InternationalVahe Aghabegians and friends climb Armenia's holy mountain
Published: Thursday December 09, 2010
Aghabegians, third from right, with fellow climbers. Courtesy photo
Climbers, including Raffi Niziblian on left, raise their arms at Ararat summit. Courtesy photo
Glendale, Calif. - "All my life, I thought of Mount Ararat as sort of a mother figure with its kind, loving and gentle presence. As you climb this mountain, it proves to be unkind and more challenging with each step upward. Ararat makes you feel insignificant, yet majestic with each step you take to reach the summit."
The words belong to Vahe Aghabegians, an Iranian-born manufacturer by trade who divides his time between Yerevan and Glendale, once serving as advisor to the Foreign Minister of Armenia.
With the wind lashing at his face and the sun to his back, Aghabegians did what many people had dreamed yet so few accomplished. He scaled Mount Ararat last August with a team of other mountaineers, braving God's fury along the way and the rigmarole it took to get there.
The sight of a trio at the peak following their 16,854-foot ascent with arms hoisted in the air dressed for the North Pole sends shivers up your spine.
According to Aghabegians, they had just conquered what they called "the goddess of Armenian mountains." What was his incentive? A personal goal that turned into an obsession with age perhaps?
"I heard an inner voice calling," admitted the 59-year-old. "I had grown up with pictures of Ararat in my home, school and club. I lived in Yerevan for 12 years and saw it every day, thinking it was unreachable and not mine to have. With friends, we attempted to get a permit five years ago but were refused. When opportunity knocked, it was a no-brainer."
With practically no mountain-climbing experience other than his Boy Scout years, Aghabegians set foot upon a journey of a lifetime. Friends talked him into it. He had no intentions of going. They told him Ararat was Armenia's Everest and the idea festered.
His preparation and conditioning proved minimal: two weeks of swimming in his pool and repeatedly climbing a 1,000-foot hillside by his home in Glendale. Admittedly, he was neither prepared nor conditioned for such a venture.
Then scaled 4,500 feet of Mount Aragats (Republic of Armenia's tallest mountain). All was fine and confidence was restored. The thought of altitude sickness became a myth.
A travel agency in Istanbul handled the arrangements, however suspicious they were with Aghabegians and his crew.
"In the end, it was not clear if we received official clearance," he said. "I think local [Kurdish] guides just pay off the officials to look the other way. The whole process is by no means a well-oiled machine. Improvisations are necessary to make things work in different steps of the journey."
The cost of $750 covered two nights in Dogubayazid and three nights/four days on the mountain, horses to transport food, tents and other equipment.
"With the Armenian-Turkish border closed, we were forced to drive north to Georgia, then enter Turkey, pass through Kars before getting to Dogubayazid," Aghabegians said. "It's a solid 15-hour ride. Border-crossing formalities didn't make it any easier."
On the day of the climb, a mini-bus picked up nine hikers and drove to Ararat, disembarking at 7,200 feet. Included in the group was Raffi Niziblian, a one-time prominent AYF athlete from Canada who has since repatriated to Armenia.
A message Niziblian had posted to his wife Lara warned of tumultuous weather conditions on the mountain. It read, "Our spirits are high. Pray for us."
The first day they hiked five hours before setting camp. There waiting for them were camp tents all erected and a kitchen tent with warm food. The campground was nestled on boulders.
Day 2 proved a 6-hour climb, impeded by the lack of oxygen and breathlessness. On the third day, they waited for midnight to arrive before covering the remaining distance. Severe weather caused the group to retreat and wait the next day before making the ultimate approach.
Reaching the peak was like being on top of the world.
"Conditions were really severe with wind, sleet and cold raising havoc," Aghabegians described. "The thin air wears you down by the hour. It is not a technical climb but the higher you go, the steeper it gets. Three members started showing signs of altitude sickness during the day. One got hit real badly."
Heghinar Melkom Melkomian, Aghabedians' niece who also lives in Yerevan, followed the climb live via group's Facebook updates, and was also enamored by the experience.
"Even though Ararat is in the hands of the Turks, it still belongs to us," she confirmed. "Ararat is feminine, elegant and breathtakingly beautiful. I look upon her as a good luck charm and felt that beauty reflected upon the climbers."
There were no illusions about a fortuitous discovery of Noah's Ark along the way, though the subject crossed their mind and remained a topic of conversation.
"We met members of a team that was on the mountain, excavating and looking for signs," Aghabegians brought out. "There's a group that works up there full-time during the season."
A week before their climb, another team from Armenia had made a big fuss about their climb and raised a Tricolor on the peak which rubbed local officials the wrong way.
"As a precaution, we didn't take the Armenian flag with us, but three of us who made it to the top wore red, blue and orange overcoats," Aghabegians noted.
Although the descent was easier than the climb upward, it was by no means a piece of cake.
"Muscles you didn't know you had were being put to work and it hurt," he said. "Two weeks later, we were having coffee with fellow climbers and we all acknowledged that we'd like to do this again, perhaps next year."
In 1999, Aghabegians became an advisor to the Foreign Minister, busy preparing a visionary plan to increase economic standards, tourism, education and healthcare. He held that post through the 2008 Presidential elections. Thanks to funding from the Cafesjian Foundation, he was able to develop a program to revitalize 20 monuments throughout Armenia.
