Fishing in the Krasnoyarsk region

“Blitzkrieg”, or the confession of a beginner taiga. Part 3. The way home. Chapter first. On reserved places …

Today we all got up late, around eight o’clock in the morning. For two reasons. Firstly, the coming day, as it seemed to us yesterday, was not very difficult and did not foretell difficulties (and prey), just a way back: for someone a measured passage along the river bank, and for someone rafting on calm, but fast flows to the lower reaches (naive!), you can take a nap just a little more. Secondly, after yesterday’s evening relaxation and rest, I instantly (just settled in my sleeping bag), “lost” a good sleep and gave “snoring”, scouring all the game in the district, including bears a couple of kilometers from our place of lodging. That the bears fled in panic is good, but the “thunder rolls” also did not allow long to fall asleep to my companions. The “heart-rending roar” in the taiga stopped, or rather went into decline sometime in an hour of my calm and deep sleep, and only after that, friends could also indulge in serene and calm bliss. During the preparation of breakfast, of course, others expressed to me everything they thought about the “humane” repelling the bears from the camp. But the hot, hearty breakfast acted, the minor inconveniences of the last night spent in the past, and we together began to cook, pack things to rafting and to return to the mouth of the tributary. We loaded our backpacks and tackles (we did not plan fishing) to the inflated boat, which was governed by Big. Dick and I divided the cargo, which we will carry along the shore. He’s a gun, I’m a camera. The fire is extinguished, the boat is ready for launching, the weather is lucky, we are waiting for an easy trip down to the meeting in the agreed place with the second team, which goes under the engines (possibly take in tow). Here, we have all plundered and amused ourselves with fishing, the mood is super! Let’s hit the road,

Not a hike, but a walk of the day off (it was, by the way, Sunday). There is practically no cargo, everything floats along the river Big on the boat, it rules. Now you can admire the surrounding beauty of the taiga. The sun is still low, its heat is not felt, there are no midges, plus a gentle breeze that does not sweat, gently ruffles the coastal grass. We hear her quiet rustling, just behind the slapping of the oars, the current of the river on this site is unhurried, Big does not overtake us. We go without much effort. And around the virgin taiga …

We move slowly, we communicate. The straps of backpacks do not rub their shoulders and do not pull to the ground. We leave from there, where we so wanted to climb. Dick with a gun a little ahead, I’m behind, and on the Bolshaya River … We pass all the same thickets of reeds and sedges, along an even and stony bank in the floodplain of the river. Smoking, soon reach the place where the Big shot “karkushu.” Dick gives the sign to the Great to approach our shore. It seems that the experienced taiga owner was interested and alarmed. He moored. Dick goes to the boat, pulls out his remaining tackle (the spinning was broken by a taimen, as we already know) – a fishing pole with a fly. Configures, goes to the roll, throws, slowly and … This is the result ….

The first worthy grayling is extracted. We must also unwind and prepare the gear for successful fishing. We collect our spinning gear, and fishing begins. Casting, wiring, soft bite, pulling, tightening, “singing” in the wind fishing line, bending spinning, braking, pleasant resistance of the fish … And here is a new copy of taiga fish on the shore and in the standings of the fisherman who extracted it. We were seized with AZART … Of three or four casts necessarily bite, and fish on the shore. Everyone is catching. I run along the shore, changing the dislocation. Big as an experienced “Kamchadal” on his “pie” quickly and dexterously moves from one shore to another, looking for places of increased biting and finds. Dick, by some kind of instinct only, searches for catchy places, approaches, throws a fly, holds and necessarily draws out good grayling. At this place, the biting was simply magnificent. There were practically no gatherings. See, there are still places where there is a “non-isolated” fish. In less than an hour, as all caught several copies. Yes, the taiga again surprised us and pleased us.

The catch is good for everyone. And Dick just pruha on grayling. Here is one handsome man from his collection of specimens.

Yes, an unplanned stop, but the extraction is decent …

The catchy place and the result of fishing surpassed all our expectations, then, as usual, the cutting, ambassador and packing of fish into the “cubaners”. Having finished the initial processing (there is still time), they jumped up the mountain for joy, behind the berry. Adrenaline in the blood … Just bursting. Vashche awesome, a full break from “vanity of vanities” … It is necessary to calm down.

Clean air, the taiga is intoxicating … The fish that followed here are already “packed”, you can also go to blueberries, which this year in the taiga on the shores of black-black. The very process of eating should be prescribed in books on relaxation. Lazily creeping along the slope of the hill, leaning his knees on the soft green moss, slowly picking up a full handful of fragrant “balls” and sending a large, almost perfect berry into your mouth … A bouquet of vitamins and aroma … Only here, after collecting fresh, just removed from the bush berry, good portion inside, you understand all the buzz of her taste …

Oh, well we went and stopped at a decent place. Bottles for fish and vitamins are replenished, a pleasant aftertaste is in the mouth, there will also be a taiga “present” for friends and acquaintances at home, but it’s so easy and peaceful in the soul … But you need to leave the “cherished place” and continue the journey. And we went, downstream again. Having reached the places where we crossed (or rather crawled) rocks along the way here, the doubt that we could (can) pass here the day before yesterday with pood bags behind us rolled over me. The place is simply impassable and impassable. It is difficult even to travel lightly (on the way back, I once nearly slid from the cliff into the river, and also, moving on rocks and once stumbling on the stones, badly bruised my knee), and I still do not believe that this route can be traversed from load (more on it I will never go). For the Great on water, too, everything is not so simple. Meli,

