Season 08 Episode 33: After the Sun Comes Rain (Pt.1 of 2)

sold out. Head to Crimewave at Sea dot com forward slash Unexplained to grab your fan coat and lock in your cabin. We'd love to see you on board. Please note this episode contains graphic descriptions of gore printal discretion, as advised. The rafters floated steadily down the fast flowing waters of the Sneeshnaya River, reveling in the serenity of

the vast wilderness around them. Towering above to the north, under a boundless cerulean sky, were the gentle slopes of Deep Siberias Kama Daban Mountains, their tops dusted with pristine snow. It was mid August nineteen ninety three, and they'd come from Kiev for an adventurous, weak long trip of camping, rafting and hiking. What they hadn't reckoned on was the rain.

For days it had refused to let up. However, though the waters were faster and higher than expected, their inflatable catamarans were more than up to the task, and as they set out that day, a pale morning sun had finally burned off the cloud and the cyclone that had unexpectedly torn through the region had all but vanished. They paddled slowly, letting the river do the work, talking and

laughing among themselves as sunlight danced on the water. On both sides, Vast tiger forests stretched up into the hills. The tops of the countless birch, pine and larch swayed silently under the sound of the river's rushing water. There was not a soul around. As they paddled around a tight bend in the river, one of the rafters caught sight of something unexpected at the tree line. A bear, perhaps, he thought, as his mind worked feverishly to calibrate the

unexpected object. Or was it simply paradolia, a trick of the light He blinked hard and squinted as they drifted past it, and then the shape finally fixed in his brain. It was a teenage girl sitting alone on the river bank. Her hair was tangled and matted, and her clothes smeared with dirt. Having almost drifted past her completely, the girl suddenly stood up and began to wave frantically, screaming for help. In shock, the rafters hurriedly paddled over to her as

their catamarans crunched onto the rocks. One of the group instinctively held out her arms to the girl, who threw herself into them. She sank her head deep into the woman's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. The others crowded round, desperate to know what had happened and where she'd come from, but the girl was too inconsolable to speak. Spotting her large hiking pack on the shore, two of the group tied

up the boats and jumped out to retrieve it. As they bent down to pick it up, they stopped suddenly and felt a chill run up their spines. The pack was covered in dried blood. The men turned back to the girl. Is this your blood? They asked? Finally, She lifted her head and turned to face them, and then she began to murmur, over and over again. They're dead, she said, They're all dead. You're listening to Unexplained, and I'm Richard McLean Smith. There are few regions of the

world as large and as largely misunderstood as Siberia. Despite encompassing more than eight million square miles, it remains a place often overlooked, practically forgotten by the Western world. It can be a struggle to even define Siberia geographically Asian, yet culturally far more complex, incorporating influences from Asia and Europe, including ancient Arctic and Scandinavian. Its political borders have shifted

through the century. Today, the widely recognized boundaries are the Ural Mountains in the west and the Pacific Ocean to the east. To the north, Siberia fragments into the bitter Arctic wastes. In between lies barren tundra and brutal mountains, a sea of inhospitable wilderness surrounding islands of hardy human habitation,

and of those inhabitants, those outside know fairly little. The average Westerner, for example, has only the vaguest concept of Siberia's history, which reaches back at least forty thousand years across almost ten percent of the world's land surface. In such vast ancient places, is it any wonder that mysteries abound. We have covered our own share of Siberian mysteries in

previous episodes of Unexplained. Earlier this season in episode eighteen, The Hardest Hue To Hold, which told the story of the strange black sarcophagus from the supposed Teesul princess found inside. Back in season two, episode four, when the snow melts, we recounted the so called d'atlov Pass incident of nineteen fifty nine, when nine young Soviet hikers died in uncanny

circumstances on the slopes of the Ural Mountains. That particular incident is perhaps Siberia's most famous puzzle, with all of the necessary ingredients to endure tragic death, cold war paranoia, a hint of the other worldly, and the sinister undercurrent

of more earthly machinations, it is, simply put a great story. However, the Urals are far from the only mountains in Siberia, and the d'atlov Pass incident was not the only time that something went extremely inexplicably wrong up in the high cold. The Kamar D'aban Mountain range is a snow capped wall in southeastern Siberia. Situated in the remote and rugged republic of Buriatia, The range runs from two hundred and sixty

miles from the southern tip of Lake Baikal. These are some of the oldest mountains on the planet, a series of smooth domed peaks staring down like the weathered brows of judges. The highest of them, Mount krn Ula, rises to nearly eight thousand feet, while almost all are well over six thousand. At their base, the valley floor is covered in tiger forest, a dense carpet of conifer, cedar

