Bashny.Net
Chernobyl on the bike (49 photos)
Bashny.Net
From the blog zapret-no - The other day I decided to take a trip to the Chernobyl zone. Since I'm used to traveling on a motorcycle, bus tours legitimate me not in the least attracted. Other ways to Zone closed, but as Socrates used to say, "the wise do not need the law, he has a reason." Armed with this saying anything to anyone without saying (so as not to sow doubt in my wisdom), I collected snyaryazhenie and moved to the north.
further, the wilder grew edge. Increasingly stuck ruins of withered grass. At last on the track refueling I stopped to fill a full tank, because on civilization ended. Surly inhabitants nameless shabby gas station rednekov reminded of "Easy Rider».
By mid-afternoon I approached the border zone. After consulting with the card, I turned into the woods and zapetlyal secret paths. Primer brought into the field, found itself in the barbed wire, and the hoof, skirting the area around. Feel the dense rows of spines, I walked along the border. Sometimes there are gaps for pedestrians, but the bike was nowhere to squeeze. Vigilantly watching for patrols, I drove for miles. Finally got a good tunnel, covered with sloppy stranded wire. Motorcycle hid in the bushes, I began to unravel the loop. Distant rumble caught my attention. Far field plume of dust raised machine, and go straight at me. Crouching, I ran to the motorcycle. Noise getting louder, closer, and suddenly already quite close gritted brake, and all was quiet. Blood pounded in his ears. The door slammed. "Going to give up, or enjoy the last seconds of freedom?" - I asked the question. Steps stranger rustling in the sand.
The door slammed again. Buzzed starter, the engine roared, and the sound began to move away. In the wide gap between the trees drove old "Niva". If the guy behind the wheel turned his head, he would have seen me, crouching behind a motorcycle. When the noise died down car, I gasped. My hour has not yet come.
I undid the remaining coils of wire, summed up the bike to the perimeter, ducked under the barbed wire and jumped out on the other side.
Within the zone and the sky turned bluer and the grass is juicy - as in "Stalker" Tarkovsky. In ten meters behind the fence the forest began. According to the map, in this place deep zones had to leave the road. And really - could be seen among the trees mossy track. I tape strapped to the handlebars radiometer and plunged into the thicket.
Forest proved quite unfriendly. Traces of the road quickly resorbed and I ended up in the remote wilds, littered with fallen trees. I crawled to the logs on a log in first gear, rode large fallen trunks, fell a couple of times. Referring to the map, I was bursting right through the thicket to the nearest village. My plan was simple: there must have been preserved remains of roads, should I take them to the next village, and so on. Indeed, I jumped out first on a sandy clearing, then this forest road and fun zatarahtel forward. More on the way met the fallen trees, but I jumped and rode on the move. Along the road was a row of rotten Stob power lines, background radiation was lower in Kiev.
Forest parted, and I was in the village. From the crooked rose bush huts and fences thinning. Inside the houses reigned ruin - even plank floors were torn and broken. It was already evening, it was time to look for a place to sleep. Overnight in dreary haunted house did not appeal, so I went on.
Driving along the track, I saw in front of a huge boar. Boar's snout lifted from the ground and stared fiercely and bewildered. "Now he has to get scared and run away," - I thought. Kaban no hurry. Stop. Maybe I should be frightened and run away? "- I doubt. Boar turned and skipped disappeared in the thicket. Relieved.
I also went deep into the forest, pulled a hammock, a snack and began packing. Through the mesh upper hammock incredible number of stars shone - so I've only seen a child, and then in the planetarium. Often flashed meteors ... Only bad thoughts distract from this beautiful picture: I have heard, as if in Zone usual mass of wolves. Imagination painted a picture: I sniff peacefully in a hammock, and are brought together around silently ring gray shadows, and heard only as saliva dripping from stinking mouths ... With these thoughts I fell asleep.
Firefighters ponds are often found in the zone. Background with them 2 times higher than the permissible norm - radiometer shows 0, 6 microsieverts per hour. 10 meters away - and the background is normal.