Further simpler. The coast has become even, the river is full of water. Ahead of a flock of ducks. Have decided to repeat the checked up early variant (with the call from a taiga). Dick left with a gun in the “pampas”, we with Big expect a conditional signal to drive the ducks to him. Suddenly a shot is heard, in five minutes another. The ducks were alarmed and went far ahead, they could not catch up. What happened? We are waiting for Dick. And here he comes a little ahead. In the hands of a gun and two hazel grouses! “I went into the taiga, I go, it’s difficult to move, a lot of windmills and deep moss. I see ten meters away from me on a hazel grove tree. It’s better to have a “bird in the hand” than to chase after the unaccounted ducks … I shoot a shot, then another scared hazel grouse takes off from a nearby tree, makes a semicircle and sits about twenty meters from me, I make another shot. ” Normally, it will be that in the soup to put, perhaps, and fry for dinner, and the ducks will wait. We with the Big started to take a look with Dick’s prey for memory, “to each in a hazel grouse.”

Our further path lay on the slightly overgrown sedge of the river, along the coastal tall cedars, under the roots of which there was a lot of pedal bump that we collected.

So, scraping pine nuts, picking up the dogrose and stuffing them with pockets for the evening aromatic tea, we measuredly and leisurely, for a couple of hours reached the place of our previous bivouac on the banks of the tributary. Walking along the sand spit, we clearly saw the traces left by us on it the day before yesterday. We move along the same route and suddenly … We see on the sand another distinct fresh trail crossing our … Bear, big (the track is much larger than my 42nd), and, it seems, passed only recently, in the interval between our transitions and very close to the place of our day before yesterday’s parking (went from the other side, waded). Somehow it became restless in my heart. Faster to the other side and rather to the mouth. Everything, the smooth road has ended, further to us with Dik it is necessary four-kilometer transition on rocks, to Big – rafting on the river with frequent, though not abrupt rolls, but still dangerous (sharp stones sticking out over the water). At the place of the last parking lot, a ten-minute halt was made, and our further actions were minted. It was agreed that Dick and I were walking along the rocky shore, and Big is rafting down the river to the “Gulf”, where we should meet, relax, smoke and think over the variant of the next stage of the route. After resting, they helped Big to launch a boat, and it would be carried by a fast current … We skipped along the rocks, catching up our fused goods on the river. We reached (almost ran) with Dick on the stones to the meeting place, thank God, did not break a wow (although a couple of times just a little did not fall, a bit turned each one on one of the legs). But they were still in place before the Bolshoi. He was less fortunate, on one of the passes he could not straighten the boat, he was pressed to the rocks by the current, the boat was flooded. A series of powerful paddle blows, he still corrected the situation, and the boat came out again to the rim, surpassing the underwater sharp stones. And now our Charon, passing the dangerous areas, moors in a calm and safe harbor.

Here we take out all our sweaty and swollen bags and backpacks, merge from the boat the collected water. We rest, smoke and go forward a little to see the further route.

Fear is afraid, plus we have three more rolls ahead of us. There is an option to go along the shore, dragging the cargo on yourself and passing a difficult place. But along the shore, too, the path is hampered by fallen trees, it is difficult to pass with cargo. We decide the first roll to pass on the ropes. By the result we will decide how to overcome the others. We equip, pack the cargo, prepare the boat, tie ropes.

We begin the controlled alloy (descent) of the boat on the threshold. (It is recommended for the full effect to see the following photos in the slideshow mode).

The first threshold without losses is passed, you can smoke. And then three more. I recommended to load the load on myself, although it is difficult and hard, but to transfer everything to myself. But Big, you see, was in an agiotage. “No, I can. And I’ll bring the boat to the place of the cache. I’ll go and hold her on the rope. ” Well, if there is a hunt, why not, dare (the main thing is that the arms and legs remain intact). And he poper. River, rush, boat, which is ready to wrest from the hands holding the rope, as well as water, which knocks down. And all this strength of the elements experienced on our Big. I give a photo plus a photo in the approximation …

Yes, only here you understand how small a person is in the struggle with nature.