and rhododendron. They form a dark contrast to the mountains themselves, which are never free of snow, even at the height of summer. It's a beautiful, if foreboding backdrop for the tourists who come to soak in the bathhouses and hot springs, but for those of a boulder inclination, the Khamar Daban trails beckon like waving fingers. On August second, nineteen ninety three, seven adventurers arrived in the tiny settlement of Marino on the south bank of Lake Baikan, the last embarkation point

before entering the Kamar Daban. They were all part of the Asimut Hiking Club in Petra Pavel, a city in northern Kazakhstan close to the Russian border. Like a number of other hikers arriving in the region that day, they were there as part of Kazakhstan's to Riada Festival, a national sports and tourism event. At the head of the team was experienced and highly skilled outdoor survivalist forty one

year old lead Miller Corovina. Tall and striking, her curled blonde hair and accompanying bow of ribbons, was seemingly at odds with a life of isolated adventure. As a recipient of a Master of Sport, a certificate acquired from the exacting Ministry of Sport and signed off by three internationally renowned experts, her pedigree was beyond question. She was idolized by all the aspiring outdoors people that she met. The six other adventurers on the trip were all under her tutelage.

Twenty three year old Alexander Kreesin was her second in command. Studying at Bauman Moscow State Technical University, the mit of Russia, he was a prestigious student. He fell in love with mountaineering at the age of twelve and quickly came under Ludmiller's wing, who in turn developed a deep bond with the young man. She called him Sasha with mother affection. That August, Alexander finished his final exams, then raced immediately

to the mountains to join his teacher. Alexander was physically the strongest of the group and also looked up to by the others, but one year older Tatiana Pilipenko was the next most experienced. She worked as a secretary at a teaching college back in Petro Pavel and had completed numerous tracks with Lyudmiller. Nineteen year old Denis Schwatchkin was lucky to be there. He'd only been drafted in at the last minute when a fellow hiker was refused permission

from his parents to join the trek. Fortunately for Dennis, his parents were away at the time, and being slightly older, he didn't need their permission. Unable to contact them, he left a message instead before heading out the door. It read simply, I went to the mountains. I'll be back soon. Then there was seventeen year old Valanina Utuchenko, known as

Valia to her friends and Timor Bapenoff. Though the baby of the group at only fifteen years old, Timur had packed many hours of trekking into his short life thanks to his keen sporting parents. Lastly, there was sixteen year old Victoria Salasova. Lud Miller had been hesitant about including her in the group. Once on a winter hike, Victoria became fatigued and broke down. In lud Miller's own words, she began acting up and struggle to make it back

to base camp. But Victoria was desperate to go and desperate to prove herself to Ludmiller too. After an impassioned phone call from the girl's parents, lut Miller reluctantly agreed to let her join. Lyud Miller and her team began their preparations six months in advance. Being the leader, it was Ludmiller's responsibility to compile the maps. Having trecked the area numerous times before, she diligently mapped out the route, marking out the precise location of where she expected the

team to be every hour. She also drew up a rations plan, guaranteeing each member that required twenty four hundred kilo calories per day, that be hot food and snacks between meals composed of stewed meat, vegetables, cereals, dry milk, as well as candy and chocolate. Being an experienced forager, she also had the skills to locate food on the

mountain should they need it. When it came to the physical training, Lute Miller was known for her tough love, demanding much of her students but also endowing them with the skills and confidence required for such inhospitable terrain. And respected her, But they loved her too. They called her Master, and she in turn cared about them deeply. Also taking part in the Turiada Festival that year was Lude Miller's

sixteen year old daughter Natalia. Despite her age, Natalia was already a hugely proficient mountaineer, a testament to her mother's ability to teach and train. Lud Miller also reassured herself that should anything go wrong with Natalia's hike, she would be on hand to offer rescue. They make a plan to rendezvous three days later at the midpoint of each other's trek on August fifth. On the morning of August second,

lud Miller and the others make their final preparations. By then, Natalia's group are already underway, taking a more moderate route through the mountains. Lud Miller's group have set themselves a more serious challenge. They plan to cover over seventy miles and make several ascents, including summiting Mount han Ula, the highest peak located at roughly seventy five hundred feet above

sea level. From there they will descend toward the city of Shlutyanka, their finish line, located about eighty miles further up the lake shore. It's a long, difficult horseshoe route that quickly takes you out of the relatively low lying Tiger forest and into the rugged barren trails and perilously

