Where the hell winter?

"In the summer of 7090 izodysha korkodily lyutii animals out of the river and the way zatvorisha; poyadosha many people. And uhosashasya Molisch ye people, and God in all the earth. And again spryatashasya and inih izbisha. " (Complete Collection of Russian Chronicles, Volume 30, Pskov chronicle of 1582 as presented by the WWW resource elite-pets.narod.ru/an_an_18.htm )

Writes Adrian Kolotilin:

Thousands of pictures were after "Journey Beyond Three Lakes". But dozens of places Polistovsky marsh country have remained unexplored. Surprisingly, there is the Russian Northwest are Tracts, where 30-40 years, people did not come. Blind River Hvalyutinskaya, local Worm is just one of such places.
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At this point of the penalty thickness on the surface of the peat bog emerges Porus river flowing open channel a couple of kilometers and over thousands of years hiding in compacted layers. There beckons us and photographic research interest, because in the winter in the swamp manifestations of life can be observed only at the shores of the mineral on the edge of the swamp or in a large open water. What awaits us is not known nor the director Polistovsky Reserve Mikhail Yablokov or me.
Base Brooks choose dying village, where the cordon of the reserve in which they live and researchers coming summer looks for overnight stays Task Force rangers. Getting to Brooks can only large water or winter, after the freeze quite wide river Stradnitsa. The bridge on the river destroyed for several years. That formed on Lake Polisto a backwater, which was at about fifty kilometers or residential villages no power no definitely not. And in the New Year's holiday by mistake burnt transformer substation, so too there is no electricity, and may never be. Therefore, in our ten-day expedition we have to take everything with them - fuel, food, generator and equipment on sledges, towed by a snowmobile.



Are twenty below. Swamps and lakes did not wish to freeze. With the first cold, who came at the beginning of winter all wrapped around a thick layer of fluffy snow. It prevents frost blanket peat layer, which is impregnated with water like a sponge. This sponge contains 552 billion tons of fresh water (if you take the entire area of ​​the marsh system). In those places where the discharge of water from the swamp in the lake more, there are thinner ice, moreover, it is multi-layered. Under the upper thin layer powdered water, then again ice water again and so on.
Snow this year as much passion. And there is no way to get to the cordon around the lake. Marshy shores, overgrown with willows. Therefore, only on the frozen lake. And now, 800 meters from the shore of the sledge and snowmobile them and penetrate the ice and begins the first bathing. Feed snowmobile plunged along with a backpack, which packed all the photographic equipment. I jump, Stobie Pushpull and disengage the foot going into the water. Boots once soaked with water and covered with ice crust. But keep warm.
While unloaded the sled, pulled "Taiga", verify the path to cordon light, then pulled sledges loaded again - it was evening.



At half past four, all ringing icy crust and icicles starting to develop simple life and then dies a brand new generator. In the darkness we pass on ancient lighting kerosene. I thought that nothing is now charging technology and can, in fact, return to civilization fall asleep ...

In the morning, things are not so bad. We had to read the instructions in the cunning machine. Secret cock blocking fuel supply, it had to be easy to open. The fighting mood begin implementation of a plan exactly. The first point - to find a way to the swamp. Search it in the summer do not have to already dozens of times all this passed. In winter, the track browser can not help us - snowmobile digs into the soft meter of snow, hit the deck and we have five hours to find ourselves in a captive 100 meters from the edge of the swamp into flooded alders. The most unpleasant thing that went down to the iron horse immediately punched thin crust and you find yourself in the water. Even the jerk can not pull the stern heavy machinery, there is no point of support. Helps General Frost - throwing snow into the water, trampling him and waiting for the formation of solid ground. Gradually comes experience, he will not just help out then.



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The great swamp is impossible to get anywhere. For centuries, the exit point to notice attentive people. In Pskov and Novgorod region places called capacious name "Sunset". So even a few former villages on the edge of the great swamp of the country used to be called. His approach we found. Now is the time to look at the beginning of the river Polist course antifreeze.



Frosty clouds of steam from the water, draw a line mink tracks along the river bank.



We put skradok and ready for mink treat.



