A hike is like a bathhouse - everyone is equal
Some people enjoy running, others enjoy rowing. For Sergey and Evgeniya Titorenko from Azov, rafting down mountain rivers is both a way of life and a source of income.
If you've never been on a catamaran on a mountain river, you're missing out. It's cold, wet, tiring, and sometimes painful—and incredibly rewarding.
At first, I thought I'd just go rafting down some tame river and that would be it. It wasn't enough: the first river was followed by a second, slightly scarier one, and then a third... Then came the realization that this addiction wouldn't be easy to break.
You might ask: what could have driven a respectable, middle-aged woman, who had never held an oar before, to join a group of other crazy people and set out to storm the rapids on the Teberda River? Well, science still doesn't really know, and I certainly don't.
But I watched as another respectable woman, amidst a raging torrent, enthusiastically shouted to the entire Caucasus what a fool she was ("Fool...," the echo echoed in agreement) to have lived to her advanced age and never before been a mountain river rafting enthusiastically. I watched as respectable businesspeople abandoned their businesses and families for a week or two with the sole purpose of getting bruised on the rapids, freezing like puppies, developing excruciating muscle pain, and then, in the evening, at the campsite—after changing into dry clothes and drinking something strong—they could rightfully say, "What a blast!"
On behalf of NeMoskva, I spoke with the culprits behind this—Sergey and Evgeniya Titorenko, founders of the Azov tourist club Stary Pilot. A master of sports in water sports tourism with over 25 years of experience as an instructor, Evgenia has been the inspiration, organizer, and participant of trips since 1997.
— How do you attract people to rafting?
"There are different groups of people who go rafting. If we're talking about simple canoeing on the Don, it's a great family vacation. You can take small children, and you don't have to worry about spending the night in a tent, let alone more challenging hiking experiences."
A slightly more challenging hike A week-long rafting trip down the Khoper River. It includes overnight camping and cooking over a campfire. Children are involved in pitching the tents and starting the fire. And the fishermen catch fish—that's a whole other story, satisfying their hunting instincts. It's total relaxation, a recharge, and a small challenge, a test of your athletic abilities. And the people involved are a little different.
Rafting on catamarans completely takes people out of their comfort zone. Office workers and businesspeople constantly working to deadlines need just such a jolt. Besides the adrenaline rush, rafting constantly puts you in situations where you have to solve problems on the fly: obstacles, waves, rocks... And it's a great way to recharge and clear your head: after rafting, people return to their daily activities with renewed energy, and they come up with new ideas. We didn't make this up—they told us so. Some even say: the more difficult the rafting, the worse the weather. all the better.
And there are those who say directly: “Seryoga, we’re going on a hike with you to eat what you cook!”
...Early in the morning, you wake up to the sounds of activity. It's Sergey lighting a fire. You should get up and help, but... The morning is damp and cold, and your sleeping bag is warm. Besides, the rafting organizers are responsible for your meals, so no one will drag you out of your tent. So, you have to eat breakfast with a guilty conscience.
But everyone can participate in making the borscht (and if you're lucky, the fish soup, too): it's not a labor obligation, but a way to achieve zen. Because it's in nature, unhurried, and with the right people.
It's like in a sauna: everyone is equal. A factory worker, for example, or a bank owner—in this way, the inequalities are smoothed out. People from all walks of life can communicate freely. And so it is with many of our participants. We can't even call them clients anymore—we're developing friendships. These people have become family and close friends; you can always talk to them around the fire about anything—that's valuable, too. We correspond with them, we've gotten to know each other, we know each other's worth, and they already know where they're going and why. As for newcomers, they come to meet and experience something new.
…There’s a threshold ahead, and Sergei warns: “You’ll work like Belgian horses.”
As we've already learned, the Belgian horse is an exceptionally diligent and hard-working animal (perhaps mythical). Our beloved captain constantly holds it up to us as an example, in the vain hope that we too will one day achieve the same perfection.
And we work because only a clinical idiot would shirk when passing a rapid: you can capsize, that is, turn upside down, or you can sit on a rock and then wait for someone to be kind enough to lift you off it...
For a few minutes, all you can hear is the roar of the water and the captain shouting at the top of his lungs, "Bow to the left! Bow to the right! Quickly to the right!" Then the catamaran slips onto the relatively smooth surface of the water.
We made it. It felt like a glass of champagne.
Sergei started rafting as a student, about forty years ago. He fondly recalls the "wine-and-tangerine" autumn Georgian rafting trips: how from either the right or left bank of the Kura, they would shout, "Moor!"—pour wine and treat us to fruit and cheese.
Another hike in Western Ukraine was very memorable. It was Easter, and we arrived in the Carpathians to find snow and a crust of ice along the banks of the White Cheremosh River. We paddled for 15 minutes, and spent the same amount of time stretching our knees. We spent the night in tents in the snow. And what a joy it was when some people from a neighboring village showed up, brought a bottle of pepper vodka, and offered to let us spend the night! When everything is smooth, there's nothing much to remember, but extreme hikes like these are unforgettable.
When Sergey worked as an instructor at the Rostov tourist club "Planeta," Zhenya was studying at the Rostov Architectural Institute and attended the mountain tourism section at the same "Planeta."
We were passing by his office, and he called out to us: "Girls, let's go hiking." We went. Then I went to study with him in the water sports section — and he turned out to be unmarried!
And then they won a competition together: they rowed 30 kilometers from Starocherkassk to Rostov, overtaking three dozen competitors and finishing victorious. They say they "rode on the wings of love."
The family, which soon had two children, needed to be fed, and the salary of a hiking club instructor was ill-suited. And commuting from Azov, where they had moved, was a strain. So Sergey decided to set out on his own: he gradually began acquiring equipment—catamarans, kayaks, wetsuits, hydroboots, and a host of other essentials.
At first, word of mouth and posting flyers around universities were the only advertising method. Then social media came along, and Zhenya took charge. First, the organizational hassle, and then the rest:
"Gradually, I realized I wasn't interested in sitting on the bench: interesting rafting trips were happening, but they wouldn't take me because I'd be taking someone else's place. And for some time now, I've become indispensable: I'm now a pilot and can steer a catamaran!"
During the May holidays, Sergey and Evgeniya, as usual, opened the season.
"We were pleasantly surprised: at Bolshoy Zelenchuk, we saw a veritable parade of water sports enthusiasts: the latest equipment, the water was bright and colorful, and there was a line at the rapids! There were groups from Murmansk, Nizhny Novgorod, St. Petersburg, and Moscow. So, people are going rafting, water tourism is growing in the country—and that's encouraging.".
For us, it's not just a way of life, it's also a way of life. For example, last year, on May 1st, 2nd, and 3rd, we had three groups—we paddled 16 kilometers each day, which is quite a bit. People ask us: how do you cope? Well, some people like to run, and we like to paddle. We simply enjoy the movement, the connection with the elements, the water. We're happy people, basically.
Photo: Personal archive of Sergey and Evgenia Titorenko and "NeMoskva"