221: The Dyatlov Pass Incident | Russia

  You are listening to: The Evidence Locker. Thank you for tuning in to our podcast. We’re able to bring you new episodes thanks to the support of our sponsors – please check them out, as they offer some exclusive deals just for you, our listeners. If you prefer an ad-free experience, you can find us on Patreon, with plans starting at just $2 a month. Plus, 25% of all Patreon proceeds go directly to The Doe Network, helping to bring closure to international cold cases. For more details, check the link in our show notes. Our episodes cover true crimes involving real people, and some content may be graphic in nature. Listener discretion is advised. We produce each episode with the utmost respect for the victims, their families, and loved ones. Soviet Russia, 1959. Nine experienced hikers set off into the Ural Mountains for what should have been an invigorating yet dangerous trek. But something went terribly wrong. The hikers fled their tent into freezing conditions—half-dressed, without shoes, and into near-certain death. Their bodies were later found scattered across the mountainside, some with injuries so severe that investigators likened them to the trauma of a high-speed car crash. What frightened them so much it caused them to flee? What happened that fateful night in February 1959, at the Dyatlov Pass? Was it a natural disaster, a military experiment, or something more terrifying? In January 1959, ten hikers from the Ural Polytechnical Institute’s Explorer’s Club set out on what was supposed to be the adventure of a lifetime. The group, led by 23-year-old Igor Dyatlov were skilled and experienced in mountaineering and skiing, well-prepared for the harsh conditions of the Siberian wilderness. Their goal was to reach Otorten, a mountain in the northern Urals. To get there, they would need to traverse a pass through Mount Kholat-Syakhl, a mountain whose name in the local Mansi language ominously translates to “Death Mountain.” Despite the ominous name, Igor Dyatlov and his team were confident they could complete the journey. Group leader, Igor Dyatlov, was an engineering student – intelligent and known for his leadership skills. He was an experienced and passionate mountaineer, which made him the obvious leader for the expedition. 22-year-old Zinaida Kolmogorova (or Zina) was an energetic radio engineering student. This adventure was certainly not her first mountain expedition and she was very capable. Zina was warm and caring and valued everyone on the trek, as they were all close friends. There have been rumours that there was a romantic relationship between her and Igor, seeing as her picture was later found in his pocket. This was most likely a crush from Igor’s side, however, as it was common knowledge in the group that Zina and Yuri Doroshenko had been together. 21-year-old Yuri, also a radio engineering student, once won a stand-off with a bear during a trek and became somewhat of a legend after the incident. He dated Zina for a while, but by all accounts, they were no longer together at the time of the January 1959 expedition. Lyudmila Dubinina (or Lyuda) was a 20-year-old economics student. She was a keen mountaineer who had earned her stripes during a previous expedition. A stray bullet from a hunter hit her in the leg, and despite excruciating pain she insisted on completing the hike with her group. Lyuda, possibly the more reserved of the two women in the group, handled some of the administrative tasks, such as managing the group’s finances, and appeared to take on a nurturing, motherly role within the group. Every group needs a jester, and for the Dyatlov expedition, this was 23-year-old construction hydraulics engineer, Yuri Krivonischenko. He was quick with a joke and loved pranks, and Lyuda wrote of an incident at a train station where they had some time to kill, waiting for their connecting train. Yuri wanted to go to the café, but Lyuda, who kept the money for the trip felt it was not in their budget. Undeterred, Yuri broke into song, and held his hat out to other travellers, in an attempt to raise money. When a police officer silenced him and took him away, everyone in the group followed, pleading with the officer to let him go. This incident paints the picture of a group of friends that were close and who had each other’s backs, as standing up to Soviet militsya officers was not the done thing. Alexander ‘Sasha’ Kolevatov, a 24-year-old nuclear physicist, was a loner who preferred to keep to himself. In many on the photos of the Dyatlov trek, he can be seen standing to the side, somewhat lost in thought. 23-year-old Rustem Slobodin was a freshly graduated mechanical engineer. He was by far the most athletic member of the group and was in top shape. Nikolai Thibeaux-Brignolle, 23, was lovingly called Thibeaux by all his friends. He was a civil engineering student with French ancestry and a notable sense of adventure. Although considered one of the more serious and mature personalities of the group, Thibeaux was easy to get along with and everyone who met him, liked him. The eldest one in the group was 38-year-old Semyon Zolotaryov. Semyon was a World War II veteran and a guide who had joined the group of students at the last minute. Working as an outdoors instructor for local government, he was required to complete a hike like this one as part of his work certification. With all his experience of outdoor survival, he was an asset to the group. Photos show him very much a part of his younger companions’ group, laughing together and posing for photos. One additional member, 21-year-old Yuri Yudin was a sweet, kind-hearted guy who was close to Zina and Lyuda. His