When I was 11 I’ve decided to be a mountaineer. This was caused by well known that time French film “Death of a Guide”. Even my hard intension to be a pilot was beaten in minute, despite the fact that I watched soviet movie “Crew” (a film about feat of pilots) much more times than “Death of a Guide”. Behind the window of our tiny flat, with the great Sokol (falcon) mount) wings raised Putorana plateau.

I skied in the nearest gorges and it helped me to feel much closer to my mountaineering dream. I found heaps of files in refuse bin and felt the real climber when forced icy slopes of hills. But just the next time something really awful happened to me… We moved to the most flattest place in the world - West Siberian Plain. I was totally broken down. Time by time my dark side started prevailing over my dream that was fading away swiftly. I drink away my hockey equipment in great secret from my parents. There was time I was really ready to join usual society life and got ready for Marine Academy when my first meeting with Everest happened.

Due to usual soviet goods manager we met in small bookstore, situated at Feodosia sea-front. Just ME and HIM in the form of “Everest-82” first edition (a book about first soviet expedition to The Everest). The book was extremely expensive – 10 rubles (for example teachers’ salary was about 100 rubles per month, engineers’ about 140 rubles per month) and surely my mother didn’t agree to buy it. But since that time I couldn’t pass by; I was so eloquent and convincing so a last she bought it. My poor mother! If she just know how many sleepless nights will cause this minute weakness. But anyway it was too late to change something we met! HE put the blame for loosing the dream on me. Of course! How could I fall under placatory influence of Siberian Rivers! Since this time my life obeys to Kok-Suu rules only which is known as careless freedom-loving river of Jungar Alatau, that easily stole tractor with geologists.

Rule is rule. I was going to enter the Plehanovsky institute where I would become an economist, but I turned to the institute where worked one of the mountaineers who climbed Everest first in Soviet Union. With sinking heart I watched team training; I was trying to catch as many experts’ secrets as I could. The first step: if you compare my growing skills in mountaineering and my future profession you would be amazed. As more I got a mountaineer as less I got an engineer. The next step: since this time I write “Mountains” with capital letter only, because I’m not sure it is possible to write about the GREAT with lowercase letters. I changed my religion from Orthodox to Mountaincreed. When I had some doubts I just opened the book and seek advice from HIM. Saying the truth had not so much doubts I needed just work a lot and head to my real meet with Everest.

My second meeting with the Everest happened 10 years later, that were years of hopes and disappointment. There were first routes of 6th category of difficulty, first seventhousenders; bitter smack of maverick life and lack of future trends. This meet I think was the most striking. It was just in the center of the “Time of great changes”. I think my destiny noticed my doubts again and faced us up. That was a typical shop of timber industry enterprise, where you could find anti alcohol book and drink some of the harmful liquid just the next department. When I saw HIM I couldn’t believe it’s true. “The Crystal Horizon” by Reinhold Messner among the scattering of useless books, it was more than incredible. I asked the price carefully and froze; any stupid romance novel costs more! Yeahh, those time when people valued adventure sink into oblivion. I met the other Everest; this one was much closer to my dreams. I found the other way, which filled me with new ideas and purport. So now ONE MAN, NO IS A MAN! This is great! I rushed to discover new unknown space in the Mountains. It was completely different. Exertion, risk, joy of new aim progress and it was absolutely new level, level of perfect unity.

Then there was a fleeting meet. From afar, through the wet haze of the Himalaya, I watched my idol and understood that I don’t want to approach to HIM. Straight that time I realized: there was no way to meet my dream with light baggage, walking along the path with can of beer and leaving the porters behind to reach the utmost cognation with Mount element, NO to get all this I will have to cross the threshold of blind fear, unbelief and unlimited tiredness. I don’t know whether my destiny will give me such chance, it is up to her; whether I am going to torment myself with endless trainings without any assurance of success it is up to me.
So this is our life and fight. We putting spokes out of our wheel, moving from place to place in hope of taking part in “great” expedition, finding some sudden friends and sudden enemies as well.

The space between us is an eternal incentive in getting the Great Aim of my life. You would never believe but I am even glad that HE keeps me at arm's length; it means that my final altitude is still ahead. This means that my “heart path” hasn’t become my “vanity path” yet; so I don’t think ahead and continue my “Brownian motion” in the vast expanses of life universe in search of my Everest.