Autumn fishing

Night lights of New York, the azure coast of the Canary Islands, the Moon and Mars all this of course is beautiful, but pretty darn far. When I get tired of gray city I go fishing, but not on that where the sea of ​​vodka and endless waiting bites sitting in one place, and what a mountain creek where that would catch some fish in the ear have to pass more than one kilometer over rough terrain. < br />



In order to catch at least something should be spudded away from civilization, and here I was always envious of the owners of jeeps and helicopters. Puddles in which drown not surprising, streams have left deep scars in the form of gullies, clay, which, in principle, jeeps and sometimes sit on the bridges.





As a result, the car has to give up and go to the journey on foot to the river.





Half an hour walk and now she awaited the river.



A couple of times, and cast a line that does not catch me here, and hornblende, Meet grayling (lat. Thymallus). Small, but incredibly tasty as the ear and fried, and if yes zavyalit a beer, uh ...



Everything, nothing more bite had to go up the river.





Weather cloudy, fishermen will understand that in this weather at first did not bite and do not bite, and then in general as breaks. Therefore I propose to admire the river itself.









In the hour of X, the fish start to dabble for a fisherman to float tackle this means that fishing today is over. Non-stop clicking his shutter dish soap failed to document a single splash.



Actually modest result, it remains clean and can go home.



This here is my hobby, thank you for your attention))

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