calming influence on the excitable group of students was well noted, and everyone loved him. Igor, Zina, Yuri D, Lyuda, Sasha, Yuri the joker, Thibeaux, Rustem, Semyon and Yuri Yudin left from the town of Ivdal on January 25, in high spirits. From diary entries we gather that it was a busy day of gathering supplies and making last-minute preparations. They rushed around all day and arrived at the railway station in the nick of time. On January 27th, 1959, the group set out to the mountains from the village of Vizhai [vee-zchay], the last inhabited settlement before entering the uncharted wilderness. They kept detailed diaries and took photographs, documenting their journey. Like this inscription, made on the train by Zina, now in hindsight, hauntingly foreboding: “We are on the verge of falling asleep and the Ural taiga spreads out in all directions. I wonder what awaits us on this trip.” For the first few days, things went as expected, with the group progressing smoothly toward their destination. After four days, they spent a night with Ural loggers at ‘Settlement 41,’ and continued on their trek the following day. A laborious hike in deep snow took them to their next resting place – an abandoned Gulag, a labour camp for prisoners – where they managed to find a log cabin to provide adequate shelter for the night. Their diaries showed no signs of trouble or concern, other than typical obstacles one would expect to encounter while mountaineering in Siberia at the height of winter. Sadly though, it was time to say goodbye to one of their friends. Gentle-soul, Yuri Yudin but was forced to turn back due to severe nerve pain in his leg. His decision to leave likely saved his life… And he would be haunted with unanswered questions about what happened to his friends for the rest of his life. Lyuda’s diary entry provides a colourful description of their first night in the tent: “After dinner, we gathered around the campfire, singing heartfelt songs that lasted long into the evening. Afterwards, we continued our conversations, mostly about love.” Along their track, the group was intrigued to learn more about the Mansi people. Thibeaux wrote in his diary that the group discussed the Mansi a lot, to the point that it became the theme of their trip. Commenting on Mansi symbols carved in tree trunks all along the trek, Thibeaux noted: “We are in a country of mysterious signs.” The hikers were determined to reach Otorten Mountain. The terrain they were about to tackle was not only difficult due to its ruggedness, but also because of its harsh weather. Temperatures could drop as low as -30°C (-22°F), and snowstorms were common. Yet, these were seasoned mountaineers who had faced similar conditions before. Combatting severe conditions was all part of the deal. On February 1st, they deviated from their planned route, turning west instead of heading north to the base of Otorten Mountain. It’s speculated that Igor made this decision to set up camp before nightfall and before the weather worsened. The place where they camped would later become infamous: the eastern slopes of Kholat Syakhl, Death Mountain. They pitched their tent on an exposed slope, rather than moving just a little further to a more sheltered area in the nearby forest. The reasons for this are unclear, though it’s speculated that Igor may have wanted to practice camping on an open slope or perhaps to avoid losing time. Maybe they were too exhausted to look for a better location. Yuri Yudin speculated: "Dyatlov probably did not want to lose the altitude they had gained.” Whatever the reason, this choice placed them in the path of what would soon become a disaster. Igor Dyatlov’s diary entry offers a glimpse of the general mood on their last night… “Today the weather is a bit worse with wind and snow. Until now we walked along a Mansi trail, which was crossed by a deer hunter not long ago. The hunter did not follow the beaten trail and we are now following in his steps. Walking is especially hard today, we can’t see the trail and have to advance slowly. Tired and exhausted we started the preparations for the night. We had supper in the warmth of the tent. it is hard to imagine such a comfort somewhere on the edge with a piercing wind, hundreds of kilometres away from human settlements.” The hikers were expected to return to Vizhai and send a telegram to the university no later than February 12th. When no communication was received, concern began to grow, but it wasn’t unusual for such expeditions to be delayed by a few days due to weather or other obstacles, so the initial concern was low. However, by February 20th, growing concern from the hikers' families prompted the Ural Polytechnical Institute to organise a search party, consisting of fellow students and volunteers. Members of the local Mansi tribe also joined the effort, offering their knowledge of the terrain. Soon, the Soviet military and police forces became involved, deploying helicopters and planes to search the vast and unforgiving wilderness. On February 26th, the first sign of the group was discovered: their tent. It was found on the eastern slope of Death Mountain. The tent was partially collapsed, covered in snow, and eerily silent. Upon closer inspection, rescuers noticed something strange. The hikers’ belongings were left behind, alarmingly their shoes and warm clothing. It was clear that whatever had driven them out of the tent had done so with such urgency that they hadn't taken the time to properly dress for the extreme cold. Yet, there was no sign of any of the hikers, they had seemingly vanished into thin air. About 15 metres from the tent were footprints, still visible in the snow. The footprints were made