COPYRIGHTED: NOT FOR AUTHORIZED DISTRIBUTION The Untold TRUE Story o f the Dyatlov Pass Incident Donnie Eichar and J.C. Gabel COPYRIGHTED: NOT FOR AUTHORIZED DISTRIBUTION COPYRIGHTED: NOT FOR AUTHORIZED DISTRIBUTION The Hikers’ Story Рюкзаков, по традиции, легких, Let your backpacks be light, Погоды—хорошей всегда, weather be always fine, Зимой—не слишком морозной, winter be not too cold, А летом —чтоб не жара. and summer without heat GEORGY KRIVONISHCHENKO, excerpt from “New Year’s Poem,” 1959. If one had been able to glimpse inside dormitory 531 on the 23rd of January, 1959, one would have seen the very picture of fellowship, youth and happiness. The room was not particularly attractive or comfortable. The furnishings were serviceable at best, and the room was perpetually drafty, compelling its occupants to wear hats and bulky sweaters indoors for half the year. One might have assumed in observing the room—with its blistered paint, lumpy mattresses and lingering odor of kerosene—that the students who resided in these dormitories must have taken pleasure in things outside material comforts. They must certainly have lived for books, art, friends and nature, interests that could carry them beyond this dingy cupboard. And one would be right. On that third Friday in January, a month 8 COPYRIGHTED: NOT FOR AUTHORIZED DISTRIBUTION before the school term was to begin, the ten friends in 531 were younger sister Tatiana would later attest, his bedroom walls at home engaged in last-minute packing for a trip, one that would take them were plastered with radio panels, homemade receivers, and a short- far away from the confines of college dormitory life, and far beyond wave radio that he would use to communicate with other radio en- their familiar surroundings. thusiasts, even though short wave radio transmissions were forbidden The room that early morning was filled with excitement, each in the Soviet Union during the Fifties Cold War era. But even if had member of the group busy in their designated task and each talking been permitted, Igor could not have packed a radio for their trip— over the other in an eagerness to be heard. radios of the time were over 100lbs and cumbersome and bringing We’ve forgotten salt! them into the Russian wilderness was unthinkable. Igor! Where are you? Born into a large family of rural farmers in Pervoralsk, at an early Where’s Doroshenko, why does not he take 20 packages? age Igor showed an exceptional technical knowledge in engineering Will we play mandolin on the train? and was adept at mastering whatever he set his mind to. Photography, for instance, not only became a hobby for him, but also a means of Where are the scales? getting work published in his teenage years. Damn, it does not fit in! He was under the influence of his older brother, Slava, who was Who has the knife? two years ahead of Igor at UPI. Right out of the gates, Igor found One of the men stuffed a backpack full of food, trying to find the most himself surrounded by storied Russian adventurers like Anatoly frugal configuration for multiple bags of oats and cans of meat. Nearby, Grigoryev, and Volodya and Valya Poloyanovs, who unofficially his friend cataloged medicines. Another searched desperately for mentored Dyatlov. mislaid footwear. “Thanks to Igor, we had a handmade radio receiver on our hiking Where are my leather boots? trips,” Volodya remembers. “His technical knowledge was encyclo- On this chilly morning, the group’s leader, Igor Dyatlov, was pedic. On these early trips, as a teenager, Igor was testing tents and overseeing with somber concentration the final preparatory steps of personal equipment in the severe conditions prevalent in the Urals. their expedition. The way Igor moved and spoke suggested the easy They were trying to perfect working in cold night conditions for future command he took over any situation. But this morning, Igor would groundbreaking trips. If Igor’s young life hadn’t ended so soon, he not be completely at ease. If the group were to forget something, they would have become a minister in the government for sure. Igor had wouldn’t be able to stop and pick up extra supplies in the middle of indisputable authority. Leaders are never assigned—they become the Ural Mountains. And no one wants to be the one responsible for leaders by themselves.” forgetting to pack something crucial. The ten of them must be pre- — pared like the Grade II hikers they were, because if this trip went as Nearby, scribbling in her diary, sat one of the two women in the planned, Igor’s group would be awarded a hiking grade of III. It was room—Zinaida Kolmogorova. To her friends in the room, “Zina” was the highest hiking certification, one that would allow them to teach