Krasnaya Polyana, Caucasus Mountains, Russia

"You're doing what?"

That seemed to be a fairly standard reaction from people when you tell them that you're going heliboarding in Russia. Other typical responses were: "Is it safe?", "What's heliboarding?", "Is that where you jump out with your board on?", and "Awesome!"

I went with a couple of friends, Iain and Champ, and we booked it through McNab Mountain Sports. We were to fly to Moscow, then down to Adler on the coast of the Black Sea. From there, it would be a short transfer into the Caucasus Mountains and the area known as Krasnaya Polyana. Our Russian contacts were the very organised Vertikalny Mir.

Dropped off at the airport, we haul our luggage inside for weighing.

Everybody met up at Moscow's Sheremetyevo (SVO) airport for the flight down to Adler, and the usual introductions were made. Of course, being a bunch of snowboarders travelling to a fairly remote part of the world, we all had extra stuff in our bags, just in case. This meant excess baggage, over which Aeroflot were pretty strict about. We each had to pay up for everything over 20kgs, but to be fair the price was very reasonable. The rest of the process was straight forward, and we jumped on an ancient Tupelov, which was actually more comfortable than BA's airbus that I caught out from London.

Some people think you need to wrap your bag in cellophane to protect it from baggage handlers. You pay someone about UKP4/USD6/EU5 to do it. However, we had no problems in our group.

Oh, it's a good idea to make sure that you have a ticket for a flight you intend to take. One group member, Tom, thought that these were being organised for us, yet no-one else did. Luckily for him there was availability, and as it turn out, he ended up paying a fair bit less than the rest of us.

By mid afternoon, we were pulling up outside the Hotel Deja Vu, and were welcomed with bread and a vodka shot. The staff and chef were there to greet us and made us all feel very welcome, like we were guests in their home rather than hotel. Both bread and vodka were fantastic and hit the spot of spots. In the evening we met both of the Russian guides, Nickolay and Vitaly, and the forecast was 50-50 as to whether or not we would be flying the next day.

A spread of food and drink to welcome us.

Day 1

It was a nice sunny day in the mountains, but apparently Adler was cloud covered and the heli didn't have permission to fly. So we headed off to the "resort" and caught the chair lifts to the top. The chairs are old and non-detachable, which means that they are also slow. You jump on one chair, get so far and then have to get off, walk 20 metres and queue to get on the next one. This process repeats 4 or 5 times until you get to the top, some 1500 to 2000m later. The whole thing took around an hour, and we immediately lost 3 who got off at the penultimate stop which was one of those places where you can get off if required, but otherwise keep your feet up and carry on. The 3 that got off were following an orange jacket, which turned out not to be the guide.

From the top we dropped off into a bowl and then into the trees. The snow was in pretty good shape although it was tracked out, and some of the bits had a reasonable level of steepness. I think we dropped down 2 "stations" before getting back on for another run down the opposite side, which was just as good.

Unfortunately for me, I was suffering with a cold and the morning's runs had taken their toll. With the possibility of flying that afternoon I decided to conserve my energy and sit the next run out. Tom, who had problems with one of his feet, did the same thing. Unluckier still, the restaurant that we stopped at was full, and we ended up waiting outside for the others to re-appear. About 40 minutes later we heard the helicopter come in, and caught our first glimpse of our monster transport.

Not long after, we were crowded together with the heli doing it's air thundering "Apocalypse Now" routine as it flared in for the landing. The front wheel kisses the snow, the back wheels hover on the horizontal plane and steps are thrown down for us to climb. The beast easily swallowed all 14 of us with room to spare, and away we went. We had 3 runs that afternoon, which were mostly bowls with wide couloir entrances. The powder was excellent even though it was only 15-20cm deep, it was as fresh as the day it had fallen. Normally I don't bother dropping my bindings back to cope with the powder, but I needed to after the first run. As first days go, it doesn't get much better than that.

Our transport for the week.

Our flight back to base included another group as well. We had a little room to move but not much. As we got out, someone counted - there were 33 people in the heli, not including the pilots!

Day 2

Awoke to a day of cloud everywhere, but the news was that permission was granted to 1500m, and would soon be lifted as the clouds were expected to do so. We had 5 drops in total in what seemed like a non-stop charge on the powder. We had a short rest midway through as we waited for a pick up, and on board we crammed in a lunch of hard bread with cheese and salami, plus water and chocolate. A heavenly lunch. Also, if you're in Russia and are offered the local black bread, take it - it's delicious. Caviar, I'm not bothered about, but the bread was excellent.

Although it was cloudy, it didn't really detract from the visibility we had, and it was easy enough to scope out our lines. That said, the light was not perfect, so care was needed to avoid hitting a solid lump of avalanche debris that might be lurking under the surface. Again the snow was in excellent condition and we had everything from steeps, through couloirs, ridges and amazing tree runs. It was on this day in the afternoon, that we had a heli-drop where we didn't need to jump 1.5m out of the heli to the ground below. It was a gentle stepping out. I got out and went over to the huddle and Champ pointed back at the heli. I looked to see that we were on a ledge barely big enough to hold us, and the heli was simply hovering there perfectly still next to the ledge as the 14 of us alighted. Impressive flying.

Neil McNab styles through the powder.

Day 3

I had a night of feverish sweats, aches and pains and the morning was a long time in coming. I think I got an hour or two of sleep, and despite the agonizingly beautiful clear blue sky, I wasn't fit to go riding. It would have been dangerous for me or worse, for the others. So after breakfast I wrote a note in Russian to let the cleaner know I was sleeping, and went back to bed. The Lonely Planet Russian phrase book I had rocked.