Early in the morning I went further into the Zone. One after another, I passed several abandoned villages. Silence, deaf thickets, open doors, piles of logs and broken bricks. It was like in the movies about the world after a nuclear war, only without the contrived mutants and cannibals - just nature, erasing traces of man.
Nature made itself felt very directly - increasingly had to go around the huge pile of moose droppings. On the outskirts of one of the villages I startled and very moose - a large carcass Rushed through the thickets.
The farther from the border, the more intact were at home, escape the hands of looters. There is a difference between abandoned houses, in which, taken all right, just stopped living, houses and flee, as here, in the Zone. In frames shine entire glass, furniture in homes worth hang things on hooks. And the most terrible - photos. On the floor, on the walls, in the framework, in albums - everywhere scattered pictures. Wade shivers when I imagined the people who fled in such a hurry that left behind even that.
I moved on - in a ten-zone.
They say that people live in the Zone. Never seen one, although it may be. But not in the ten-zone - the zone of unconditional resettlement. Once it has been fenced and guarded. Now there were only fallen columns, rusty barbed wire on the ground and empty concrete houses PPC.
At the entrance to the border area ten-I saw towering above the forest huge lattice abandoned radar station "Chernobyl - 2". I rounded the forest field, and felt in the open space is very uncomfortable - as if someone is watching very closely, and writes in a notebook. So I turned with relief to the thicket to the nearest clearing. The path went away from the radar, and my gas tank pretty felt better, so I reluctantly gave up the search paths to bypass "Chernobyl - 2", and went where the road led.
Prosek put on the fresh asphalt. Could be seen near the concrete fence with neatly wound on top of barbed wire, and behind it - a large area with a complex of buildings. I cautiously approached. Map in this place means "object" Vector "- the enterprise for radioactive waste. Lights, exclusion zone, the forest is cut down to a few tens of meters around the fence - I did not want to be a hero, so quietly turned and disappeared among the trees.
Avoiding the paved road, I moved on. Wide, covered with loose sand clearing conducted between the dense fir walls until the glade opened not seem yellow armored personnel carrier - I arrived at the burial of contaminated equipment.
Complex "Vector"
I dismounted and walked between the rusty Hulk. From time to time the ominous creaking forced to shudder - the wind fluctuated bent steel sheets and open doors on hinges calloused.
The bulk of the equipment was neatly fenced with barbed wire on a concrete pad, but chaos reigned around the fence. Crumpled trucks, fire trucks, armored personnel carriers rolled indentation into each other, as victims of the last decisive battle. If drivers tried to break away in full before you throw technique. Demolished pillars, crushed belly armored personnel carriers buses climbed the pile of scrap trucks - it smacked distant echo unhealthy daring fun of people who are all already in the drum.
Radiometer clicked too often - background passes for 1 microsieverts. Stay long here did not want to, so I'm at a pace crawled under barbed wire and plunged into the streets running between straddling technique.
Otsnimav outlandish arrangements, I went back to the motorcycle. Something was wrong, felt a vague anxiety. The castle was sticking the key - it turns out, I left the ignition on and the battery lamp devoured without a trace. Starter button clicked powerless.
Ominous creaking in the wind skewed door adjacent truck.
Space alien ships rusting in the general pile.
Chernobyl mutants tried to keep in armored chambers wrapped in barbed wire. Everything was useless ...
The instrument panel is not lit, the starter does not work. I wiped his cold sweat. Fortunately, I have a Kick. Unfortunately, a motorcycle with a horseradish zavedёsh. Until that day, I was able to quick Start with a kick only once, and then - the bike was very hot, just muffled. I pushed the lever Kick, and proceeded. Technology is to perch on the bike and kick kick with all the dope, the whole mass of the body. Half an hour later, when I became tired and discouraged, the engine suddenly roared. Relieved.
I moved to the border zones away from where I entered into it. The way lay through the overgrown road, barely visible trail under power lines, abandoned villages and country towns. Debris of fallen trees had to go round right through the forest. In fact, the Zone has a network of relatively well-kept roads - they connect Chernobyl and Pripyat with the border checkpoint. Movement on these routes can not be called lively, but a chance to get there, so I carefully avoided them.
Many hours of crawling on impassable jungle convinced of the greatness of nature. If humanity suddenly disappear in 20 years it will be possible to find traces, not without difficulty.
