All news: 2 November 2012

On the night of November 2, the team "Alpari on top of the world" has gone from Domodedovo airport inAustraliato climb the continent's highest peakMountKosciuszko. The mood was festive, because everyone continued to celebrate the anniversary (65 years) of Ivan Dusharin. And we jokingly remarked that one of the gifts was a birthdays "trip for three" inAustralia...

Our congratulations !

Ivan Dusharin. His official sporting status is master of sports of international class, “snow leopard”. He has been climbing mountains since 1964; 19 times summited 7,000m peaks of former USSR, also conquered Mont Blanc (1985), Aconcagua (1991, 2012), Everest (1992, 2005, 2012), McKinley (1995, 2012), Changabeng (1998), Nanga Parbat (1997), Cho Oyu (2002). While being younger Dusharin served in air-landed force, has a large number of parachute jumps. He is an engineer-designer by profession. Long time Ivan Dusharin was the head of the robot design bureau at AvtoVAZ plant. Now he lives inMoscowand work as a vice-president of the Russian Mountaineering Federation.

Ivan Dusharin

http://www.ageofhappiness.com/blog/ivan_dusharin_eng/234/

Sixty-five year-old Ivan is a mountain climber. Ivan Dusharin has decided to vanquish all of the tallest peaks in the world within one year. Over the past six months, Dusharin has already surmounted Kilimanjaro, Everest and Aconcagua. And during the next half year, he intends to climb another four of the world’s peaks. The idea is to climb to the highest points in each of the seven continents. At the end of May, Ivan descended from Everest and on the next day, following the photo shoot for The Age of Happiness project, he took off to triumph over McKinley, the highest point inNorth America.

No one inEuropehas ever climbed seven peaks in one year. For world mountain climbing, this is a significant project, considering that Dusharin and two colleagues on his team, Lyudmila Korobeshko and Maksim Shakirov, are deliberately avoiding the classical routes and choosing complicated paths for the climb.

That climb on Everest was Ivan Dusharin’s third. It took 59 days. «The temperature this time was good,» says Dusharin, only −45 c." And he recalls that the time before, he was less lucky. Then it was −54 c." True, this time the «good» temperature bestowed upon him lightly frostbitten fingers, as he had to take off his gloves in order to take pictures at the peak.

When Dusharin was 50, he climbed Changabang, the Indian peak, in such a way that no one had ever managed to do it previously—on the sheer face. The climb up the vertical wall lasted 16 days without a break, spending the nights on the face, as well, three of them hanging in a tiny piece of stretched tarpaulin.

How can you stand it? Ivan avers that the secret lies in relaxing. When you are able to relax your body properly, you can manage to rest even if you are hanging by one hand. Dusharin eagerly demonstrates how, exactly.

During hard climbs of many days, Ivan loses a lot of weight. On his last Everest ascent, he lost nearly 10 kilos. «Ordinary athletes have a body build,» he jokes. «But we mountain climbers have a body demolition.»

Dusharin’s method of weight loss is, of course, one of the most effective, but is also inhumanly arduous. Actually, with regard to mountain climbing, Ivan himself doesn’t value the ability to demonstrate physical endurance as much as the need to contemplate and make a decision. «This is a genuinely intellectual sport,» he says. «You have to think a lot.»

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Ivan’s Early Years

I was born in 1947 in Pokhvistnevo, a small town in the south ofRussiawhose name was borrowed from the nearbyvillageofOld Pokhvistnevo. As a child, I was interested in the origins of the name of my hometown. As it turned out, Lieutenant Pokhvistnev served under one ofRussia’s most celebrated military heroes, Field Marshal Mikhail Kutuzov. For his bravery and valor during the French invasion ofRussiain 1812, Pokhvistnev was awarded an estate in the Simbirkskiy province. The estate no longer remains, but the lieutenant’s name lives on as the name of two towns.