exposed snowy ridge lines above. Thanks to Ludmilla, the team are well prepared, though the weather looks to be on their side too when they step off the train that August morning under a bright sun and clear Siberian skies, and with that, after a few last checks, the team headed up into the mountains. The first few days are a sink as the team make quick work of the proposed route, scrambling eagerly up through the forest, their vast

backpacks bobbying up and down behind them. They eat four times a day, gathering firewood from the forest and forage mushrooms and berries as they go. By August fourth, as they head up the steep slopes of Retranslator Mountain, they are comfortably ahead of Ludmiller's taxing schedule. Happy, full of energy, and well fed, they are having the time of their lives. They chat excitedly about surprising Ludmiller's daughter Natalia's group by

arriving at the rendezvous point first. But then in an instant, everything changes. It was sometime into the third day when the team, now trekking through the barren upper reaches of the mountain beyond the tree line, feel the first drops of rain. They had watched with no little concern as a thick barrier of cloud steadily crept in from the south, but since the forecast had been good, they fully expected it to gradually inch away. Only it didn't, and the

rain got heavier. Then gusty winds began to whip at the short tufts of grass, and that too steadily intensified. Before long the temperature had plummeted and the rain turned first to slush and then snow. Despite being equipped for all types of weather, the speed at which it turned caught them all unawares. With nowhere to shelter, Their bags and clothing quickly became soaked, and soon the bitter cold

was seeping into their skin. Leud Miller looked hurriedly about her and back to the map was threatening to flap completely out of her hands. The tree line was some distance below them, and though she knew of a shelter located at the mountain peak, in the chaos of the incoming storm, she struggled to pinpoint its precise location on the map. Striking out for it in this weather without knowing exactly where it was would be risky at best.

She decided instead that they should shelter on sight, and so on the wide exposed slope, about seven and a half thousand feet high, in a shallow bowl between two peaks, the group hurriedly made camp. With the utmost faith in their master. The team quickly succeeded in pitching two tents, with three getting inside one and four clambering into the other All are relieved to be out of the elements and huddle together for warmth, but as night descends, the

storm intensifies further. It's around four a m. When several of the tents skylines snap. An hour later, increasingly vicious winds tear the stakes from the ground, allowing the torrential rain to pour in through the limp canvas, completely soaking the hikers. The soft dawn light of August fifth brings a momentary reprieve from the otherwise relentless downpour. With numb and trembling fingers, the team finally succeeds in lighting a fire. They huddle around it and are soon greedily gulping down

hot mugs of tea and porridge. With their bodies sufficiently warmed yud Miller gives the order for the team to gather their sodden belongings and pack up the tents. Stepping outside, they find the mountain completely covered in a thick layer of fresh snow. Their boots crunch into it as they swiftly pull up the remaining pegs and gather up the canvas, keen to get moving before the rain returns. The group as soon packed up and continuing on their way up

the mountain. Though the rain has stopped, the conditions are still treacherous. For a start, the fierce winds have not let up. With such large packs on their backs, the young mountaineers have buffeted about by violent gusts, their boots struggle for grip on the newly slick ground. At the front of the group is seventeen year old Valentina Utuchenko. Like her colleagues, she was tired and groggy after the

night of broken sleep, and still stiff with cold. The weight of her soggy pack seemed to increase with every step, but she was determined not to let it get her down and forced herself to set a brisk pace. At the very least, she knew that the faster they moved, the quicker they'd warm up. Then from out of the whistling wind, came a bone chilling, harrowing scream, turning as one the group watched dumb found it as Alexander Kryson fell suddenly to his knees, assuming he'd twisted his ankle.

Those closest to him raised to his side, then froze suddenly at the sight of his face From her advantage point at the front of the group, Valentina asked a squint against the blinding white of the freshly fallen snow to get a fix on Alexander's face. It was contorted in terror and blood was pouring from his mouth. Valentina couldn't make sense of what she was seeing. The only explanation she could think of as she made her way over to help was that a fight must have broken

out and somebody had hit Alexander in the face. But as she neared her compatriot, she saw with abject horror that not only had no one touched him, but blunt was also pouring from his eyes and ears. The group watch helplessly as Alexander lets out another piercing scream. Then his body began to writhe and convulse, blood foaming at its mouth like a rabbit dog, as his eyes rolled

back into their sockets. Seconds later, he pitched forward heavily and collapsed face first into the snow, his body still writhing. A horrified lurd Miller rushed to her protege's aid. Grabbing his arms, she tried to pull his face off the ground and lift him to his feet, but then his body went limp, and the convulsions ended as abruptly as they had begun. Ut Miller lets him sink to the ground and desperately felt for a pulse, but his heart has stopped. In sadness and shock, lud Miller began to