by people wearing only socks, or in some cases, completely barefoot. It looked like everyone had walked there side-by-side, then stood for a while before heading in different directions. The search party followed the clearest footprints, leading downhill towards the edge of the nearby forest, about a mile away. This led them to the ominous scene where the first bodies lay. Barefoot and lightly clothed, Yuri Doroshenko and Yuri Krivonischenko, were discovered near a cedar tree. Between them, a small fire had been started, but it seemed insufficient to combat the brutal cold. Nearby, the searchers found evidence that both men had climbed the tree, perhaps in an attempt to spot the tent or escape something. Broken branches were found as high as five meters up, and the palms of both men were covered in burns. Some investigators speculated they had grabbed burning branches in a desperate attempt to keep warm, though the true cause of the burns remains unknown. It was unclear why they did not attempt to make their way back to the tent. Nearby, searchers found expedition leader, Igor Dyatlov partially buried in the snow. Igor was lying on his back, like he had collapsed backwards, trying to make his way uphill toward the tent. His face showed signs of severe frostbite, and his cause of death was officially documented as hypothermia. A short distance away, also on her way back to the tent, was Zina. She lay on her side, frozen in time, her knees pulled up and her hands covering her face. Six days later, close to Zina’s body, was Rustem Slobodin. He was found in a position indicating he, too, had been trying to make his way back to the tent. Although Igor, Zina and Rustem had some clothing on, they were not wearing any shoes, hats or gloves. Rustem had a small crack in his skull, but it was determined that the injury was not enough to have killed him. He, too, had succumbed to hypothermia. Because Rustem was so athletic and physically strong, his father felt it hard to believe that he could not survive whatever peril they faced that night. The five bodies were flown by helicopter to Ivdal, where there autopsies took place – and it was concluded that they had all died due to hypothermia. They had cuts and bruises, mainly on their faces and necks and the backs of their hands. The pathologist felt that these were due to falling over. The fact that their faces were bruised, and their knuckles injured hints at the probability that there had been a physical altercation. Igor also had marks on his wrists and ankles, suggesting that he was tied up at some point. Yet, the report settles on the conclusion that the injuries were caused by falling on hard snow or fallen branches of nearby trees. It doesn’t sound right… It is significant to note that government officials attended the autopsies, keeping a watchful eye, which made investigators wonder about government involvement in the case. It also makes one wonder about some of the conclusions in the report. But the mystery deepened with the remaining four hikers still missing. With heavy snowfall, it seemed like a secret the landscape refused to yield. It took a gruelling two months before they found the harrowing scene. On the 4th of May they were finally found, buried under several meters of snow in a ravine about 80 metres from the fire site of the two Yuri’s, in the opposite direction from the tent. Unlike their companions, these bodies told a far more disturbing story. They had more clothing than the others, some of them wearing clothing that had belonged to Yuri D and Yuri K. Lyuda was wearing Yuri K’s burned an torn trousers, for instance. This suggested that the four had survived longer, scavenging the clothes of their dead companions to stave off the freezing temperatures. However, it wasn’t their clothing or their location that drew the most attention. It was their injuries. Thibeaux, Lyuda, Sasha, and Semyon had suffered severe trauma, unlike anything seen in the first five bodies. Thibeaux had a massive fracture in his skull, as though he had been struck with extreme force – this was what had caused his death. It was ruled unlikely that he injured his head from a fall. Lyuda and Semyon had severe chest fractures, so intense that one forensic expert compared the injuries to those sustained in a car crash. Both of them received these injuries while they were still alive. Lyuda’s was so severe, her ribs had punctured her heart. Then there was another chilling discovery: Lyuda was missing her tongue and one eye. It had been completely removed, though how and why remains one of the most puzzling aspects of the case. Semyon’s eyeballs were missing and Sasha was missing his eyebrows. The pathologist felt it was damaged due to the bodies being face-down. Some speculate that it was removed post-mortem, possibly by animals or scavengers, but no clear explanation has ever been given. Strangely, the bodies showed no external injuries typically associated with the bone fractures they had sustained, as if they had been exposed to an immense force or pressure. The injuries, according to doctors, could not have been inflicted by an animal or another human. Considering the sub-zero temperatures, it is not surprising that all of the bodies showed signs of frostbite and hypothermia. The positions in which they were found, and the fact that they had fled the tent so inadequately dressed, pointed to a sudden, terrifying event that had caused them to abandon their shelter without proper protection from the elements. They would all have known that in doing so, they were facing certain death. The autopsy reports for the four bodies from the ravine indicated that their injuries were the result of an “unknown