After, in a private conversation (already at halt), Big said that he would not try again, which he then experienced. Whatever it cost him, but still Big brought (lowered) the boat with things to the place of our cache. Again they took the filled backpacks from the boat, turned them over, poured out the water. The next stage is over, we allow ourselves a short-term halt, although it’s already evening. We think, we are conferring, as we will proceed further: the cargo becomes more (after all we get things out of the cache), rafting or on ourselves to drag everything in backpacks along the shore? They had a rest, discussed it and came to a common opinion: if the boats dragged here on themselves from below, across the ruts and against the current, then we can float on them with the same cargo at the mouth. The pilots found themselves at once, Dick and Big. I was also rated as “ballast”. High and heavy. And it was prescribed to me not to overload the boat, move the remaining 500 meters to the mouth on foot, carrying a small amount of strategic cargo. I, in my turn. was not against the walk. And here they gave me their most secret things … All of our fishing rods (in a case), a gun, all video and cameras, an ax and knives and other vital artifacts. So that they can not be spoiled on dangerous passes, and they also do not spoil our boats. We did not have an extra shoulder bag, so everything that should not get wet and can tear the boat was loaded into plastic bags. Having hung all this on himself, and having taken something in his hands, he moved to the lower reaches of the tributary. These last 500 meters of the crossing for me were the heaviest, the load is not distributed and correctly laid, all rubs, although the weight is only 20 kilograms, but pulls so … It is unclear why, in the hands of two healthy packages. After only 100 meters, I’m already sweating, but I’m moving, I approach the mouth. I’m going, I’m dreaming … I’ll soon be there, there are 400 meters left, there should not be anyone at the mouth (the weekend is over), I’ll collect firewood, I’ll make a fire, comrades will get warm, we’ll put up tents, eat, and we’ll just get baked early … And then I got dragged, , finally came to the rocky ridge, behind it the mouth … From the head sweat stream, it covers the eyes, I brush the moisture, in front of me opens the whole picturesque floodplain with its steep in the middle of the riverbed, the delta with the stony beach, the opposite distant rocky shore and … “mermaids “, Splashing into the heat th creek flowing into the river tributary … It seems that the bug is intense and tired for the trip of the body. I put the packages on the ground. I rub my eyes again … And it’s true, in the water two ladies slowly swim, sweetly spinning and occasionally stirring up the taiga with their contagious laughter. Here LADIES … And I’m unshaven …
Then they noticed me … It’s evening, taiga and silence for 100 km around, and there are no other people. I hear their voices … “Look … A man … From the taiga … One goes … And with packages …?”
Without losing merit (Dick insistently recommended not to communicate with strangers in the taiga), pick up packages, one of which says “Holiday”, on the other “Fast” (this is not advertising) and go down sedately with a very meaningful kind of down (like an old taiga, an earner, and all your jokes know). I choose a place where I can put tents, a little bit away from their bivouac, I sit down, without forgetting to look around (as Dick taught).

Three tents, two ladies plus two young men.
My pull is not earlier than in fifteen minutes, I’ll be wasting time. Ladies started first: “Hey, young man, where are you from?” The answer is: “From the forest, vesti …” (I’m pulling time, mine are on the way). “And how long have you been in the taiga?” “A lot.” “And all with the packages you go? And without a gun? “(Find out, uuuu … zlydni). “I have a grandfather’s knife, he went with a bear to the bear, got five of them” (for example, he spelled a bit for the sake of importance, and where are my comrades?). And then the ladies come out of the water and … “Do not you want to go to the steam bath from the road?” She’s in pairs. We took a little heat from the stones, and you have enough … “Uuuu … Sirens … how to lure something … We must wait for their. But somehow after this proposal, the distrust itself was gone, they began to talk, talked. Five minutes from the headwaters with a loud roar and the rest of the abnormal supply of words came down, or rather, rolled down my companions,

The first thing they asked was why there was no fire. But then the ladies joined in …

“Did you see the bears? Did they bite you, or did you shoot? “My wanted to answer honestly the new provocation, but … Ladies, sweetly squeaking and discussing something only understandable to them, and also asking us about adventures, cute hinted that the bath was melted long ago, if you want now , we invite, if not, then … just cool down … From the bathhouse (and we did not wash for a week) who would refuse? Here, and Dick, “super-agent” (Russian, very like a bathhouse), surrendered. We took soap out of soaked sacks and immediately into the tent where it was heated … The bathhouse, the Russian bath, on the riverbank, in the taiga, is something, especially when you do not expect it at all (I really wanted it, or rather, we needed it).

Spreading and warming his fresh birch twig with his fresh birch broom, he strained his long un-washed body, dispersed his blood, ran out and dived into the purest, cold water, did as much as “plops”, jumped out and ran back into the hot steam room … What could be more beautiful for a tired and exhausted body to recover! Heat, water and cleanliness washed away the extra mistrust of new acquaintances, like tears from us after the bath layer of the epidermis. Putting out the tents, pulling all the sodden things out of the bags and hung them to dry with the permission of our new acquaintances near their long-burning fire, we somehow completely “melted” and were filled with gratitude and confidence in our new hospitable neighbors. Plus in the neighborhood they invited us to share with them already prepared hot dinner (soup) … At the invited meal we could not come without a presentation. The grouse was brought to the account of the gift and taken from her nest, dear. And so, settling in the mouth (having prepared everything for the night), disguised in all clean, we went to our neighbors.

We met, the people were from the nearby city, which we passed. They melt along the river for the first time. They go on two rowing boats. The route is further similar to ours. Too newcomers to the taiga (gurus like Dick, they do not have a team). In the ear are okunky and pike. Complained that the catch is small and prey (game) is not. At this moment, Dick pulls out his hazel grouses and presents … This was a superdiplomatic move … The neighbors were just delighted … The ladies immediately took up cooking the second one – stewed potatoes with hazel grouses. We helped in the evisceration and cutting of game.

The pot with the freshened hazel-hens is put on fire, the potatoes are prepared and cleaned, you can take the first and rest. I pour out the first in the taiga system, i.e. in each mug the volume of one sip. A toast to an acquaintance. Well gone, under the ears. After the second lady talked and described their impressions of our appearance at the mouth.

