Dead Mountain: The Untold True Story of the Dyatlov Pass Incident (12 page)

At two o’clock that afternoon, the bus arrived in Vizhay, a sizable woodcutting settlement complete with a school, hospital, shops and even a community center that screened movies. The town had been built on the backs of Gulag prisoners and free workmen of the area, both of whom would be sent out into the forests by day and return to their respective camps at night. Because the prison camps were kept strictly separate from the town, none of the hikers saw any prisoners during their stay in Vizhay, but, as detailed in Blinov’s diary on the day of their arrival, they did see members of the free workers’ camps: “On that day, a meeting of young Communist party members from all work camps was held and was coming to an end when we arrived. After the meeting, young Communists were transported to their camps.”

Happily for Blinov’s party, they happened to meet a group of these workers who were driving back to their encampment, Sector 105, for the night, the exact direction in which Blinov and his friends were headed. The Dyatlov group, for their part, wouldn’t be able to hitch a ride to their next destination until the following morning. They would have to spend the night in Vizhay.

The two groups enjoyed their remaining time together by getting a late lunch at a local cafeteria, one frequented by the area’s woodcutters. There, according to Kolevatov’s journal, they
enjoyed a final meal “in a warm, friendly circle.” The Vizhay cafeteria wasn’t quite warm enough to inspire the shedding of outerwear, but it did provide the students a homey atmosphere and hot food. The travelers gathered at several tables near the windows, and between servings of bread and stew, they spread out maps, journals and last-minute projects on the plaid tablecloths. Zina, who was already anticipating foul weather ahead, got to work with a needle and thread making
bahily
, boot covers made out of a weather-resistant tarpaulin.

Zinaida “Zina” Kolmogorova at the group’s Vizhay accommodations, January 26, 1959.

Later, the Dyatlov and Blinov groups assembled for a final photograph before parting ways. Then Blinov and his party climbed into the truck with the Sector 105 workers and waved farewell to their classmates, confident they would see them back at school the following month. But it was there, Yuri Blinov later wrote, that “we saw Dyatlov’s group for the last time.”

The Dyatlov hikers in Vizhay cafeteria: Alexander Kolevatov (far left under mirror), Yuri “Georgy” Krivonishchenko (right of mirror), Igor Dyatlov (back against wall) and Nikolay “Kolya” Thibault-Brignoles (back against window), January 26, 1959.

The Dyatlov hikers gather with their friends to say good-bye for the last time, January 26, 1959.

The Dyatlov hikers’ tent one day after it was found. Vladislav Karelin (left) and Yuri Koptelov (right). The search team’s activities in and around the tent, combined with recent snowfall, have caused the canvas to collapse. February 27, 1959.

10

FEBRUARY 1959

THERE ARE NO BODIES IN THE TENT. FOR BORIS SLOBTSOV
and Mikhail Sharavin this means that there is a chance their schoolmates are still alive, perhaps holed up in a cave or shelter somewhere. The careful arrangement of items in the tent, including food ready for consumption, contributes to a sense of normalcy and give the pair further cause for optimism. If it were not for the partially collapsed tarpaulin, they might have supposed Igor and his friends were there only moments before.

The two men step outside of the tent to consider their next move. As they scan the surrounding landscape, snow begins to fall, and they realize it is probably too late to search the area. Before heading back to camp, they gather items that may prove useful to the search party: a jacket, a camera, the medicinal alcohol, a pair of skis, Igor’s Chinese torch and the ice ax.

When the men reach camp, they find that the chief radio operator, Igor Nevolin, has since arrived with the rest of his group. Now that they can communicate via radio, Slobtsov has a radiogram sent off to investigators in Ivdel breaking the news of their discovery. The message reveals the location of the tent—on the eastern slope, at a height of 1,079 meters—and explains that further investigation has been suspended due to an approaching snowstorm. A reply comes from Ivdel that same night, requesting
that a helicopter landing and campsite for roughly fifty people be arranged nearby. There are also strict orders that the items in the tent remain untouched. It is, of course, too late for that.

Radiogram operator Igor Nevolin. Radiograms were the search teams’ only connection to Ivdel. The device’s misplaced battery was later found in a 2009 expedition. Second from left, Boris Slobtsov, third from left, Mikhail Sharavin, February 1959.

Word of the tent quickly spreads among the search groups, and the next day, multiple search teams arrive on the eastern slope to begin a more intensive search. Besides Slobtsov’s and Nevolin’s teams, there is a group headed by the Dyatlov group’s hiking adviser, Yevgeny Maslennikov, and an Ivdel penitentiary unit led by a Captain Chernyshev. There are also Mansi volunteers, Sverdlovsk outdoorsmen and UPI students.

The newly arrived teams began examining the area in and around the tent in a way that Mikhail Sharavin later described as “chaotic”—a job, he says, that in hindsight should have been left to experienced investigators. But the lead prosecutor on the case, Vasily Tempalov, has not yet arrived, and the searchers see no point in wasting time with procedural formalities. In their eagerness to find the hikers alive, searchers pick over the tent and its contents for clues. Policemen with search dogs come, led by Lieutenant Nikolay Moiseyev.

View from the Dyatlov tent site. Photo taken by the rescue team, February 28, 1959.

Drawing from Yevgeny Maslennikov’s diary included in the criminal case files: “Position of hollow and azimuth directions to landmarks (height 1023, brook and outlier rock at the pass) from Dyatlov tent.”

Unfortunately, there are no discernible tracks in the surrounding snow for the dog teams to follow. This is presumably due to the slope’s incline and the wind having swept away any traces of footsteps. But if there had been evidence of the hikers’ prints, the teams of men now swarming the tent have certainly obliterated them. Farther down the slope, however, where the land levels out, one of the teams picks up impressions in the hardened snowpack. About 20 yards away from the tent there are multiple sets of footprints that have remained preserved. Some of the prints are large. Others are smaller and less distinct, as if the person who left them had not been wearing shoes. The investigators count nine sets of prints, extending for nearly half a mile toward the river valley. The tracks are split into two parallel paths, continuing toward the valley before merging again. The searchers follow this footpath until they hit a patch of freshly fallen snow, at which point the prints disappear. But the searchers continue on, hoping to pick up the trail again.