regarded as lively and bright, always ready with an amusing remark others their craft as Master of Sport. or engaging story, and never afraid to speak her mind. But at that Igor was lean and strong, with a head of closely cropped hair. His moment she was silent. Having been appointed the diarist of the mouth was passionate, almost feminine, and his eyes wide set. He group, she felt obliged to record the last moments of preparation for possessed an artistic heart and a finely tuned, scientific mind. As his 9 10 COPYRIGHTED: NOT FOR AUTHORIZED DISTRIBUTION 12 11 COPYRIGHTED: NOT FOR AUTHORIZED DISTRIBUTION the collective records. Her finely sculpted face and full, brown eyes The eight men and two women, stooped under the weight of their were tilted away from the rest of the group, intent on capturing the packs, and in a nervous bundle of excitement, left Room 531 and departing mood. The room is in artistic disorder... Although she was descended the four flights of stairs to enter the January cold. They focused only on the movement of her pen, everyone in 531 was keenly needed to take a train out of Sverdlovsk, but first they had to rush for aware of her presence—at least, the men were. Zina was the type of the tram that would take them to the train station, [#] of miles from woman who drew male attention wherever she went. Even if the men the Ural Polytechnic Institute. [#] minutes later, when the tram in a given room appeared to be busying themselves with other activi- arrived at the Sverdlovsk train station, the friends quickly realized ties, one could bet that the corners of their minds were occupied they had not allowed themselves much time before the train’s depar- withthoughts of Zina. She had a tom-boyish, assertive personality, ture. And as they made an awkward dash for the station doors, there unafraid of the consequences of speaking her mind. was no time for nostalgic goodbyes to the [name of town square] or And then there was Lyuba, who stood out partly because she was to cast one last farewell glance over their gray, sooty town. the only blonde, and the only other woman in the group. She was a Once inside the train, the ten companions immediately shed the serious young woman, a quality evident in her assigned duty that stress of the morning, as well as their heavy coats and scarves. The morning: counting the money and rolling it tightly into a waterproof exposed pipes running along the length of the train cars made train can. Lyuba was outspoken and straightforward, and one could always travel unspeakably hot in the winter, and shedding one’s outerwear count on her friendship and unwavering sense of right and wrong. She was as much a ritual as finding a seat. The friends fell onto the benches had a strong, defiant face, and if a red kerchief had been tied round her with sighs and laughter, and as the train pulled out of the station, head, one might have imagined she’d stepped off a 1940s Soviet public- their very best selves emerged. ity poster. In fact, there was a name for such girls in the USSR—“the When Sverdlovsk had barely receded behind them, Georgiy Kri- girl in a red kerchief with a gun.” vonischenko, or “Georgy,” produced his mandolin. Georgy was the Yuri Yudin—one of the group’s three Yuris—busied himself with group’s resident clown, and one of the most musical, and the friends packing various types of medicine. When Yudin smiled, his pronounced knew that the appearance of his mandolin meant hours and hours of set of teeth erupted form his mouth, and his face became the image of singing. One of the favorite songs of the group was called Globe. Yudin ease and good humor. But having suffered lifelong problems with later remembers that they were “singing to the angles above”. rheumatism, a heart condition, and chronic knee and back pain, Yudin Hours later, after entire songbooks had been sung and new mel- was also the least likely member of the group. He had previously been odies thoroughly memorized, Zina pulled out her diary and scribbled forced to take a year off of university due to illness, but hiking had her final thoughts for the day. brought his health back. He sometimes wondered if he was fit for such I wonder what awaits us in this hike? Will anything new happen? strenuous trips, and given his continuing struggles with his health, his Oh yes, the boys have given a solemn oath not to smoke through the role as the keeper of the medicine was certainly fitting. But despite his whole trip. I wonder how strong their willpower is, will they manage struggle with illness, Yudin’s enthusiasm was as evident that day as without cigarettes? We are going to sleep, and Urals woods loom those of his friends, and his presence that morning was just as valued.