It became evident that her husband's scientific work involved constant business trips, often leading to long and uncomfortable expeditions. Spartan living conditions, harsh weather, and other challenges made Olga uneasy. The room in Trekhprudny Lane served merely as a brief resting place between the ever-increasing number of journeys. If Professor Lepeikin, a favorite of students, often repeated the Latin aphorism «via est vita» meaning «life is a road,» then it could be said of Mirachevsky that his entire life was a journey.
The country had been woefully short of reliable highways (not just railroads) in the past, but the construction of factories across the Union and the development of new fields in Siberia demanded a transportation revolution. Designing new routes required months of laborious fieldwork, conducting detailed studies of the terrain.
In essence, Leonid's childhood dreams had come true. Adventure was an integral part of his life, but sometimes it could be perilous.
By mid-June, Mirachevsky was dispatched to the Volga region, where the construction of the Saratov-Millerovo railway line, initially planned by the tsarist government before the outbreak of World War I, was underway. This project held great importance as it aimed to connect the Volga regions with the Black Sea ports. Leonid assumed the role of senior engineer for the technical survey party.
It was only at this point that Olga truly understood the path she had chosen in life. Leonid, shuttling between the Volga region, Rostov, various points of the route, Moscow, the institute, and family life, was often exhausted, yet he felt utterly content. A life brimming with love and passion for his work energized him. He reveled in engaging cases, adored his «girls» at home, and passionately debated in the department, seeking truth. All of this seemed to invigorate him even more. Olga admired her husband's tireless energy – it seemed that the more he gave, the stronger he became. However, it also occasionally irritated her. Every woman feels more at ease with a reliable shoulder to lean on, someone to be there at any time, not just once a month.
And Leonid, who had already proven his capabilities in the southern direction, was entrusted with the next responsible and incredibly challenging task: research in Siberia. The assignment was slated to be lengthy, with no possibility of returning to Moscow. Therefore, the Mirachevskys faced the difficult decision of how to proceed with their lives.
After the department meeting, Professor Lepeikin caught up with him in the lobby:
«Leonid, you understand the importance of this project,» he said loudly, shaking Mirachevsky's hand. «And you know, if I were younger, I would be envious of you: such opportunities, such uncharted research territory!»
He then added in a lowered voice:
«But I sympathize with you, frankly. It's a very… extremely challenging environment there. It's almost Yakutia.»
«Thank you, Pyotr,» Leonid was touched by his beloved teacher's concern. «But, as you know, we go wherever the Motherland sends us.»
Lepeikin's tone became serious:
«I wish you good luck. And take care of yourself…» His worry was evident.
«Don't worry, Professor. You and I will be designing roads beyond the Arctic Circle!»
In reality, Leonid was experiencing conflicting emotions. He was pleased with his new assignment: being entrusted with such a responsible task fueled his enthusiasm. On his way home, he already began envisioning future routes, searching for the one true direction in the impenetrable wilderness. However, his joy was tempered by the need to explain the situation to his wife. He couldn't fathom being apart for a year, and perhaps even longer. How could he hint at the possibility of taking his family with him?
The task was further complicated by the fact that the survey was set to begin in March, before the spring floods thawed the roads.
Olga immediately sensed that her husband was withholding something when he shared how his day had gone. She observed him playing with their daughter, and though she didn't rush him or ask any questions, she knew he would eventually confide in her. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but feel anxious: his hesitation indicated that the matter was serious.
Once Irina fell asleep, Leonid, looking guilty, started to speak hesitantly:
«Olga…»
«A business trip?»
«No, Olga. An expedition.»
«Does that mean for a long time?» For some reason, Olga wasn't taken aback by the news.
«Not only that. It's also very far away.»
To be honest, she had anticipated something like this for a while. The development of Siberia was a constant topic of conversation among her husband's friends, who debated the best routes to lay, considering the challenges of climate and terrain.
«And what do the guidelines say for pioneer families in such situations?»
He smiled (acknowledging her irony!):
«The guidelines do not prohibit families from accompanying survey party personnel.»
He then continued with a furrowed brow:
«But you could stay. I even think it might be better for you to stay. You see, this is the northeast of the Siberian region, almost Yakutia (the professor's words came to mind, by the way), and it's uncertain how Irina will tolerate this climate.»
«Look, I won't pretend that I'm thrilled about all of this. But how long will the expedition last: six months, a year? What's your vision for our family life?»
«She wants to go? Great!» That was exactly the answer he had hoped for.
«Our life will be beautiful and extraordinary!»
«Shh, you'll wake her.»
«And we'll have a few more babies.»
… Falling asleep, Leonid said:
«And by the way, I'm the head of the party…»
The small caravan, having departed from Irkutsk, was resolutely pushing forward through the snowy kingdom – everything around them was a pristine white: the road, the trees, and even the horses' faces were covered in hoarfrost. Olga couldn't help but reminisce about the long journey on the comfortably heated «international» carriage of the swift Moscow-Vladivostok train that had commenced from the Yaroslavl station in the capital. But now, for her, a native of the blessed warm lands, the discomfort was palpable: they had traveled, probably, over a thousand versts (if one were to reckon in the old way) from Irkutsk. She thought wistfully: «What a Decembrist wife! If only I had known…» While Moscow was already experiencing the thaw, winter here showed no signs of receding, and they were drawing near the location where the expedition was to be established. Traveling along the ancient Irkutsk-Yakutsk postal road felt especially arduous due to their unaccustomedness to the conditions.
«Tell me, Leonid, who needs railroads in this remote place?»
«People live everywhere…»
It felt as though the snowy thicket had no end, but then the aroma of smoke reached their senses, and a settlement suddenly emerged on the path. The sleigh entered a courtyard, almost concealed under the snow, and stopped beside a hut adorned with exquisite carvings, like something out of a fairy tale.
The driver tossed aside his heavy fur attire and assisted the travelers. The house was warm and toasty, and at a long table, men were gathered, sipping tea. From the cups, saucers, and the towering samovar, fragrances of tea and medicinal herbs wafted through the air. Steam emanated from the frost as newcomers entered. A robust woman, seemingly