According to the map, I approached the checkpoint, located in an abandoned village within the zone. I traveled to outlying village streets, jumped out on the road and turned around. Far behind I could see the red and white barrier. Grinning happily, I gave the gas and sped forward - to the border was only a few kilometers.
Near the exit path was blocked by a barricade of scrap iron. Leave was possible, it was necessary only to scatter debris rusty wire. I started to work, calm and measured. I was absolutely sure that all danger is over and I am in no danger.
It was not there.
I picked up an armful of rusty wire, which blocks the exit from the Zone, and saw a man in camouflage. "Christ is risen!" - Said the border guard, and put your bike on the pavement. It was Easter. Relax, I forgot that the border with Belarus is organized around the perimeter zones, so that within the zone guarded by the police, and the outside - the army.
I looked at the gun on his belt and border guard Picture This: I drive a motorcycle behind me on the bike border guard, and bullets hiss. Presenting it, I decided to give up and began a true story: "I was driving, riding, enjoy nature ... I do not know how I got here, a chance event." I convinced the border guard - he called the cops with the most sincere regret.
It was getting dark. From the depths of the Zone prizhuzhzhal policeman on a scooter. The young lieutenant immediately began to build a tough guy. Poorat me, to cry to the border guard, searched my things. With a DSLR with three lenses Lieutenant issued cheer. "You're a journalist!" I honestly did not, but not convinced. Lieutenant threatened me with severe penalties, promised to call the SBU and shook his head. "It is wrong you had chosen a target for the article, the second best do not you be a journalist!" - He lamented about my fate. Souvenirs from the area of my things is not found, press card too, so 3 years for looting and reportёrstvo does not threaten me - only 400 hryvnia administrative fine.
Lieutenant sat me passenger, and we went to the checkpoint, by which I so famously slipped. Began to make out the administrative record, talking. "On patrol, sometimes, wolves see on 40 goals!" - Scared me lieutenant. When he began to remember "But winter took a group of stalkers in camouflage ...", I finally relaxed. This is a game for them - "stalkers & quot; escape, the police caught, and all fun.
I was handed a paper about my abuse, showed a direct way, and I went into the night. At the next checkpoint I shook the paper and explained that I had already caught and branded. At 4 am I was in Kiev.
Source
further, the wilder grew edge. Increasingly stuck ruins of withered grass. At last on the track refueling I stopped to fill a full tank, because on civilization ended. Surly inhabitants nameless shabby gas station rednekov reminded of "Easy Rider».
By mid-afternoon I approached the border zone. After consulting with the card, I turned into the woods and zapetlyal secret paths. Primer brought into the field, found itself in the barbed wire, and the hoof, skirting the area around. Feel the dense rows of spines, I walked along the border. Sometimes there are gaps for pedestrians, but the bike was nowhere to squeeze. Vigilantly watching for patrols, I drove for miles. Finally got a good tunnel, covered with sloppy stranded wire. Motorcycle hid in the bushes, I began to unravel the loop. Distant rumble caught my attention. Far field plume of dust raised machine, and go straight at me. Crouching, I ran to the motorcycle. Noise getting louder, closer, and suddenly already quite close gritted brake, and all was quiet. Blood pounded in his ears. The door slammed. "Going to give up, or enjoy the last seconds of freedom?" - I asked the question. Steps stranger rustling in the sand.
The door slammed again. Buzzed starter, the engine roared, and the sound began to move away. In the wide gap between the trees drove old "Niva". If the guy behind the wheel turned his head, he would have seen me, crouching behind a motorcycle. When the noise died down car, I gasped. My hour has not yet come.
I undid the remaining coils of wire, summed up the bike to the perimeter, ducked under the barbed wire and jumped out on the other side.
Within the zone and the sky turned bluer and the grass is juicy - as in "Stalker" Tarkovsky. In ten meters behind the fence the forest began. According to the map, in this place deep zones had to leave the road. And really - could be seen among the trees mossy track. I tape strapped to the handlebars radiometer and plunged into the thicket.