“We’ve been fusing for three days already. We decided to stop here, a good place plus other fishermen are not around. The influx is wide, the water is clean, the beach is comfortable. They settled down, the guys built a bath, heated the stones. Evening, dinner shknorechit at the stake, we steamed, decided to bathe. We run out, we flop down into the water creek, the water is warm. Around the taiga, for 100 km there is no one except us around. Then suddenly we see a peasant on the rock. Without a gun, with fishing rods and packages … Who is he, where, why is he coming from the taiga with light, without a backpack, and even more without a gun? … They decided to ask, and so we met. ”

“Well, once again for the acquaintance, I hope, not much scared.” They told our story about the hike to the upper reaches of the tributary, the vicissitudes of the path and the results. The ladies simply “squeaked”, listening to the narrative, and looked at us as heroes of fairy-tale novels. At the end, I told the makeweight stories (were) from our youthful life. And the people brought to hysterical laughter. I tell, I spill, people laugh. There was a rush of grouse. Honestly, I tried the first time in the life of a young hazel grouse. It is something! the taste is inexpressible. Our Mayakovsky correctly wrote: “Eat pineapples, grouse grouses, your last day comes, bourgeois.” Not in the sense of living, but they are just delicious. So in a nice conversation and the use of frills we sat until midnight, it’s time for the side.

Me and Dick are already asleep. Tomorrow we are waiting for a new day and new adventures …
Next:

“Blitzkrieg”, or the confession of a beginner taiga. Part 2 There and back. Chapter Five. In the mouth …

Today we slept with Dick, we slept until nine in the morning. And that, we can afford: on this day our team deserved a day off. But the physiological clock of the Bolshoi did not make a discount for the agreed and approved rest day, and he, as usual, went up early (for us very early), climbed out of the tent, rigged a spinning and was going hunting, hoping to pick up a decent trophy.

At that time a young man came out of the next tent for a small need. Seeing that Big prepares the tackle, he, without thinking twice, began to ask for a “master class” for spinning fishing. See, yesterday, under the vodka and hazel grouse, telling about the outings to the upper reaches and the results of fishing, we gave a swing and, in the eyes of our neighbors, immediately became masters and a “guru” of spinning. The Bolshoi had to keep the mark of the Spin-Singlers. Long breaking (such as “no time”), after a short but active persuasion, he agreed to give a short, instructive “blitz-training” from “taiga fishermen”, but with one condition: that his technique will be closely watched, listen to the comments without asking questions, and all his actions will be captured on a camera for history. Conditions without discussion were adopted. And our sensei started training.

In the process of express training, they wound a couple of miles along the shore of the tributary and the river itself. All would be nothing but how to throw a spoon and where, Big told and showed, it was obtained and the student, but in the places where they threw their bait, there was no fish … Two hours of fishing and no bites.

Combing, familiarized thoroughly all the nearest holes and ruts, learned how to throw and throw a spoon-bait. But still … empty …

Here, our Moses thought about … If this is the case, all the earned bonuses of yesterday’s stories will be reduced to nothing, to teach to throw a spoon-bait – it’s not bad, but you need to extract, especially a pupil in the course of an hour and a half wandering along the coastline and sharp stones, making frequent casts, with unaccustomed tired. I need luck …

Climbing a little higher, where Dick last time pulled a timepiece, Big noticed a promising roll. And the three-hour ordeal along the shore was crowned with success: there is prey … A small lenok in the hands of the joyful Bolshoi.

The disciple was also lucky – and he had “standard” lenok … Providence and this time did not disappoint the Great, in the eyes of the student the authority became even higher. Now he is Big-BIG … On this joyful and successful note, Big decided to finish the morning fishing and returned to our camp. Soon we woke up, together with our neighbors started to prepare breakfast. During the meal, the student, without restraining himself, enthusiastically told about the joint early morning campaign with the Great Zalenko … The big man was significantly silent, munching a simple breakfast … After finishing the morning meal, our new friends started to get ready for the journey. We, taking out the rugs from the tents, settled comfortably on the beach, took off their outer garments, remained in some swimming trunks, lay down under the warm, already high sun, awaiting the arrival of the second team from Novosib (there was no blessing for that day on the beach). Class … The sun has been baking since morning. Around the level rocky shore, the fast flowing water, clean taiga air … A full kettle of boiling water is on, we are on “trestle beds”, we have rusks, sweets, chocolate, etc. We drink juicy tea, we wait for the “motors” (should come today): will be pulled on the tug and soon, without unnecessary movements, we will already be at the people … Relaxation … and dreams, dreams … We hear – from the upper reaches of us the roar of motors comes closer, closer and closer. We are separated by the last bend of the river. Surely countrymen? The caravan of approaching motor boats, having overcome the turn, goes to the finish line to the mouth of the tributary, on the banks of which we are located. Its own, strangers – so far to consider problematic. Follow the path to the mouth. We carefully peer into the distance … We are waiting. They are getting closer … Already clearly we see: two motorized rubber boats are coming down, Dragging one more on a leash. They go hard, though along the current, see, are loaded with people and belongings … Dick came out on the arrow of the braid … We hear: “Good afternoon, Sergei Borisovich !!!” See, your own: we meet fellow countrymen from Novosibirsk in the almost deserted Krasnoyarsk taiga! They come to the shore, moor, we help to drag boats to shore. Short, but capacious greetings, acquaintance of those who are not personally acquainted. And, of course, a photo for memory.

