Karelian Robinson Bashny.Net

As an intellectual from Moscow planned to spend 20 days in the winter forests of Karelia, built a hut there.

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While fresh experience, I decided to unsubscribe otchёtik, not shelving them.
Yesterday just back from Karelian forests. Plans were - hulk. I wanted and hunting and fishing and at the same time build up for a new hut. And basically I like to recall the old - in those places where it I had my site and I have lived and hunted in the dugout hole so kunichku. Nostalgia tortured, had stayed away from the computer ... And it's time to relax a bit, that would not hand himself imagined, if only for the keyboard to me fastened.
Autumn was wonderful. Long chose the time that would have thrown in the site to date - it is desirable for a week before freeze-up. What would you have time to catch the bait rybёshki and more time to build up to the onset of cold weather. But prevented the plans for the work and the quirks of nature. In short, I was late and missed greatly. From this whole trip went awry.
Well, that is-and it is. It is too late to correct. I'll start from the beginning.
I gathered together out of habit thoroughly. With a take of about 150 kg every payload. These are mainly products and tools, boat, nets, traps. Too heavy for a single, but calmer.
That's all my wealth - even Csernus looks at me with suspicion - an hour if the owner did not move wisely? How he is going to drag it all, I do not if I wanted to harness?



But I have somehow familiar. To the station he helped me get my faithful companion for burbot fishing and institute a good old friend. Drove in his car.
The train brought imperceptibly, one pouch, and when the conductor assessed the volume and gasped that baggage is too much - it was too late))) - the train started.

At the destination station I met another friend - worked together on the expedition. He brought me as much as possible on his way to his car. And then there were no roads - to sail on a boat.
Thank you, friends! What would I do without you?

Has pulled in the dark things in the river, we parted. Comrade went home, and I spent the night on the beach. Tired, so that even the fire did not divorce. Just wrapped in a sleeping bag with his head and fell asleep. At night I heard some rustling on the sleeping bag and realized that the snow falls. Late the same ... with this thought and fell asleep.

A morning was merry. Everything was in the snow.



And inflate the boat soon looked like something not very organically in such a situation.



I have a new boat, wonderful! "Burbot" called. Thank you Misha from the Moscow Commercial Bank "Stalker", which produces such wonderful sudёnyshki here. Without any hesitation I want to advertise its products! Wonderful work "barge". With a length of 4 m 4 accommodates a lot of load, and thus itself weighs 9 5 kg! Just a dream tramp single.



But you have to hurry. Yesterday, in the dark, I only saw that the river is not frozen and happy. But it turned out that it is not cold, only a small cove and swim away huge ice fields.
Here I stand, keep the paddle,
a moment later pushed off ...



Problems arose at once - do not come to shore.



I find the very narrow bridge and scatter, trying to make out of the boat Icebreaker:



Desperately flailing left and right paddle, break through the narrow passage into the thin ice and burst into the open water. But back to rustling merge parted ice fields ... broken. The first attempt was successful.



But then less lucky. Slowly pushing rafting and dangerous floes, I was annoyed at his delay. Little by little, but closer to their destination.
And then the next thing - the coastal landfast ice was much stronger ice floes. Half an hour of furious chopping and not allowed to come close to the shore. And out of the boat can not - can not withstand the weight of the ice. Several times tried, but wisely retreated.



It remains the only option - rafting on for Riptide to lesosplavnoy old dam. There has not obmёrzli shore because of the rapid current. But a laden boat did not want to be put into the mouth of the dam. In itself, a quick boat for not threatened, but the old dam, all in nails and sharp pieces of iron. A speed run into heavy board on a nail or an old warped paneling lesosplavnogo tray - that perspektivka more. Do not have time to gasp as drown precious cargo without which Amba ...
I decided not to risk it and do not try to slip between the dangerous old columns with protruding nails



While choosing the method as it hit the beach, floating ice fields I made a gift. Under the action of wind parted for a moment, opening a small passage, and I could quickly slip into it and safely moor to shore



A few minutes later, the river seemed to keep the charter corridor, closed my eyes on the huge ice floes and ice has finally linked up. Until spring. Managed!!! And as always, at the last moment ... when will I learn to count time?



I throw out things on the shore and pulled happy sudёnyshko ashore. Immediately I began to drag things. Prior to the dugout, where I lived for fifteen years ago, just three hundred meters. That's the place where they used to be my home ... hunting little left of it ((



An urgent need to drag supplies and make a temporary home. But first I want to drink tea. Weather something frowns again and the sky begins to fall either, or drip. Also I can not wait to try out my new stove, specially purchased for the occasion.
Here it is beautiful! Stainless steel - no burns, and weighs only 6 kg. And traction control system is great. You can set a very long and efficient combustion.