Life after WWII, especially outside of the big city, was difficult and humbling. Just getting hold of a loaf of bread meant standing in huge lines. The horror of fighting over bread crumbs is something that will be forever ingrained in my memory. I was probably 6 years old when I was trampled in a bread line. I was holding onto my mother as we slowly moved into the store. I remember the legs and feet around me, the bodies, the stuffy air, the cries I heard as we scrambled to get our share of bread. I was getting squeezed harder and harder, then darkness… I woke up, lying in the snow. Some woman wiped snow off of my face. “Thank God! He’s awake,” she said to me as she stood me on my feet. “Stand and wait for your mother,” said my savior as she disappeared into the crowd. I sat down in the snow. I could not stand. Everything hurt. It was difficult to breathe. I stared at the crowd of people squeezing into the store, not understanding what was going on and what had just happened to me. I don’t remember how much time had passed by the time my mother emerged from the crowd, her hair undone, her shawl in her hands, her face bright red. She looked horrible, yet satisfied. She was holding two small loaves of dark bread to her chest. She ran to me and said, “Thank God! And they gave you bread too. They took pity seeing how close you made it to the counter.” She wasn’t as interested as I was? I was alive and moving, so everything was okay to her. What about me losing consciousness? I guess I was not the only one. That was a pretty common thing in the bread line.

My mother fixed her clothing and we headed home. I still felt terrible, but I remained silent, trailing behind my mother. I was indifferent to the world around me, but I could see my mother was happy. We managed to bring home 2 loaves of bread for the family. Just knowing that I helped was enough to bring me back to full strength. This was how I spent my childhood: fighting for bread crumbs, gathering sorrels to make pies, picking berries and mushrooms, collecting hay for the goat. The children of the post-war period lived through difficult conditions, but the struggle to survive made us tougher. We grew up to be unpretentious, adaptable and resilient. We didn’t think of ourselves as unlucky or as having been dealt a bad hand by Fate. School.. I remember my school days, being around people much like myself; friends and comrades. I remember true friendship, training to be a pinko communist, speaking with wise and caring people – my teachers. Many of them taught us not only their subject matter, but important life lessons as well. Thank you to all of them!

I studied at a mechanical engineering school in Samara. It was a different atmosphere, a different type of school. I found myself mixed in with teenagers from the big city, from more advantaged families. My peers from the countryside were looked down on as outsiders, like people with a lower social status. The boys and girls who weren’t from Samara quickly began to understand how things worked and started to band together. In life, like attracts like. We were dressed more modestly. We ate poorly. We wouldn’t allow ourselves extra. We didn’t quite feel at home in the big city. But our persistence, our sense of fairness, our hard work and physical conditioning forced them to respect us and consider our opinion. In our studies, especially in practical subjects, we quickly overtook our fellow students from the big city. It was during this time, a period of self-affirmation and soul-searching, that I discovered parachuting, and more importantly, I was introduced to the mountains.

In January of 1964, I had my first taste of mountain climbing. By 1967, I was already enrolled in a school for future mountain climbing instructors. The mountains are a truly remarkable part of nature, a place where the bonds of friendship are formed. They are a place for personal struggle and maturation, where you learn about the world, yourself and everything that surrounds you. Everything was unusual, but it was amazing. I found myself surrounded by great people. Some of my teachers were: Svetopar and Kamille Koroleva, Vitaliy Abalakov, Vladimir Kizel, Yakov Arkin, Grigoriy Maslov, Ilya Martinov and many other terrific people, who helped us appreciate the beauty and the grandeur of the mountains. These were people of the highest intellect, who looked to share their personal knowledge and experience with us, who taught us to see and to love beauty, nature and life. Mountain climbing during that time, and with those people, was a world-class learning ground and I was fortunate to be a part of it. It had a powerful impact on my life.

Serving in the army is a special period in life, one that every man remembers. I was fortunate. My time in the army was difficult, but interesting as well. I served as a paratrooper in the Baltics, starting out in a heavy paratrooper equipment battalion. My technical education and my physical training came in handy. I graduated from my training unit with honors. Unexpectedly, I was sent to courses to become a Komsomolskiy paratrooper instructor. I had a lot of work, but it was interesting. The knowledge and skills I picked up from mountain climbing lessons came in handy. It was not a fool that said, “Never stop learning. Anything you learn might turn out to be useful.” After 11 months of service, I was made first sergeant, the highest possible rank for compulsory service. With some difficulty, I managed to get out of the army, although my commanding officers told me I should stay, that I had a great career ahead of me. But the mountains were calling me. In May of 1970, I returned to Samara, found some work, and left for the mountains. I came back from the mountains just in time to register for night classes. Life suddenly became more rigorous: work, school, sports.

Источник: http://www.alpari-life.ru/en/ivan_dusharin/

Ivan Dusharin