We unloaded the boats, organized a table. We had a bite, talked, shared impressions: they are about the road to the inflow, we are about our adventures and catch in the upper reaches. The avid fishermen caught fire. We decided to go along the rocks to the upper reaches with an overnight stay, perhaps, they will repeat our luck. We did not strongly persuade him, they simply announced that the result in these places could be modest, but the way is difficult. But they made a decision. After the second breakfast they gathered and together (plus a dog) went for trophy specimens. We took a minimum: food for two days, sleeping bags, a piece of cellophane, a gun. Passing to the rocks and cheering goodbye, we returned to the camp and continued the day of rest, which left us unforgettable impressions for the rest of our lives.

Our yesterday’s new acquaintances continued the rafting down to the people. Wishing them seven feet under the keel and “no scales and no tail,” rafted boats looked and when the “mermaids” disappeared behind the distant rumbling and foamy rushes, we proceeded to a non-binding rest. Sergey Borisovich is given a place in the tent with Bolshoy. He turned out to be a sociable man (he personally did not know it before). On the joys of meeting with fellow countrymen gave the go-ahead for calls from his satellite phone. Call your family, chat, send and receive news from home in real time (we have been on a march for more than a week) – which could be better for our little wild souls! Around the taiga, to people, as already written, many or many miles or a few days’ journey, and here in your hands is the miracle of modern technology: dial the number of the desired phone, and even though there is no wire, but you are connected … We could not take advantage of this opportunity. The first dialed the phone and talked with the Big Land Dick.

Briefly told about our adventures and the possible terms of exit from the taiga. The second was Big: he phoned his relatives, who gave him greetings and congratulations on his upcoming birthday (which he will celebrate in two days in our small but friendly company here in the taiga).

The third got to the miracle of modern technology I. But I was not lucky … I’m calling home – no one answers, my parents are the same … I’m dialing my blessed mobile – the result is unchanged. We are in the taiga, but nobody in the metropolis picks up the phone … It’s a shame … The ability to call and chat is used, and the other will not be in the near future … DSCN0836 But not everything is so sad. Listen further and envy … For an hour we on soft rugs we bask under the warm rays of the taiga sun, relaxing our tensed and tired muscles, accumulating strength for a further march-throw. Then from Bolshoe came a proposal: it’s enough to take only sunbathing, it’s time to pour yourself and water . Crawled into the water, splashing. The rest did not dare, mindful of the temperature of the water in the upper reaches (it is difficult to drink: it reduces the teeth from the cold). Big floats … and already something for a long time … Dick decided to plunge too … And now the two Ichthyanders dive and swim in the coastal cove. Something is wrong here: I must also try. I go into the water, but it’s warm … What did not you tell me immediately! They laugh … It turned out that there was a pool with stagnant water near the shore, which was heated in the sun. Water well, just fresh milk. But if you want to swim a little farther, where the rushing, immediately all the skin feel the cold from a clean flowing stream, rushing from the upper reaches. The next four hours passed right on us like on the beach of a warm tropical ocean. The sun, the purest air and water, the green taiga, a pleasant company … What other places on the planet Earth can be compared with the beauties of Siberian nature and with the sensations received from rest on the bank of the taiga river! … I do not know … I was not abroad … but it’s warm … What did not you tell me right away! They laugh … It turned out that there was a pool with stagnant water near the shore, which was heated in the sun. Water well, just fresh milk. But if you want to swim a little farther, where the rushing, immediately all the skin feel the cold from a clean flowing stream, rushing from the upper reaches. The next four hours passed right on us like on the beach of a warm tropical ocean. The sun, the purest air and water, the green taiga, a pleasant company … What other places on the planet Earth can be compared with the beauties of Siberian nature and with the sensations received from rest on the bank of the taiga river! … I do not know … I was not abroad … but it’s warm … What did not you tell me right away! They laugh … It turned out that there was a pool with stagnant water near the shore, which was heated in the sun. Water well, just fresh milk. But if you want to swim a little farther, where the rushing, immediately all the skin feel the cold from a clean flowing stream, rushing from the upper reaches. The next four hours passed right on us like on the beach of a warm tropical ocean. The sun, the purest air and water, the green taiga, a pleasant company … What other places on the planet Earth can be compared with the beauties of Siberian nature and with the sensations received from rest on the bank of the taiga river! … I do not know … I was not abroad … But if you want to swim a little farther, where the rushing, immediately all the skin feel the cold from a clean flowing stream, rushing from the upper reaches. The next four hours passed right on us like on the beach of a warm tropical ocean. The sun, the purest air and water, the green taiga, a pleasant company … What other places on the planet Earth can be compared with the beauties of Siberian nature and with the sensations received from rest on the bank of the taiga river! … I do not know … I was not abroad … But if you want to swim a little farther, where the rushing, immediately all the skin feel the cold from a clean flowing stream, rushing from the upper reaches. The next four hours passed right on us like on the beach of a warm tropical ocean. The sun, the purest air and water, the green taiga, a pleasant company … What other places on the planet Earth can be compared with the beauties of Siberian nature and with the sensations received from rest on the bank of the taiga river! … I do not know … I was not abroad …

But the August day is short, the sun went down to the sunset, and slowly disappeared behind the coastal high hills. The heat fell asleep, and the evening coolness fell on the ground. We raise the firebrush more feasible, we dress, we are warmed. We have supper … We discussed plans for the evening. We decided a little later, how it gets dark, go for a mouse-wash. And while there is time, we communicate.

