Спасение в горах. Альпинистка сломала ногу. Как удалось избежать трагедии.

In short: we conducted a rescue operation on the North Chuisky Ridge in the Altai Mountains. We brought down a female climber from the summit with a very complex leg fracture. Subscribe to the channel ✅, like 👍. That's it. For those who are ready to read more detailed posts, I suggest immersing yourself in the context, learning the causes, consequences, and drawing conclusions. Mountain rescue. This phrase is familiar to every climber. We are trained to provide assistance, starting from the basic training stage in alpine camps. First aid and transporting the victim: how many times have we practiced these actions in training? And how much of this can we apply in practice? And most importantly, how much do training and real rescue operations have in common? 1. How did it all begin? On November 7, 2025, the mountaineering training and sports department attempted to climb Kyzyltash Peak (3,486 m, North Chuisky Range, Altai Republic) along a combined route rated 3b. While approaching the summit, along a challenging section of vertical rock, one of the participants fell and suffered a compound leg fracture (comminuted fracture of both tibias). The team, under the guidance of an instructor, began rescuing the victim on their own. They reported the incident to the base via radio. They administered pain relief and stabilized the broken leg. They began the descent along the easiest route. It should be noted that the easiest descent is far from easy, despite its 1b difficulty rating. The route runs along a challenging ridge, with snow blades and rock guards. 2. How did the rescue team work? On November 7, 2025, at approximately 9:00 PM, the Aktru alpine camp received a report of an incident on the route. It took us about 30 minutes to organize the deployment of an advanced search and rescue team. The team consisted of nine climbers with two or three sporting ranks. These were not professional rescuers or employees of the Ministry of Emergency Situations. Advanced teams are usually formed from participants in training camps who volunteer to rescue their comrades in distress. The rescue team's subsequent actions are presented in the video report; please review it. I want to point out here that the training rescues we've repeatedly practiced are radically different from a real situation. First of all, there's the added stress factor. Difficult mountain terrain, darkness, cold, wind, and an injured person who could actually die if the rescuers handled the situation incorrectly. People who performed brilliantly during training exercises become paralyzed in reality, overcome by fatigue, cold, and stress. They freeze standing in one place, unable to help transport the injured, and risk becoming an additional burden. Secondly, during training exercises, people have everything: tons of gear, improvised means, bandages, etc. In real life, people have nothing. Sleeping pads, sleeping bags, stoves, elastic bandages, tape, additional climbing gear—many climbers consider all this unnecessary baggage. After all, unforeseen situations along the route may never occur. So why carry unnecessary baggage? Many try not to think about what to do if things don't go according to plan. Thirdly, training exercises are often conducted in ideal conditions, at reliable belay stations, during daylight hours, with fresh energy. In the real world, the only available insurance is often a snow crest. The victim has to be lowered into the darkness, uncertain whether there's room for another anchor. 3. How did it all end? In short, as always, we rescued the victim ourselves. The insurance company tried to disown its client. The Ministry of Emergency Situations did not participate in the rescue. An air ambulance was not dispatched, citing weather conditions. Only through the titanic efforts of many people, endless phone calls, negotiations, and a network of connections, was it possible to organize an evacuation by private helicopter from an altitude of 2,800 meters. The injured climber was taken to a hospital in the village of Tyungur, where she was diagnosed with a broken leg (as if that wasn't already clear), and told to make her own way to Barnaul for surgery there. Ultimately, the girl's father arranged the transport, and her climbing friends helped find a doctor willing to perform the surgery. Olga is now safe and recovering. She has metal pins in her leg, and her mind is filled with thoughts of new mountains.