compelling force” – a phrase that has been endlessly debated and analysed by researchers, conspiracy theorists, and investigators ever since. How could they have sustained such injuries without any external signs of trauma? And what could have caused such force in the first place? Initially, investigators considered the possibility that the group had been attacked, given the slashed tent canvas. However, forensic analysis revealed that the tent had been cut from the inside, suggesting a frantic attempt by the hikers to escape. There was a flashlight, still on, on the top of the tent, and it is presumed that it was left on purpose, to help them find the tent when they were ready to return. So, what in the world happened on that icy night? Since 1959, the mystery of the Dyatlov Pass Incident has spawned countless theories – ranging from the logical to the fantastical. One of the most widely accepted theories is that the hikers were caught in a small, delayed slab avalanche. The theory suggests that a buildup of snow above the tent may have shifted and started to slide, causing the hikers to believe a full-scale avalanche was imminent. In their panic, they cut their way out of the tent and fled down the slope, abandoning their gear in their haste. But this theory has its problems. The area where the tent was found showed no signs of a significant avalanche, and the tent itself was still partially standing. On one of the last photos taken by the group, someone’s ski poles are poked into the snow outside the tent. In one of the rescue group’s photo’s, those poles are still upright – unlikely if an avalanche came through the area, with such severe force that it caused the deaths of nine people. Also, some of the injuries sustained by the final four hikers were far more severe than what one would expect from a typical avalanche. Members of the search party, experienced mountaineers who had extensive knowledge of avalanches insist that the scene did not bear any of the signs one would expect to find in the aftermath of such an event. Then there is the theory that the group of students had unwittingly crossed paths with a military operation. Given that this was the Soviet Union during the height of the Cold War, many have speculated that the hikers might have stumbled upon a classified military test. The area around Dyatlov Pass was known to be used for military testing, including parachute mine exercises. Parachute mines explode while still in the air, rather than upon hitting the ground, and can cause injuries similar to those found on the hikers—severe internal damage with minimal external trauma. This theory aligns with reports of glowing orange orbs seen in the sky near the area, seen as far as Ivdal on that night. These lights may have been military aircraft or descending parachute mines. In this theory, the hikers could have been caught in the blast of a parachute mine, which could account for the severe internal injuries found on the four hikers whose bodies were found in the ravine. Also Semyon, who still had his camera around his neck when he was found, had taken a photo of a bright light – could this have been a parachute mine?   Adding to the military testing theory is the fact that some of the hikers’ clothing was found to be radioactive. While the radiation levels weren’t high enough to be immediately lethal, they were far above normal. It’s speculated that the group could have been exposed to radioactive material during a weapons test or stumbled upon radioactive fallout in the area. But why would only some of the clothes have been contaminated. In his documentary ‘An Unknown Compelling Force,’ filmmaker Liam le Guillou uncovered that the clothing that tested positive for radiation belonged to Sasha and Yuri Krivonischenko. Both of them had worked in nuclear plants after they graduated, and the probability of being exposed to radiation at work is a far more likely explanation than some event that took place on the mountain, only targeting them. However, no conclusive evidence of military involvement has ever been uncovered, and Soviet officials denied any such activity in the region at the time. But then again – would they ever admit to it? Then there is the theory of paradoxical undressing, offering possible explanation for why some of the hikers were found undressed. This typically happens in the later stages of hypothermia. As the body shuts down, it can create a false sensation of warmth, causing people to remove their clothing even in freezing temperatures. As the body shuts down, it can create a sensation of extreme heat, leading the person to remove their clothes despite the freezing conditions. This could explain why several of the hikers were found without proper clothing, even though they fled into freezing conditions. But this theory does little to explain why they left the safety of the tent in the first place, or the traumatic injuries found on some of the bodies. Also, it is more likely that the two Yuri’s were without their clothes, because the others had taken it off their dead bodies in a desperate attempt to survive. Another meteorological theory suggests that the group may have been caught in a rare and violent weather phenomenon known as katabatic winds. These winds occur when dense, cold air descends rapidly from higher elevations, creating extreme wind speeds and noise that could have disoriented and panicked the hikers. In their confusion, they may have fled the tent, only to become lost in the storm. This theory could explain the sudden and chaotic abandonment of the camp, though it still leaves questions about the injuries. For some, the mysterious circumstances surrounding the hikers’ deaths have given rise to more far-fetched theories. One popular idea suggests the group may have encountered a yeti or some other cryptid, with the severe injuries and the missing tongue cited as evidence of a creature attack. This theory gained traction partly due to a playful entry in the group's documents. They had created a mock newspaper-style diary with sensationalist headlines, and one article humorously speculated about a yeti roaming the northern Urals. Adding to this speculation is a blurred photo from the group’s camera, which some claim shows a figure resembling a yeti in the woods. However, when viewed alongside other photos taken at the same time, the context changes. The group had been goofing around and staging playful moments. It’s likely the photo was staged too. Perhaps one of the hikers with a hood over their head, walking in an exaggerated “yeti-like” manner. Given the distance and blurriness of the image, it’s impossible to make a definitive conclusion. In the same vein as the paranormal and unexplained, others have pointed to strange lights in the sky reported by nearby witnesses on the night of the incident, speculating that the hikers could have been victims of extraterrestrial contact or a UFO encounter. One of the last photos – the much discussed 34th frame – showed peculiar lights in the sky. Expert photo analyses proved that it wasn’t camera flares – and whatever it was seemed to move at a high speed, as it was distorted. The strongest case for this was that it could have been a military rocket being launched – or as we discussed earlier: a parachute mine. While these theories are popular in the realm of science fiction, they lack any substantial evidence and are generally dismissed by serious investigators. Then there is the story, steeped in folklore, speculating that Igor’s group stole some artefacts from a Mansi shrine. Deeply offended and vengeful, a shaman then followed them and once they were all asleep in the tent, seeped a substance into the tent, causing them to hallucinate and run riot, succumbing to the harsh elements. Curiously, a logger named Pashkin, with close ties to the local Mansi tribe joined the search party. He claimed that, he and another member of the tribe, found the tent on February 24. Yet they did not look inside to see if they could find anyone, nor did they report the location of the tent. Pashkin was with two other volunteers when they came upon the tent on the 26th and refused to have a closer look. One has to wonder: did he already know what had happened to the hikers? Soviet authorities needed a concrete answer to close the case. So, after months of investigation, the official inquiry into the Dyatlov Pass Incident concluded that the hikers had died as a result of “an unknown compelling force,” a vague and mysterious explanation that left many unsatisfied. The case was closed, and the files were classified, adding fuel to the many conspiracy theories surrounding the incident. It wasn’t until 2019, 60 years after the tragedy, that Russian authorities reopened the case. In 2020, after further analysis, they concluded that the most likely cause of the incident was a small avalanche, specifically a slab avalanche. This occurs when a solid slab of snow breaks off and slides down, potentially explaining the lack of external damage on the tent. The hikers had panicked, fled the tent, and succumbed to hypothermia and injuries caused by the avalanche. Recent scientific models, including computer simulations, have lent more credibility to this idea. However, the theory still cannot fully explain the traumatic injuries or why some of the hikers were found so far from the tent, without their gear. And why did they not stick together? Yet, despite the latest findings, many believe that the true cause of the Dyatlov Pass Incident remains a mystery. The conflicting evidence, bizarre injuries, and strange circumstances of the hikers’ deaths leave room for endless speculation. To this day, researchers, investigators, and armchair detectives continue to pore over the details, searching for answers. The pass formerly better known as Death Mountain, was officially named Dyatlov Pass in 1959, shortly after the tragic incident. The name was given as a way to commemorate the group, led on the ill-fated adventure by Igor Dyatlov and the mystery surrounding their deaths. The bodies were laid to rest together in a cemetery in Yekaterinburg, where a memorial now stands in their honour. Yuri Yudin, the sole survivor who lived to be 75, requested to be buried alongside his friends, having carried the weight of survivor’s guilt throughout his life. In death, he was finally reunited with them for eternity. Whatever the truth may be, the tragedy of the Dyatlov Pass remains one of the most perplexing and chilling mysteries of the 20th century. Nine young, capable hikers set out on an adventure, only to meet their untimely and terrifying deaths on the slopes of Kholat Syakhl, Death Mountain. While official investigations point to natural causes, the strange details of the case continue to baffle and intrigue, leaving many to wonder: What really happened that night? If you'd like to dive deeper into this case, check out the resources we used for this episode in the show notes. Don’t forget to follow us on social media for more updates on today's case – you can find us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. We also have a channel on YouTube where you can watch more content. If you enjoy what we do here at Evidence Locker, please subscribe on Apple Podcasts or wherever you're listening right now and kindly leave us a 5-star review. This was The Evidence Locker. Thank you for listening.