During tea drinking, Dick told a story about a taimen coming down in the upper reaches and about a broken coil. Hearing this sad story of an inveterate fisherman, Sergei Borisovich took out his backpack, rummaged in it and … presented as a gift to Dick (Dick’s birthday was 10 days ago) a brand new coil Daiva. This is a royal gift! Especially in the taiga, where the spoon-baits are worth their weight in gold, and the reel in return is broken, the more professional! … It was necessary to see Dick’s eyes … they caught fire … Savior, saved our most experienced fisherman from despondency, and us – from malnutrition (about this a little bit later). Dick in return promised Sergei Borisovich on his name day (which will be day to day with the dnyuhoy Bolshoi) necessarily present in return a decent fishing trophy, and then decided. Dick immediately began to adjust his spinning and prepare for night hunting. Behind him and me and Bolshoy rearmed their gear. The weather pleased and beckoned to fishing exploits. The sky without clouds, the Milky Way is visible in all its glory, the full moon, shining with its pale rays coastal rocks and rough rolling. The preparatory process is over, it’s time to move forward. Before the release, Dick gave us a few valuable recommendations: do not make noise, we go in a chain, in advance of the planned place of catch we turn off the lights. We throw the mouse upstream, the winding is uniform, we twitch it a little with spinning, as we hear a slap – a two second break, a sweep … We leave the camp, Big ahead (after all the whole morning I ran along the shore and knows the path), I’m closing. illuminating the pale rays of the coastal rocks and stormy ruts. The preparatory process is over, it’s time to move forward. Before the release, Dick gave us a few valuable recommendations: do not make noise, we go in a chain, in advance of the planned place of catch we turn off the lights. We throw the mouse upstream, the winding is uniform, we twitch it a little with spinning, as we hear a slap – a two second break, a sweep … We leave the camp, Big ahead (after all the whole morning I ran along the shore and knows the path), I’m closing. illuminating the pale rays of the coastal rocks and stormy ruts. The preparatory process is over, it’s time to move forward. Before the release, Dick gave us a few valuable recommendations: do not make noise, we go in a chain, in advance of the planned place of catch we turn off the lights. We throw the mouse upstream, the winding is uniform, we twitch it a little with spinning, as we hear a slap – a two second break, a sweep … We leave the camp, Big ahead (after all the whole morning I ran along the shore and knows the path), I’m closing.

Gone downstream for about a kilometer, Dick’s signal, extinguish the lights. And immediately we are surrounded by darkness. But after a couple of minutes, the eyes adjust to the darkness, and in the languid radiance of the midnight moon, we begin to distinctly distinguish the contours of the shore, the rocks on the right hand, the river ruts. Dick signs, as usual on the hunt, puts us on the “numbers”. We try to walk quietly, and only the monotonous rumbling of the ruts excites the tranquility of these places. I look forward to the hunt for the river tsar, I accumulate all the experience gained for this trip. I’m preparing to cast, I restore all the recommendations of Dick. I spread out the spinning tackle, I choose, “pritaptyvaya” a comfortable legstand (according to stories, there were cases when a strong bait taimen on the mouse, the fisher lost balance, at best just fell, at worst hit his head on the stones and fainted), getting ready for the first cast , Strongly restraining a small involuntary jangling in his hands. Swinging, casting, whistling fishing lines, the lure flies away and falls somewhere in the darkness, behind the moonlit path, issuing a characteristic “plume” of the “mouse” fallen from the cliff, beckoning the taimen. The head is empty, full of detachment from all problems and irritants. You can no longer hear the noise of the river, you do not notice anything around … “Thirty-two, thirty-two, thirty-two” you say to yourself, and for each number you say, you do another rewind and a slight sharp twitching with spinning. The mouse can not be seen, and only with an inner instinct do you feel where it is at the moment of posting. After the first cast I throw a little to the right. Then three more shots in different directions. While empty. The eyes are already quite used to the taiga twilight. I choose another place, I turn. My friends, too, so far without result, change the dislocation. I get down just below, I stand on a large stone in front of the road. A new cast, “plume”, wiring, twitching, but so far in vain. Three more casts, the same result. Turning away, lighting a cigarette, concealing a smoldering cigarette. Below descend there is no reason, there are stranded, we must move higher to the camp. I fold the tackle into the marching mode, I move higher. Dick chose a very promising place. Aimed only at the trophy specimen, the mouse, that on its gear, it seems, imitates the “desman” – about ten centimeters in length, not counting the tail. It flies far, almost to the opposite shore. “Plyuh” is just super … Professional winding, but not a single bite yet. I’m moving to the Greater Greater Place. Of course, he does not have such a noble mouse. But the casting is also distant and the wiring is good. I stand, I smoke “in a fist”, I look. Big changes position. Casting, the lure flies into the darkness, but, it seems, went far, “flopped”, posting, etc. Standing on the shore, I was distracted, focusing my attention on the Milky Way … Suddenly a characteristic strong “slap” comes from the water, from which the lunar path explodes with a firework of radiant splashes … See, he’s … King of the river … Adrenaline went off even with me, what to say about the Big … Spin in the arc … the stop is cracking, Big turns the coil, Dik is running towards us … It’s not until the conspiracy, the sea of ​​splashes, candles, coupled taimen. The big one puts all his strength to pull out the coveted copy … Another beautiful candle (in the sea of ​​splashes of the night taiga under the light of the full moon), the tackles led to the right, a jerk … The line has fallen … Came off … After inspecting the tackle, they found out: could not stand fastening … Encouraged by a bite on the tackle of the Big (hence, there is a tayme), Dick and I, in an agiotage, spiked the coastline along and across our spinning lines. But how many did not try, there was not a single bite on my tackle, or on the “mastodon” of Dick. “Enough in vain to rinse in the river of mice, let’s go to sleep …” – someone said from us … And rightly, there will be a morning, a new day and a sure catch … All into the bunk …

