For nearly two harrowing weeks, Natalia Nagovitsina lay stranded on one of the most unforgiving peaks in Central Asia—an immobile figure 7,300 metres above sea level, trapped in the icy grip of Victory Peak’s upper slopes, where temperatures plunge to -23°C and oxygen is scarce.
The 47-year-old Russian mountaineer, a veteran of the climbing world, had embarked on what was meant to be a triumphant expedition to Kyrgyzstan’s notorious Mount Pobeda, known more commonly as Victory Peak. Instead, the mission has ended in tragedy, after authorities confirmed that all attempts to rescue her have now been abandoned.
The last-ditch efforts, mounted by a coalition of Russian, Italian, and Kyrgyz emergency services, had been seen by many as her final hope. But after multiple helicopter flyovers failed to reach her, and one Italian climber died attempting to deliver aid, the rescue has been officially declared over.
A Climb That Turned Into a Catastrophe
Mount Pobeda is not for the faint-hearted. Towering at nearly 24,000 feet, it is one of the most formidable challenges in the Tien Shan range. The weather is unpredictable, and its summit—often battered by hurricane-force winds and sudden whiteouts—has taken more lives than it has given glory.
It was here that Nagovitsina suffered a catastrophic fall, reportedly breaking her leg while descending the upper ridge. With mobility all but lost and communications unstable at such altitude, she was left with no viable way to escape the mountain on her own.
Incredibly, she managed to survive the initial days of exposure with limited supplies. Drones sent up by rescue teams spotted her movement on August 19, and at one point captured footage of her waving from her makeshift shelter—an image that spread rapidly online and gave brief hope to her family, friends, and a watching world.
But while her will to survive endured, the mountain refused to show mercy.
The Dangerous Effort to Save Her
Within days of her injury, both state authorities and international rescue networks began mobilising to bring her down. Helicopters attempted multiple landings on narrow ridgelines, but unpredictable downdrafts and whiteout conditions made such operations virtually impossible.
One chopper reportedly crashed due to zero visibility. A second barely avoided a similar fate, forced to abandon its approach amid a snowstorm. Despite this, Kyrgyz authorities pushed forward with unmanned reconnaissance. Drones were launched to pinpoint her exact location, though their flight range and battery life made missions brief and sporadic.
It was then that Italian climber Luca Sinigaglia, renowned in alpine circles for his bold ascents and high-altitude resilience, volunteered to attempt a manual delivery of survival equipment. Carrying a sleeping bag, insulated food, and a small oxygen supply, he made the perilous journey alone, ascending into what meteorologists described as “death zone” conditions.
He reached Nagovitsina, offered her the life-saving gear, and then tried to descend—only to succumb to hypoxia and hypothermia. Sinigaglia’s body was later recovered by Kyrgyz rescue teams, who hailed him as a hero but acknowledged the futility of further manual attempts.
“He gave everything to help someone he’d never met,” said Dmitry Grekov, the head of the base camp. “That tells you the kind of man he was.”
A Rescue That Became a Race Against Nature
Over the following days, hopes began to dwindle as a series of rescue windows failed to open. Winds atop Mount Pobeda can reach speeds of 100km/h and visibility can change from clear to blizzard in seconds. These conditions continued to cripple helicopter access, grounding one after another at staging posts along the range.
“It’s not a matter of will,” said Adil Chargynov, spokesperson for Kyrgyzstan’s Ministry of Emergency Situations. “We’ve had the equipment, the pilots, the volunteers—but the mountain has closed in. Nature dictates our limits.”
International experts were brought in, including a specialised Italian helicopter crew flying an Airbus H125, a light aircraft specifically chosen for its high-altitude capacity. Positioned at a staging area in the Inylchek Glacier basin, the crew waited patiently for a meteorological gap to make one final attempt.
That window never came.
On August 25, the Italian pilots packed up their equipment and began their journey back to Europe. The Airbus H125 was officially stood down and flown to its home base.
“The rescue mission on Mount Pobeda was officially brought to an end,” read a stark statement from a Russian mountaineering portal. “The Italian pilots have departed. Weather conditions remain poor.”
Dmitry Grekov added that it was now impossible to reach her given current meteorological data. “We know her location,” he said. “But the area is so exposed, with such unstable atmospheric pressure, that we cannot confirm if she is alive or not. It is very likely she has passed, but no one can say for certain.”
A Community in Mourning, a Mountaineering World in Reflection
The Russian climbing community has been left reeling by the events on Pobeda. Nagovitsina, though not a globally famous figure, was well-respected among mountaineers in the former Soviet republics. A seasoned alpinist, she had previously completed numerous climbs in the Caucasus and Central Asian ranges and was known for her quiet determination and technical precision.
“She wasn’t a thrill-seeker,” said her friend and fellow climber Dmitry Sinitsyn, who had trained with her in Elbrus. “She was meticulous. She studied every route. This climb was a long-time dream.”
Sinitsyn also confirmed that the footage showing her waving at the drone was indeed authentic, and likely recorded during a rare break in the cloud cover roughly five days after her fall.
“There was movement,” he said. “We all hoped that meant she had enough strength to survive another few days. But even the strongest human body has limits.”
Mountaineering bodies across Europe and Asia have issued statements of condolence, and many have highlighted the extraordinary risks involved in attempting high-altitude rescues. Pobeda, they note, is one of the most dangerous peaks in the world, not because of its technical grade, but because of its cruel weather patterns and isolation.
“Mount Everest might be taller,” said Sinitsyn, “but Victory Peak is far less forgiving. It’s remote. It’s brutal. And there’s no infrastructure up there to support long-term rescue efforts.”
The Painful Final Decision
The decision to halt the rescue was not made lightly. Kyrgyz authorities, in coordination with Russian diplomatic channels, consulted with mountain rescue analysts, aviation experts, and meteorologists before drawing the final line under the mission.
A spokesperson from the SOTA Telegram channel said the original plan had been to send up another drone followed by the Airbus if movement was detected. However, worsening atmospheric data and an avalanche warning issued on August 24 made the plan untenable.
“We were waiting for a break,” said one anonymous rescuer. “We never got one.”
Russian officials have now confirmed that the body will likely remain on Mount Pobeda until spring 2026. Only then, when snow recedes and the winds calm, will a recovery mission be feasible—if the location remains accessible.
In a public statement, Kyrgyz rescue officials said: “We extend our deepest sympathies to the friends, family, and fellow climbers of Natalia Nagovitsina. Every effort was made. But nature has claimed its toll.”
Italian rescue groups have also paid tribute to Sinigaglia, whose selfless actions may have prolonged Nagovitsina’s life by a matter of days.
“He knew the risk,” said a colleague from the Italian Alpine Club. “He went anyway. That is the highest honour a climber can give.”
No Closure, Only Silence
The most tragic element of this story, perhaps, is the ambiguity that now surrounds Nagovitsina’s fate. With no recovered body and no confirmed death, her name joins the long list of mountaineers lost to the heights—where absence is the only confirmation.
Her family has not issued any formal statement since the rescue was called off. It is understood they were consulted throughout and made aware of each attempt, each failed flight, each fading signal.
“The most painful thing is the silence,” one relative reportedly said.
It is a silence echoed on the summit of Victory Peak, where the wind howls uninterrupted, and a lone figure may still lie hidden beneath snow and rock.
For now, Natalia Nagovitsina remains where she fell—somewhere above 23,000 feet, in the death zone, alone on the mountain that gave her life its highest purpose and, in the end, its final stillness.