Forest proved quite unfriendly. Traces of the road quickly resorbed and I ended up in the remote wilds, littered with fallen trees. I crawled to the logs on a log in first gear, rode large fallen trunks, fell a couple of times. Referring to the map, I was bursting right through the thicket to the nearest village. My plan was simple: there must have been preserved remains of roads, should I take them to the next village, and so on. Indeed, I jumped out first on a sandy clearing, then this forest road and fun zatarahtel forward. More on the way met the fallen trees, but I jumped and rode on the move. Along the road was a row of rotten Stob power lines, background radiation was lower in Kiev.
Forest parted, and I was in the village. From the crooked rose bush huts and fences thinning. Inside the houses reigned ruin - even plank floors were torn and broken. It was already evening, it was time to look for a place to sleep. Overnight in dreary haunted house did not appeal, so I went on.
Driving along the track, I saw in front of a huge boar. Boar's snout lifted from the ground and stared fiercely and bewildered. "Now he has to get scared and run away," - I thought. Kaban no hurry. Stop. Maybe I should be frightened and run away? "- I doubt. Boar turned and skipped disappeared in the thicket. Relieved.
I also went deep into the forest, pulled a hammock, a snack and began packing. Through the mesh upper hammock incredible number of stars shone - so I've only seen a child, and then in the planetarium. Often flashed meteors ... Only bad thoughts distract from this beautiful picture: I have heard, as if in Zone usual mass of wolves. Imagination painted a picture: I sniff peacefully in a hammock, and are brought together around silently ring gray shadows, and heard only as saliva dripping from stinking mouths ... With these thoughts I fell asleep.
Firefighters ponds are often found in the zone. Background with them 2 times higher than the permissible norm - radiometer shows 0, 6 microsieverts per hour. 10 meters away - and the background is normal.
Early in the morning I went further into the Zone. One after another, I passed several abandoned villages. Silence, deaf thickets, open doors, piles of logs and broken bricks. It was like in the movies about the world after a nuclear war, only without the contrived mutants and cannibals - just nature, erasing traces of man.
Nature made itself felt very directly - increasingly had to go around the huge pile of moose droppings. On the outskirts of one of the villages I startled and very moose - a large carcass Rushed through the thickets.
The farther from the border, the more intact were at home, escape the hands of looters. There is a difference between abandoned houses, in which, taken all right, just stopped living, houses and flee, as here, in the Zone. In frames shine entire glass, furniture in homes worth hang things on hooks. And the most terrible - photos. On the floor, on the walls, in the framework, in albums - everywhere scattered pictures. Wade shivers when I imagined the people who fled in such a hurry that left behind even that.
I moved on - in a ten-zone.
They say that people live in the Zone. Never seen one, although it may be. But not in the ten-zone - the zone of unconditional resettlement. Once it has been fenced and guarded. Now there were only fallen columns, rusty barbed wire on the ground and empty concrete houses PPC.
At the entrance to the border area ten-I saw towering above the forest huge lattice abandoned radar station "Chernobyl - 2". I rounded the forest field, and felt in the open space is very uncomfortable - as if someone is watching very closely, and writes in a notebook. So I turned with relief to the thicket to the nearest clearing. The path went away from the radar, and my gas tank pretty felt better, so I reluctantly gave up the search paths to bypass "Chernobyl - 2", and went where the road led.
Prosek put on the fresh asphalt. Could be seen near the concrete fence with neatly wound on top of barbed wire, and behind it - a large area with a complex of buildings. I cautiously approached. Map in this place means "object" Vector "- the enterprise for radioactive waste. Lights, exclusion zone, the forest is cut down to a few tens of meters around the fence - I did not want to be a hero, so quietly turned and disappeared among the trees.
Avoiding the paved road, I moved on. Wide, covered with loose sand clearing conducted between the dense fir walls until the glade opened not seem yellow armored personnel carrier - I arrived at the burial of contaminated equipment.
Complex "Vector"
I dismounted and walked between the rusty Hulk. From time to time the ominous creaking forced to shudder - the wind fluctuated bent steel sheets and open doors on hinges calloused.