Tea, as you can see, on a miracle the stove to boil in minutes)))



While chaёvnichal beginning to get dark quickly. And I sit all steeped in memories of the past. Hardly recovered from the nostalgic memories, he shook himself. It's time to get down to business, however.
The three pines added a column and began to build the framework of its future shelter.



From the sky rained actively Chernuha snow and climbed into a box with food, waiting for the end of construction. Wow what a poohranyat it?



Soon, soon, what is not covered with snow, I began to construct in haste, anyhow, anyhow "house godfather Pumpkins." All the same time, I thought, forgetting the wise proverb - "There is nothing more permanent than temporary»)))
Put quickly stove, he poured a drop of alcohol brownie, that would not hurt us with the dog, and stuffed the stove woodfuel blissfully asleep under the cover of plastic walls.



A snow raged outside. A couple of times during the night to get up and knock on the taut roof that would shake the snow. And selling uneven hour film and then we cover everything.

That's about as undeveloped. In the corner by the door of the stove, a pot with water from the nearest Lamba, firewood ...



In the far corner of the most valuable stuff all piled in a heap.



In the morning, barely having time to vyhlebat mug of hot coffee, of course I ran to the exploration of lands.
Here on these logs I always stood kapkanchiki



Small, cluttered and fast streams that connect the lakes to the river - a heavenly place for mink



But it's time to come back from a walk and start construction of a more serious housing. First of all it is necessary to make yourself work tool.
Where getting away without a good and strong sledgehammer? A favorite Russian instrument. They say using it, and some public statements, we can make all that your heart desires))



He took with him two brand-new ax for testing. A carpenter, Nizhny Novgorod "Work - Vacha", while the second seems that some German «STAYER». German me at once as it is not liked, but I fell in Nizhny Novgorod. Easily sharpened it, so much so that the hair on your arm neatly shaved and kept him for the most delicate work. A German chopping firewood and everything else did.
Without a shovel, but also anywhere ... I started with excavation work, because the weather whispers that a little more and the land grab frost and then there is not so easy to rummage.
And very loud whispers, among other things. I realized that you need to hurry up and torn between hunting and the construction site.
Especially after the first attempts to dig. As soon dug a small hole, and stones from it eversion had a pretty decent bunch of ... If this thing goes on, then perhaps I naman ...
(Oh, my long-suffering back back ... red bristle)))



Dreams that I nalovlyu mountain fish for bait-nakrohi vanished like smoke. To put the network in this weather I did not dare. He remembered his past experience of youth - when exposed mesh frozen into a night at a young crust of ice, and I was shaking with fear, crawled on his belly disembarrass a nurse from the ice prison. Oh, and then I nakupalis of youth but of stupidity ... Now so do not risk.

Nevertheless, some sort of fish I had, and I decided to put the iron even this pitiful bait. Anyway, already I began to understand that intelligent fishing this season, did not anticipate. But I still spend time with maximum benefits.



My house, which I have nicknamed "the aquarium" turned out to be very cozy abode.
Spahr stove day and night, not allowing room vystuzhat



On the second day, I amassed a sturdy plank that would not sleep on the ground



and even had time to indulge in a pochityvaniya book with a mug of hot tea in his hands.



And yet I had a receiver, and a piece of bacon wonderfully! These two good friend gave me no rework, and I made myself a lunch break at a construction site at the same time with the news and political information that would absolutely not come off from the world))).



However, it soon became not to relax. Frost was intense and bright day in the north is very short. In fact, only 7 hours of daylight and lose it does not. It is very difficult to work - only a "shake", lo and behold, and already dark ...
I had to break mode. Get up at 6 in the morning, breakfast is not just a cup of coffee, the habit of the city, and thoroughly and tightly, which would then not lose light time for lunch.
With the dawn already checked Putikov and swept the snow piled on top of traps, and fled to engage construction project. I do not have time to develop, in full force, as it was getting dark. It should be ready in time means firewood, fetch water. Cooking dinner, dry things and do every chore.
The 16-00 was dark and want-nehochesh climb into the "tank."



Very quickly I realized that such rates do not have time, and began to work in the dark



But to be honest, the night shift of the I and did not work.
So uncomfortable feeling when the batter frozen ground in the moonlight ... could not get rid of burial associations.
I'm still on vacation ... I come to rest. Work something ohotku me, but it would be no analogy with the "Kolyma Tales" Varlam Shalamov Tikhonovich.
And so, I dig deeper cowardly bit of land, he went to the stove and warm dill))).
And chores "at home" were enough.
For example I never thought that I would have to take care because gloves and carefully sew them in the darkness. But where to go? without gloves just simply hand themselves freeze.



And in general, work gloves had to impose hefty linen patch that I carved out pulling out of the poor Chernuhi her litter.
German first ax could not resist Russian dope and fractures. Surely he did not expect that they will chop wood ....
But I quickly recovered. A Nizhny Novgorod, carpenter I still reserved for demanding applications.



