The vacation came to an end, and we decided to move to the place of our last year’s very convenient Parking lot, located in a dry place in a tiny Cove, covered from two sides by cliffs. In the center of its sand beach on five persons in the fringe of the wild onion blooming. And the surroundings to open these types…
During our absence here has changed. The gaze was involuntarily drawn to the figure standing near the hut of somnologov. It was carved from larch. Flat cut made by a saw, completed her head at a height of about five feet from the ground. Over the rest of bother the hands of the unknown Carver. He clearly had in mind the statues of Easter island, which had a huge noses and ears. But the building material is not enough, and it turned out only a huge nose, which does not compensate thin, compressed ears.
To top off the ugliness, the idol came into the world with a delicate spider handles. In a word, was quite ugly and contemptuous smile did the trick – scared animals and people. On his forehead was adorned with the word LENA. This name strangely coincides with the name of genisoy wife. LENA was on combat duty and served properly. Until the end of the holiday no one, even in the dark, did not dare to put up a tent near us.
One day, when the night dawn I went to the lake of the sparse grass that grew near the shore, rushed something. It is something created in front of a powerful breaker, forcing him to involuntarily shudder.
We have seen in the past in the lake, the silhouettes of some huge fish, EN route to great depths over the shoals of sarogi, but to witness them failed. And here we had the chance to see maybe one of them. Two days ago we met with taiga hunter and his dog and now again met them. Dog since our breakup didn’t change the image. Hunter, and it had to be him, tried to glory. He acquired a second head, no less his own, which now towered over his shoulder. The head was crocodile.
Was a hunter, heavy gait, bent legs, privalikhina them. He seemed to be alone, without a partner performed a tango. Tango he is clearly not possible. When he finally potenzial to us, was that the new head has its own body and that it oppresses the hunter.
I not once caught a pike and know exactly how does the pike of eight pounds. But then! At length she was almost on the chest, but in width or in thickness, do not know how better to say, perhaps, any definition will fit. So, in the other direction, she was monstrous. I think pike have frightened even our idol. But he stood dumb, looking with wide open eyes on that horrible creature of the lake, the symbol of which was himself. Still can’t imagine how our friend got it krokodilische and how there’s something a bit off. Don’t know, but he did it and honestly was on the track before us.
I have these pike have never seen before, but I read somewhere that these monsters inhabit in the lakes labynkyr and Vorota somewhere in Yakutia. What was even expedition that tried to locate in these lakes the mysterious plesiosaur. I think the reason for such research was lived in the giant lakes of the pike. And I think that the instance that now lay before us was not the largest of those that dwelt in the Frolikha.
Hunter got rid of his burden, straightened and brightened considerably. He was gone and we were left alone with the huge carcass. From fish, bear it much smaller than ours, caught somewhere in the middle lane, a mile away smelled would be Tina. Ours was originally supposed to be rotten. So we cut a small slice yourself, and the rest of the edifice gave held group. Tourists at first horrified, then excited took the gift. We fry a whole bowl of fish and already prepared to accept torture when I heard the squeak of scattering on the forest chipmunks. It was Grisha, our friend the Chipmunk. He was a competitive guy and every day dispersed to their own kind, which we fed the remnants from the table. It was his everyday job.
Grisha thought about the fact that is has a decent name that will soon change residence and live in my Moscow apartment four years, sharing with me a shelter and a table. He was just walking on the delightful smell of roast pike.
Gregory held a tasting, moved to the second piece. And we cast aside all doubts. The fish was delicious, gorgeous, really! Simply stunning. The bowl was empty at the time. I wanted to rush in pursuit of the departed and take his back, because with such a burden they could not go far. But the nobility prevailed, and we were sitting by the desolate fire, feeling in the mouth, as tasters say, the finish is delicate fatty chicken.
Afterwards I just noticed that the taste of fish depends not only on its size and age as on the quality of the water in which it lives.
PS: the Story describes the events of the beginning of construction of BAM (30 years ago), and when I was preparing the material for printing, it is feared that all is no longer relevant. But was pleasantly surprised to hear that this fantastic place is still preserved. Has not lost its charm, and gives to people who have visited here, beauty, joy, and solid catches.