The bulk of the equipment was neatly fenced with barbed wire on a concrete pad, but chaos reigned around the fence. Crumpled trucks, fire trucks, armored personnel carriers rolled indentation into each other, as victims of the last decisive battle. If drivers tried to break away in full before you throw technique. Demolished pillars, crushed belly armored personnel carriers buses climbed the pile of scrap trucks - it smacked distant echo unhealthy daring fun of people who are all already in the drum.
Radiometer clicked too often - background passes for 1 microsieverts. Stay long here did not want to, so I'm at a pace crawled under barbed wire and plunged into the streets running between straddling technique.
Otsnimav outlandish arrangements, I went back to the motorcycle. Something was wrong, felt a vague anxiety. The castle was sticking the key - it turns out, I left the ignition on and the battery lamp devoured without a trace. Starter button clicked powerless.
Ominous creaking in the wind skewed door adjacent truck.
Space alien ships rusting in the general pile.
Chernobyl mutants tried to keep in armored chambers wrapped in barbed wire. Everything was useless ...
The instrument panel is not lit, the starter does not work. I wiped his cold sweat. Fortunately, I have a Kick. Unfortunately, a motorcycle with a horseradish zavedёsh. Until that day, I was able to quick Start with a kick only once, and then - the bike was very hot, just muffled. I pushed the lever Kick, and proceeded. Technology is to perch on the bike and kick kick with all the dope, the whole mass of the body. Half an hour later, when I became tired and discouraged, the engine suddenly roared. Relieved.
I moved to the border zones away from where I entered into it. The way lay through the overgrown road, barely visible trail under power lines, abandoned villages and country towns. Debris of fallen trees had to go round right through the forest. In fact, the Zone has a network of relatively well-kept roads - they connect Chernobyl and Pripyat with the border checkpoint. Movement on these routes can not be called lively, but a chance to get there, so I carefully avoided them.
Many hours of crawling on impassable jungle convinced of the greatness of nature. If humanity suddenly disappear in 20 years it will be possible to find traces, not without difficulty.
According to the map, I approached the checkpoint, located in an abandoned village within the zone. I traveled to outlying village streets, jumped out on the road and turned around. Far behind I could see the red and white barrier. Grinning happily, I gave the gas and sped forward - to the border was only a few kilometers.
Near the exit path was blocked by a barricade of scrap iron. Leave was possible, it was necessary only to scatter debris rusty wire. I started to work, calm and measured. I was absolutely sure that all danger is over and I am in no danger.
It was not there.
I picked up an armful of rusty wire, which blocks the exit from the Zone, and saw a man in camouflage. "Christ is risen!" - Said the border guard, and put your bike on the pavement. It was Easter. Relax, I forgot that the border with Belarus is organized around the perimeter zones, so that within the zone guarded by the police, and the outside - the army.
I looked at the gun on his belt and border guard Picture This: I drive a motorcycle behind me on the bike border guard, and bullets hiss. Presenting it, I decided to give up and began a true story: "I was driving, riding, enjoy nature ... I do not know how I got here, a chance event." I convinced the border guard - he called the cops with the most sincere regret.
It was getting dark. From the depths of the Zone prizhuzhzhal policeman on a scooter. The young lieutenant immediately began to build a tough guy. Poorat me, to cry to the border guard, searched my things. With a DSLR with three lenses Lieutenant issued cheer. "You're a journalist!" I honestly did not, but not convinced. Lieutenant threatened me with severe penalties, promised to call the SBU and shook his head. "It is wrong you had chosen a target for the article, the second best do not you be a journalist!" - He lamented about my fate. Souvenirs from the area of my things is not found, press card too, so 3 years for looting and reportёrstvo does not threaten me - only 400 hryvnia administrative fine.
Lieutenant sat me passenger, and we went to the checkpoint, by which I so famously slipped. Began to make out the administrative record, talking. "On patrol, sometimes, wolves see on 40 goals!" - Scared me lieutenant. When he began to remember "But winter took a group of stalkers in camouflage ...", I finally relaxed. This is a game for them - "stalkers & quot; escape, the police caught, and all fun.
I was handed a paper about my abuse, showed a direct way, and I went into the night. At the next checkpoint I shook the paper and explained that I had already caught and branded. At 4 am I was in Kiev.
Source
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