weep utterly, bereath at the unfathomable turn of events. She let out a terrible, agonized scream, shocking the rest of the group with her uncharacteristic display of raw emotion. The boy was like a son to her. They seem to stand like that for eternity, frozen in time, out there alone in a barren, snowy wasteland, miles from civilization. Finally, lud Miller gathers herself, suddenly fixed with her usual clarity, She wipes the tears from her eyes and tells the

others they have to try and focus. There's nothing they can do for Alexander. Now they must get to safety. She tells them to descend as fast as they can. It takes a moment for it all to filter through, but eventually the group collect themselves and start to move. They've made it only a few more feet when another scream pierces the air. It's lud Miller again, but this time she isn't crying for Alexander. The others turned back to see lud Miller clawing at her face as blood

runs from her mouth. It's all over her fingers too. They can't tell if it's coming from her ears and eyes, or if she's ripped her fingers to shreds with her teeth. Lud Miller screamed again, then collapsed on top of Alexander. Her body writhed and convulsed for a moment, then just like that, it stopped and her body was still Twenty four year old Tatiana Filipenko sprinted over to the fallen

pair and kneeled down beside them. As the oldest of the remaining hikers, Tatiana was the de facto leader in Ludmller's absence. As she reached Ludmilla, Valentina shouted to her through the wind, asking if lud Miller was dead too. A fallorn Tatiana looked up and was just about to reply when a strange look came over her. She clutched at her throat and started to splutter. She gasped for air, but seemed incapable of taking a breath, as if the

very air around them was making her choke. Then blood ran from her eyes and ears and frothed up in her mouth. She collapsed to the ground, screaming and utter agony. Somehow she pulled herself to her feet, Then, half stumbling, half crawling, she dragged herself across the ground to a

nearby rock. The others screamed in horror as Tatiana proceeded to pull back her head and slam it into the rock over and over again, until with one final smash, a sickening crack was heard, and Tatiana collapsed, blood pouring from the self inflicted head wound. In a mail stream of horror and confusion, the four remaining students scattered in

a blind panic. The two youngest members of the group, sixteen year old Victoria Zealousova and fifteen year old Timor Bapanoff, sprinted down the mountain as fast as they could, seemingly with the sense that something invisible in the air was pursuing them, but they didn't get far. Before they'd even made it three hundred feet, the two young teens began to convulse in mid stride as blood ran from every

orifice in their face. They clawed at their throats and began tearing off their clothes as if they were overheating, but they are too weak to get a firm grip on the material. After both vomiting a final bout of blood, they collapsed dead in the snow, half undressed and caked in their own gore. Nineteen year old Dennis has made

it as far as a nearby rock. With his mind seemingly gone, he pulled his sleeping bag from his backpack and cowered inside it, pulling it tightly over his head so as not to see anymore, like a young child hiding beneath the covers from a nightmare. Meanwhile, seventeen year old Valentina simply stands, paralyzed by the shock of everything she has just witnessed, as rainfalls and the wind howls

all around her. After some time, Dennis emerged from his hiding place to find Valentina still rooted to the spot. He grabbed her by the shoulders and yelled at her to yet moving. When she didn't respond, he kicked her in the leg, and finally she snapped out of it. Soon the pair were on the move once again, stumbling back down the mountain, both numb from the cold and the terror of it all. But then Dennis stopped suddenly. No, no, no, said Valentina at the pained look on the young man's face.

Then the blood started to trickle from his mouth. Valentina can only watch in helpless desperation as he clutched at his throat and collapsed to the ground, writhing in incalculable pain. Seconds later it was over, Dennis too was dead, and Valentina was all alone on the mountain. You've been listening to Unexplained, Season eight, episode thirty three, After the Sun Come Part one, The second and final part, will be released next Friday, July fourth. This episode was written by

Emma Dibden, Neil McRobert and Richard McLain Smith. Thank you as ever for listening Unexplained as an Avy Club Productions podcast created by Richard McLain Smith. All other elements of the podcast, including the music, are also produced by me Richard McClain smith. Unexplained. The book and audiobook is now available to buy worldwide. You can purchase from Amazon, Barnes

and Noble, Waterstones and other bookstores. Please subscribe to and rate the show wherever you get your podcasts and feel free to get in touch with any thoughts or ideas regarding the stories you've heard on the show. Perhaps you have an explanation or a story of your own you'd like to share. You can find out more at Unexplained podcast dot com and reaches online through X and Blue Sky but Explained Pod and Facebook at Facebook dot com, forward Slash Unexplained Podcast