Steam from the river immediately freezes and forms large crystals of a few centimeters.



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A short day is over. I run a kerosene lamp to illuminate the foreground image. So you do not want to use the flash, it will destroy the image of the harsh light sweet home.



Starry Night. O check point heated hot oven, with boots squeezed the last drops of water flow down. Preparing for tomorrow's march, Mikhail meticulously paving the route, we then moved from OziExplorer to navigators. Tomorrow we go on a mysterious worm, in the heart of the marshes.



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On the morning of the snowstorm reigns over the sheet. The contours of objects in the distance are indistinguishable, it is impossible to remove.



I train at the "kitty", and it beckons with the help of forty seeds and small passerines, to somehow fill the precious time before going into the field.



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Dog boy who is afraid of everyone and everything, too hungry for my seed. But it drove magpies. They say that boy was once a great working dog, otter safely take. But then I met with a visiting fishermen and the nature of his very much changed.



Sun and never will be. Therefore, in any case, we decide to go to the worm, if the wind dies down. And the next day he verse.
Exactly in the middle of the route will have to cross the watercourse podmohovoy. In winter, it is not endless white desert bog pines, without bumps and hollows, with a few islands on the horizon. In summer it sways splavinah under which there is a stream swamp water flowing down from the top. In such a large bogs of the Millennium dome rises over the edge of a dozen meters, growing millimeter per year. Michael squeezes the maximum speed of the snowmobile, something where we fly near puddles of yellow water unfrozen. The main thing - do not brake.



Finally appeared on the horizon a strip less tall trees. On the bog always about open water pine trees grow better. Lake or river shores in the open is better to collect water from the surrounding peat bogs, it becomes a little land. The man did not notice, and pine easier. And it can reach a height of 4-6 meters.

Navigator just brought us to the place where Porus out of moss on the surface. And we stand in amazement. Around what that inhuman place. Dead Forest thousand barrels poked into the gray sky. It is similar to a broken chart of a seismograph during an earthquake. Slate black water quickly flows north. Swamp Gas bubbles in the first window of the river. Curved roots, beard moss dry pine trees, traces of weasel and a huge white-tailed eagle in the sky.
Inhuman beauty and wildness of a monochrome world offers me settle here all the infernal pantheon of Russian swamp - Kikimora, lesavok, devil and mysterious korkodila of Pskov Chronicle. However, during the years of wandering in many swamps, I had never seen them as mythical lights glowing swamp gas. But local who are on duty or his hunting passion had to go to the moss and sleep there, too, they did not come across.



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I noticed an interesting pattern - the swamp never let us just to themselves, without any difficulty. Always believed that the secret places worth some protection against unwelcome, someone else's traveler. She seemed to check the strength - how much are you ready for the visit. On the way to the dull river crumbled starter snowmobile from overheating. Certainly moved quite quickly in an hour, but the fact remains - as in any of the days of forwarding the proposal to turn the house was done. Moreover, under the gaze of a curious jay.



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The following days were marked by grouse. Even at the dawn of a large flock of local Uncle Kolya I noticed on the outskirts of creeks and woke us up. Birds wandered all day zakraykam forests, rolling in the mire pine.



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Conceals grouse with camera lenses (and more impossible in the buffer zone of the reserve) is better on a snowmobile. The big car they do not see the potential of the hunter, but the silhouette of a man is separate from the equipment - just take off.



We tried not to bother the beautiful wild chicken and when they began to prepare for the night, walking through the snow to bury themselves for the night in his warm depth, withdrew.



By evening, a few minutes the sun came out. It is so little in the Northwest, you can expect ten days.

The return was difficult, in the blizzard finally lost any orientation. The gas to failure, and around the white milk without shadows. In this light scattering can not see a trace of a snowmobile, it does not differ wormwood and drifts. Just before the eyes of the navigator Michael tells him something about the direction of motion. I quietly mutter "God help me" - so sincerely, really do not want to bathe lenses, though wrapped in a polyethylene bag. That civilization is represented by teams of fishermen who have 8 years living on the shores of Lake Polisto. And although the old office another 25 kilometers we are at home, on solid ground. And I want to back into the swamp.



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