The day was a success: you will never forget such impressions. The only offense is that the fellow countrymen collected a lot of cargo with them, we did not fit into the caravan of boats – there would be an overload. Well, we do not get used to it, we float further on the oars, the good and the strength are there, and the time … But we need a rest …

To be continued…

Annotation: in the following parts of the report “Blitzkrieg”, or confession of a beginner taiga! Soon: “Part 3. The road home”: a hurricane, low temperatures, catchy place, “spoiled food stock”, on the “verge of a nervous breakdown”, access to people, “time trouble”, accident, “landing”, etc.

“Blitzkrieg”, or the confession of a beginner taiga. Part 3. The way home.

It dawned … The morning, dank fog enveloped our parking lot had not yet come down from the hills, the pre-dawn taiga birds had just begun their early search. We sleep, gaining strength for tomorrow, or rather, today’s rafting. Morning dream … He is the sweetest and strongest … But Big is already on his feet … Having got out of his warm sleeping bag and “tamped” with our breath tents, bypassing the neighborhood, he begins to prepare breakfast …

He chop wood, ring the dishes, and so on. By all her activity, or rather the noise from her, meaningfully telling us that we did not go to sleep here, but went hunting for taiga fish … You’ll sleep at home … This insouciant monologue of the Greater gradually reaches everyone and he frees us from the clutches of Morpheus. We creep out from our warm “nests” to the damp, damp from the dew, a cold, stony shore.

And everyone instinctively, half-awake, moves to a warm fire, each of us waiting for a cup of fragrant, strong, hot tea, carefully prepared by the Great.

In the process of breakfast, the offer arrives while the group that has gone to the headwaters of the tributary has not returned, let’s go too far and leave, why not … Dress up the “swamps” take the spinnings, go up the stony ledges along the river bed. Its fast streams, the noise and roar of the rifts, where the water falls down clenched, steep ledges of rocks finally drive away from us the shroud of sleep, evoking the excitement of the fisherman … We choose convenient and in our opinion promising places, we throw, the blend flies exactly to where you plan, affects the experience gained. You start posting, methodically pulling the cord on the body of the coil and at this moment, waiting for the cherished bite, you forget about everything … Complete unity with nature … Nirvana …

The overall result of two hours of fishing …

There is no fish here, the whole has slipped into a big river, or our baits just ceased to interest her. We finish the rinsing of the spoon-baits, the more so the team returned from the upper reaches.

The result is not so hot … Five lenoks for two, we welcome the tired travelers at the warm fire, we rest than the god sent … Further not long gatherings and we are ready to sail from these most beautiful and most interesting places towards the “Big Land”, it’s time Home …

Waving with envy after the comrades on the engines, having agreed, to cross on the route next day, no matter how like the two Sergeevs tomorrow is the Birthday, we take the instruments of movement for the next three days (100 km still have to sail), and on the way …

Already more than two hours of the road, we are surrounded by wooded, fir hillocks, our boats slowly (or rather practically standing) move down the river. Dick and I work with oars in varying ways, but everything is hard. There is practically no flow, moving forward is accomplished only by efforts in one human force. In many places, we were blocked by the numerous ruts and shallows, where necessary, pulling the boat with ropes and also doing it all with the same physical efforts. When there is at least a minimum current, rest, fish …

On the way occasionally pecked a little lenok and the middle grayling.

In addition, along the way, a few small okunks were jammed. The beginning of the rafting we did not strain much, the rest at the mouth of the tributary gave us strength, on the move the day flew by unnoticed. Because They moved out late, the lunch / snack did not stop at the parking lot. Boosted in boats dry. payem, and rafted to darkness until they found a convenient place near the flowing into the big river of a clean and cold tributary. We decided once for 30 km passed for the incomplete first day of rafting, then for the next one, having risen early we will pass all 60 km. We move along the schedule, and tonight we’ll arrange a feast for the “belly”. What was not packed (at one time in the “cache”) got, and on the table. Prepared potatoes with three jars of stew, baked on charcoal fish, and her homeland was exposed …

And what can we afford … There is still a whole bag of “stash” products, should be enough for at least 5 days. There two cans of stew, 2 kg, noodles, 1 kg, buckwheat, 6 packages of Doshiraka, 2 packets of tea, bread 5 loaves, candy, chocolate, refined sugar, 0.5 liters of alcohol, etc., etc. Fry, I do not want. How to get the package out of the “cache”, did not check, so in a bag and loaded into a boat … Let’s open tomorrow for Dnyuha Bolshoi … There will be a feast …