By all accounts it was an amazing day, with 6 drops in great snow and superb sunny conditions. Although everyone said that the last part of the last run was a nightmare with sticky snow making the riding very difficult and nearly everyone fell over. Still, that didn't stop people (Champ) coming out with "the best day's riding... ever". Others were more diplomatic.

Day 4

One of our group was a paramedic and in keeping with other medical professionals I've met, had a bag of goodies for all eventualities. After popping a few nighttime liquid capsules from Nyquil I had a fantastic 9 hours of sleep and was fighting fit for a full on days riding. Even better - the sun was still blazing.

I decided to take my 181cm Prior swallow tail out for a play and it was the business. The board has a big sidecut radius and is very stiff, so when you hit the fall line, it likes to stay there and gobble up the vert. Only 1 of our 7 runs was a little disappointing, but that's relative to the rest of them. In context it was still good. The others simply varied between excellent and amazing.

Ralf swoops in with rooster tails in check.

Me riding the big gun. Pic by Iain Duncumb.

On one run we came to the top of a slope with shrub and well spaced trees. At the sides were tighter trees forming forests on both sides. At the bottom was a flat spot which marked our pick up point. As we came into site of the pick up point most of us saw a bear running across from one part of the forest to the other, over the clearing. What a sight! The run itself was incredible with great big billows of snow to bounce around in. The gladed section also had huge sections of snow and we just bounced from one to another, charging through the trees and eating up the powder. We had run out of superlatives.

Day 5

Cloudy and windy today, but we were still able to take off. The first drop off was interesting, and we were getting hammered by the wind. The snow was still pretty reasonable on the top section, but it wasn't long before we hit crust. We had a long wait for the pick up, because the other group that were using the heli had decided to go back due to the weather. As far as we were concerned though, if the pilot was happy to fly, we'd fly.

Coming in for our second drop I was looking out the porthole, when I saw the earth move side ways, heard the revs pick up and watched the ground disappear. I guess it was an aborted drop, as we climbed higher onto a ledge where the heli could actually put all 3 wheels down for once. He circled around, dumped us off and dropped off the mountain to shelter. The run was again good at the top and crusty further down, but there were still nice bits to be had, and I was still having a blast. Unfortunately at the bottom the guides informed us we would have to go back because of the weather. Talk soon started about hitting the bar for an afternoon of food and vodka.

Iain takes the outside line for some fantastic untracked.

Champ dropping in to the tree run.

However, those observing closely would have noticed out the port hole that rather than going back to base, we went past it and up the other side of the range. These slopes, only 2 days before, had reports of crappy snow, but we dropped off the first section which was a fantastic "steep and deep" section. We soon got into the trees and had one of the best tree runs I've ever had. Lower down though the snow started to get sticky to the point that you could stop mid flow even though you were pointing down the fall line. Aggressive riding was called for to muscle the board and ourselves around. And after all that, we did it all again for another run, although it wasn't at the same place, and the snow wasn't quite as good. By 13:30, the weather was worsening and we'd used up our pre-paid flying time. It was time to call it a day, and we piled off to the bar.

Day 6

Our only day of bad weather. It was raining up to 2000m apparently, and with the snow experienced yesterday, there was no rush for the slow chair lifts. It was decided to call it a week, and head down to the summer resort of Sochi for a bit of Russian culture. We had a nice guide called Anya who showed us some of the sights of Sochi and translated for us in the markets and amusement arcade. Most of the guys decided to battle it out on the bumper cars, although only 5 were allowed on at the same time.

In the evening we went to a restaurant that served traditional Georgian cuisine which was superb. Among us we got though a disturbing 11 bottles of red wine, 8 or 9 bottles of vodka and numerous ad-hoc beers. The music ranged from some traditional stuff which was danced to by the locals, to some techo that was danced to (rather badly) by us. I showed the Russians my spider-on-acid dancing technique, which I'm convinced will be the next big thing in Sochi, and won't be long before it hits Moscow.

A traditional Russian building in Sochi.

Return journey

At 6am we were supposed to be on the bus. At 05:55 my room mate Ian woke me up to remind me. A frantic dressing and bag packing ensued and I stumbled into the lobby to check out of the Park Hotel, and leave Sochi. We got to Adler airport, which is little more than a hut and checked in. Even so, you can't fault the Russian security which was tight despite the small location. Two hours later in Moscow's SVO airport, Mark took a couple of pictures and was promptly reported by a fellow passenger to an airport official, who told airport security, who told the police, who checked the camera out and made him delete the photos he'd just taken. Some old habits are hard to break I guess.

The BA flight back to London was quite reasonable, and for once I actually had leg room. We did the usual nonsense of circling around London for 20 minutes before being cleared to land, and then waited 40 minutes for the bags to clear. 4 hours of driving later, I walked in my front door. Total time door to door: 22 hours.

Round up

There is no doubt that we were very lucky with the weather and the snow, things could have been so different. The type of riding we were allowed to do, and the flying from the pilots just doesn't happen in other well known heliboarding locations, and I would thoroughly recommend the place. Like anywhere though, it's the weather and conditions that make or break the trip (along with the people.) If you ever go, then I hope you get to be as fortunate.

Asides from the officials, who are the same the world over, the locals were warm and friendly even if you do have to cut through the hard exterior. The old regime meant that people had their public face and their private face, and again old habits are hard to break. The younger generation are certainly less different from us Westerners, which may or may not be a good thing. It's the cultural differences in the world that make travelling and meeting other people such a fantastic thing.

Thanks to the group: Alice, Alistair, Brucie (Ian), Champ, Dave, David, Iain, Neil, Mark, Pete, Ralf, Tom, Trevor and me; Shelagh at McNab Mountain Sports; plus Nickolay, Vitaly and the pilots at Vertikalny Mir.

It was an amazing week.

Want to watch a video?