Out on the ice, I do not believe their eyes: almost all zherlitsy sticking flags
Photo: Alexander Tokarev
Gone, they had shot firecrackers and champagne cork New Year holidays. At last… This idea became a major in the last days of forced idleness and prolonged. And the pocket, quite frankly, was not too burdened by following these sparkling days of fun and lavish spending. We walked as if the apocalypse be done tomorrow, but today everything is possible.
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When the obsession over, it became clear that before going to work there for two days in the pockets… has already been said, but fishing would be desirable so that the Green Line – these annoying guys – I felt sick. Their compassion, we, of course, did not need. During the holidays tired… But when calculated with Sergei, how much will cost Big game fishing on the Volga River, we realized that not afford. Even on the phone I could hear Comrade thoughtfully scratching his head. I scratched this known in Russia the subject of inspiration. Turnip still called.
– So what? – slowly and I ask rhetorically.
– And I know? – I heard in response as sluggish and not positive.
And suddenly, like a revelation from above, it’s simple:
– Serge Makhno the lake!
– So there is now only a runny nose but wolves.
– And what we want? You’ll see, at least for a ski run from them, get some air, and the fish since that year in the freezer is. We do not go for the fish.
– What a thought!
Reinforced gnashing their heads stopped and we began to gather.
Forestry is the lake, lost among the pine forests and moss cranberry winter sleep, like most mezhdyunnyh peat lakes. Only nicking scrupulously and capriciously perch with a finger, rarely larger. Animates the lake thaws, and then not for long. Knowing his character sleepy, we went to the lake without much hope to catch. And although our path on wet thaw the snow was heavy, it was attended by the smells and sounds of a pine forest. From sharp-tart infusion of wild rosemary needles and thawed a little dizzy from the low sky falling snow and rolled somewhere tender – «tlin, KRUN». Severe crows have spring-bowed and was talking with his girlfriend. And it came to us well in these lonely sounds, the smell of pine needles and soft warm silence around, especially after the hustle and bustle of city streets, fires and explosions of firecrackers.
While crude churned snow and broke through the trail to the lake, the day darkened and became gray-blue from the same blue puffy clouds lying on the pines. Sergei drilled the wells at the reeds and sat idly looking around the neighborhood and sipping tea from a thermos. On biting did not expect. But what is it? A nod of my fishing rods, thrown carelessly from wells, shallow suddenly trembled, and then abruptly caved down. Hooking! .. Okunishka palm! Bites followed constantly, like a forest lake perch just us and waited.
– How about you? – Sergei asked, without turning around.
– Sanya, pecking like enraged. I do not have time to shoot. Trolling twitching.
– So here, like, I do not take a perch trolling in gluhozime.
– Look yourself.
I turned around. Sure enough fellow, as if from the aquarium takes perch over and over again. I moved trolling: pinned the silver with a small red bead and troynichkom. Thus, for the experiment. A perch angrier began to peck.
Soon we bothered to drag coins. And we went to put zherlitsy, are not hoping to grasp a sleepy winter pike. Rather, the desire to do something. And it turned out that he was tired of the holidays Serge forgot zherlitsy. Well, it’s already familiar comrade would never forget to bring along «little white» – is sacred. And Tackle…
– Hands will be caught? – I asked sarcastically. – Or muzzle? Unshaven…
– Duc, put, like, zherlitsy. I do not know what happened? ..
And then I remembered a tricky design of Soviet zherlitsy still Journal «Fisheries». I do not remember what was preferred in the title… I give a portion of their blame Serege zherlitsy, and then we are fellow masters quite wild tackle. We seek to shore, more or less smooth, dry pine and master of them zherlitsy-shifters. On one end of a pine stump wound with fishing line sinker, leash and a tee, and the other, more subtle part is signaling a bite. A thin rod with a piece of fishing we cling rag. All this ridiculous gear based on chopped twigs, and when overturns snap into the hole, triumphantly signaling biting fluttering cloth smeared with fish slime.
Zherlitsy apart and went into the forest – cook overnight. Mud huts here did not yet exist. It was only Balaganchik without a roof. Some of the walls, bunks and fireplace in the middle. Well, we spent the night on the ice, a night just a joy. The roof will be the starry sky if cleared. Mangled dry alder, fuses campfire, nodyu lay down at night, drank fresh tea, and the time is still bright.
– Walk, perhaps, to zherlitsy? – Sergei lazily suggest, however, without being reluctant to knead the raw snow in the woods.
– A ceremony, – surprisingly easy comrade agrees. And we swearing and breaking twigs under the snow, wandered to the lake.
Photo: Alexander Tokarev
Out on the ice, do not believe their eyes: almost all zherlitsy sticking flags. Between proudly raised red flags plebeian-obsequiously waved homemade dirty rags… Some zherlitsy scaffold was unwound to the end. From this we took two large pike and two smaller ones. The remaining fish nakolovshis, threw bait unwound the line by half. But the big surprise was waiting for us at the hole where there was one of the homemade. Rather tricky to zherlitsy cheese thaw the snow remained only flourishes knots, which relied tackle… Black-headed miracle pike, flaunting zolotocheshuistoy silischey, vmyali these pine knots-support in the hole and went along with tackle… Here’s a sleepy forest and lake, provincial slumbering far away from civilization! A depth of lake in just one and a half or two meters…
Barely had time to correct gear, to spread baits and night has fallen and black and soft, like a heavy curtain. It is time for the night.
The Puppet Show by the fire and shkvorchyaschey sausage in a skillet just been talk: tomorrow, hapnet? And it came warm confidence – hapnet! .. Not often and not everyone is called to a blind commandments, keep their green-eyed host-Leshakov, but this time Pike Lake Forest – our. At least the ones that are now tossed in the snow at the Puppet Show.
Alexander Tokarev, Yoshkar-Ola15 February 2011 at 15:36