult bear. I saw three or four such bedding spots while I was getting out of those difficult-to-pass bushes.
And so began that very forest, after which I would come out to the shelter. And it was right here that those two men had seen the bear cub. I was on alert and kept walking, carefully looking around. Fortunately, I never did meet the bear cub.
Around 4:30 PM, I managed to reach the Fisht shelter. There I saw many tents set up around the main two-story building. Two large gazebos, toilets, and showers. There were several tent camp groups here. First thing, they registered me in the Ministry of Emergency Situations database, asked where I was heading, so that, in case of anything, they would know where to look for me. In one of the gazebos, people were starting to cook dinner. Two people were saying that they, too, had seen that same bear cub in the forest today, the one the two men near the WWII monument had mentioned before entering the forest.
It started to rain. I asked the guys how to get to the Small Fisht Glacier from here. It was one of the local "wonders." This glacier is the lowest glacier in the Caucasus – 1980 meters above sea level. But there are other wonders too. For example, endemic plants – some species can only be found here and nowhere else; they are unique. The Pshekhsky Waterfall is also one of the wonders, falling from the western walls of Fisht, reaching a height of 250 meters. It's one of the highest waterfalls in our country. The "Krestik-Tourist" cave is the deepest in Russia – its depth is 650 meters, and the total length of its underground passages is about 16 km. There are other wonders too. But I was specifically interested in the Small Fisht Glacier, because in two days I could realistically only tackle that one. The guys in the gazebo told me how to get there, but they were very surprised that I was setting off right then. It was raining, and it was already starting to get dark, and I was alone, without a group. But I understood that I absolutely had to see at least one of the wonders for which this place is famous. Neither the rain, nor the darkness, nor the lack of companions bothered me. After all, I have a raincoat, and I've long been used to solitude. They showed me the trail, and I set off.
On the way, I met the last group of tourists for the day, returning from the glacier to the shelter, walking along a narrow path. They greeted me and told me that there would soon be a sign that would lead me straight to the glacier. I turned at that sign, walked a bit further, and saw in the distance what I had come for. After the sign, I still had to walk quite a long way. There was no one around for a long time; I was alone, surrounded by nature in the gathering twilight. Thunder was rumbling, rain was falling. And then, finally, I made it.
It wasn't so much the glacier that impressed me, but the view from there, towards the horizon. The sight was truly beautiful. The mix of mountains, thunderstorm, rain, and the faint twilight – all of this together made the beautiful spectacle divine. If there had been no thunderstorm, or rain, or even the twilight, it wouldn't have been so amazing. I came at the right moment and didn't regret it one bit.
It was time to return to the shelter. At first, I went back along the same trail I had come up on. But after the thickets started, my trail unexpectedly ended. At first, I didn't think much of it – I was sure that by going this way, I would still end up where I needed to be. But I was wrong. The thickets grew taller and taller. Moreover, in the thickets, I repeatedly found grass flattened by bears – just like earlier today. On one of those bedding spots, I saw a bear trail leading away from it. The tracks were fresh. And I also distinctly smelled the scent of fur and literally felt someone's gaze on my skin. I had to get out of there very carefully…
The feeling of being watched continued for some time – until I came out to another, no less eerie place. That place seemed to look at me with a sinister stare. I felt the presence of some kind of beast, some kind of cat, possibly a leopard. There aren't many of these cats here, but they exist. According to data from the internet, there are only about five leopards here.
I turned around and walked back from that place. And I decided to ask the world for help, just like a few days ago on the way to Belorechensk when I got a flat tire halfway there. This time, I addressed the spirit of this forest; I asked it to lead me back to the trail I had come on. And immediately after that, I began to feel as if some invisible force was guiding my feet every time I lifted my foot off the ground – with every step. It was as if something was taking my foot and turning it in the right direction, and I didn't resist – I went where it led me. This way, I came out to a dried-up waterfall, which, under these conditions, was perfectly suitable as a path. I climbed down it and ended up inside a small bowl-shaped depression, 10-15 meters in diameter. My trail was still nowhere to be seen. I stopped, thought for a moment about what to do now. For a second, I considered what it would be like to stay here for the night, but quickly dismissed that stupid idea. I had to get out somehow, and I had to do it as quickly as possible. And then a miracle happened – I decided to walk a few more meters forward from where I was standing, and unexpectedly, I came out onto that very trail I had taken to the glacier. It turns out I had been taking the most direct route the whole time, cutting off all possible corners, and ended up almost right at the camp. And very soon I was back at the shelter, watching people getting ready for sleep, taking care of their business before bed. But some were still sitting in the gazebo by the fire, drinking tea. I decided I'd had enough for today and went to set up my tent. What happened to me today is real magic. The world hears, the world helps, the world cares. I'm still experiencing a strange mix of feelings. A pleasant bewilderment, maybe even a slight shock. Time to rest; the day was exceptionally eventful.