That's how the evening went.
And the work has continued with the advent of daylight



But what beautiful sunrises I have met from the pit! )))



One day, digging in the hole, I heard a noise overhead. Pyamo me with the sound of flapping wings and "myavkaniem" clave flock of grouse ShTK thirty!
Kaduchis I began to get out of the hole that would reach out to the gun, but I certainly spotted and with a roar burst from the tops. I remained without production, but experience is still pleasant.
The pit dug under increased slowly but steadily. Chernuha came every morning to see how the work is moving and everything was waiting when I finally build her warm booth?



My back violently protested against such exploitation, after sleeping on hard bunks, but after ejecting the top of the next huge kamenyugi probably resigned and sob, hopelessly silenced.
I just counted kubometrazh schebёnki made at the surface and kept going - and not whether it would be easier to lay down their wall of logs? According to the final size of the pit, 8 cubic meters I still upward to shovel ... And this weight must be Pobol 15 tons of soil! I'm just a monster, which then! )))



Still, the construction of the dugout - it is less time consuming than the frame. And most importantly - the forest is a pity. I do not want to bring down these old pine trees for timber. Also, I very quickly realized that drag on itself raw 3, 5 meter logs is not easier than to throw a shovel bit of land))). With the first brought by the same laid crown and I quickly enlightened.)))
Sometimes the weather is changing, the wind was blowing. The chimney blew smoke pushing back and my "aquarium" turned into a gas chamber. I had to adapt to the pipe here is such a piece of dry pine bark as a reflector of the wind. Stove immediately calmed down and rather growled, devouring wood.



In the morning, I still continued to find time for hunting and fishing, but less and less. obstinate thought to build housing haunted and not leave free time.
New Snow brings some inconvenience. With branches he constantly poured by the lapels raised Bolotnikov and melted there. Therefore, despite the high boots, every time I came with wet pants and socks. And to work with wet feet very chilly. We had another night to pull out from under the remains of dog litter and get yourself a flirty skirt here.)))
Not "Pleated-ribbed", of course, but now I was returning from the forest with dry feet.



But in the forest it was just wonderful. Install the sunny weather.



I expose burbot zherlitsy ...



A dog found another beaver hut. Beaver True to her and did not leave, and the ice in the hollow poiskh output for setting the trap I did not. Late so late. Let yourself calm winters.



Such a clear course the weather has brought real and frost. Never in November this was not ... Whenever the season ends, it was no lower than 12-15 degrees, and then immediately knocked minus 18 early in the season ... That is because climate vagaries.
Doggie protesting that remained without litter became huddle to the stove and mesmerize zamёrshuyu beer ...



My heart kind))). So, indulging the whims Chernukhin, I ran it on the bench, on top of a warm sleeping bag.
Moreover, she had a birthday, and in honor of this great holiday, I spent the whole day baldet let her warm and entertained all sorts of goodies.



But my festive beer never thawed ...
Added after 16 minutes:
But we are not allowed to freeze a wonderful oven.
Just look how she glowed, in the mode of active burning !!!



I've become seriously fear for fire hazard. Whether a joke? A sort of glowing cube at his feet! His boots PVC away from sin, I hung up on a nail. However, it still did not save ... Heel unnoticed still leaned against the tube and poplavilsya small, but it does not matter.
But the gala dinner of buckwheat, but with bacon, but with fried onions, after a frosty day was simply incomparable !!!



Separately, I want to say that more than anything on this trip I was afraid of fire. Here too, if that happens, then certainly you can die! Frost we also have clothing and inexhaustible supply of firewood and stove, and a lot of things. And if all Pohorje, it remains practically "unarmed," as if naked among night frost forest ... Here it goes through your remaining virtually at the clock ... it was terrible even to think about it ...

Yet the little incident I have not escaped.
One day, zagotavlivaya wood I have not noticed how zatlela litter under the stove. Then came the first flames ... Rescued Nigella!

Through the roar of the chainsaw, I heard strange sounds. not barking, even, but what that "vyakanie" with a whine. Such sounds she sometimes utters, angry at its own tail and playing wants to get it. I was very surprised that it was she? Fearing that she prichuyala wolves I dropped the saw and ran to her voice. And in time. The flames had licked all the dried moss on the floor, the tent was full of smoke, and ran out the door dog loudly indignant that she was not allowed to sleep peacefully.

Then I began to listen more attentively to publish it sounds like a couple of times and she warned me that on the stove undercooked fried onions until I was read an interesting book and forgot
about preparing dinner. Amazing! Probably, it is not like the smell of burning.

Meanwhile, the cold is something broke out in earnest. Never in November this was not. Bon Appetit!



































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