And the place was picked up not bad, there is a table, a “dryer” -frame under the bath, you see before us on the previous day, stopped “mermaids” … Firewood … Good end of the day … Oh, and ate that evening, and warmed from the heart …

Everything, sleep in warm “mattresses” … Tomorrow again spank the n-th number of kilometers … Earlier the morning … It’s chilly, wet and cold … Today, Dick and I have climbed before. Morning toilet, breakfast, ate yesterday’s raznosoly, pumped up the boats and on the way … It was already seven o’clock in advance. By twelve ahead of the corner saw smoke, approaching … As agreed, the team on the engines waiting for us at the agreed place … Meeting of two Sergeyev … On the day of their birthday …

Exchange of wishes of everything, and gifts … Toast in honor of the birthday … As always in such cases, even in such places there is an exhilarating …

While we exchanged pleasantries, laid the table, cooked the grub, Dick took his spinning, went around the nearest water, and got, as he promised earlier two “taimeney” (I myself still have difficulty in finding differences) as a gift to Dnyukha Sergey Borisovich, he was just delighted with such a “Royal” presentation …

The team on the motors fed us with all the heart, having rested and communicated, we continued our journey to the lower reaches, leaving our fellow countrymen ashore and collecting their simple skaras, agreeing that they will wait for us there when they get out of Taiga into the City.

In rather, the team left behind, caught up with us.

No matter how horsepower and not slapping into the hand … Again passing greetings to each other and exchanged clarifying information about the location of the subsequent crossing, including the forts in the quiet and deep water motorized team jerked, foaming the expanse of the river ahead, leaving us behind … And only Big decided to throw a challenge to scientific progress on its light and twisted boat, deciding to overtake the modern motor in the draft … But soon fell behind …

I, in turn, also decided to keep up … But after five minutes, he stopped all his attempts and gave himself up to the leisurely movement of passing waves …

The roar of the fast-moving motors in comparison with our not very fast drift down the drain brought me to my soul, what a sadness … Although the mood to this point was militant … But all one can see the motors took with them and the favor of the taiga gods before this protecting our hard and difficult way…

An hour passed our movement downstream, after another turn of the river we leave on a long straight line of water clamped on both sides by high hills. Daytime, but the evening sun fry as for nothing … Ready to row until sunset, no matter how they decided to go to the record in the morning, but the weather in the taiga is not predictable. It seems that both the sun and the clouds are not there … We fall into some kind of “air pipe” … The wind is just whistling around us, rowing with all our strength, but not with the fact that we are moving forward, even blows the winds backwards … We fought with the wind for forty minutes, demolished us for this time meters for three hundred against the current … We take a decision, for today, although there is still time before sunset to finish the transition. Plus on the map on the shore there is a key, here and we’ll spend the night … We dock, even boats without riders with such gusts of wind are hard to pull along the shore to the place of unloading.

But they coped, “parked”, unloaded the cargo, the bivouac near the stream was broken in the shortest possible time. Again, the “ambush” and the unpredictability of the weather in the taiga, just settled down, lit a fire … And immediately the wind died down, there was a complete calm and then it began … Buzzing from all sides … Hordes of a huge huge hunger armada attacked us … “Komareks” saves only for seven or ten minutes, then they’re eating … The birthday party put on a mosquito net, we moved closer to the fire, we fell fir branches, the smoke slightly weakened the attacks of the taiga gnat … We do not get used to … Normally … The main thing is that whatever stings in the eye or in the lip … And today Dnyuha as not to Gifts for … … presents a large folding saw … (I have all this time toting in a backpack). He’s just glad. Immediately took it to try …

The result is … The firewood is full, the fire is burning, we must prepare a festive dinner. I go, I open the “nest egg” – a bag with products from the cache … But this I did not expect … With a quick movement of my hand I open a lightning bolt from the bag … And from there I get such a perfume, and directly to my face … I try not to breathe deeply, I go through packages … Products practically all the cereals are swollen and smell is not at all appetizing, the rusks are sour, the noodles are limp, the candy, the chocolate is eaten in mice, the last loaves of bread are all mold, the cigarettes are simple porridge … It was necessary to sort out the food earlier, to see the last rain, Products … Full kikoz … On about atny way now we do not have enough food even when austerity.

This prospect has spoiled our festive mood a little … But … There are still pores in the flasks … Plus, there was “fire water” … They nakili for the health of the birthday boy, life was normal, found 2 kg of flour untouched by water, plus canned food. Big volunteered to do Matsu … And started to cook …

Preparing Matzah was not such a simple matter, but opening the penultimate bank of peas and they, having bitten the case, went more fun.

At the output, the food turned out to be simply magnificent. After reviewing and sorting over the remaining products we had for eating, we realized that with austerity, people can reach us, the benefit remains for a maximum of two days, perhaps we will meet one. On that and decided. Today is a holiday in honor of the Great, we finish all the chocolate-laden chocolate, cook soup in a large bowler of salted, not-soaked cereals, and then … How hard will it lead …

The holiday was a success, they ate, that the products would not disappear from the “belly”. Tomorrow again on the road, we hope that there will be good weather …

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