DAMN FISHING

*You will live long, All!* Instead of an epigraph. I recently put together a boat from aspen and decided to test it in action. I landed on the same river (Chusovaya, area - Boytsy rocks), but somewhere lower flow. However, I did not know and did not know what adventures awaited me that evening, night and morning... DAMN FISHING or FIGHTING Mayhem #2 1. Prerequisites. One day, returning home from work and passing by an overgrown through the weeds of the wasteland, I heard the cheerful chirping of a gray grasshopper (this big blacksmith is 5-10 centimeters long). Well, I thought, since these The jumpers have thawed, you can stock up on them and go fishing for chub... 2. Beginning. Having waited until Saturday, I ran to my favorite river. The way to the “cool” place lay across a clearing where fillies, grasshoppers and other tasty things were found in abundance for the chub, insects, where I caught a whole bunch of them. Near the clearing there is a village, and the locals didn’t seem to understand why some city "fool" wanders back and forth along the mow (that's what this one is called in their slang clearing) and collects something in a bag. Not without casualties - one hefty one Not only did the blacksmith almost bite my finger, but in addition he devoured two more their relatives are smaller in stature. For which he later went on the hook in the first placelists. 3. What a great find. The further road to the place was along the railway. And from now on my misadventures began. Passing by a heap of rags lying a little to the side from the paths, I suddenly discovered legs sticking out from there. They were human and They were dressed in jeans and sneakers. Strange premonitions took possession of me. I shouted buried in rags: “Hey, man, get up!” Zero reaction. Then I stamped my foot on earth. No effect. Even after light blows were made on the heel of one of the protruding legs blows with a wand, the person lying didn’t even move. Moreover: his leg was like bone. And on the other side of the heap, an unnaturally tucked hand stuck out yellow color... CORPSE!!! Fortunately, a shunting diesel locomotive was passing nearby. As described in the rules traffic, it must be stopped with a circular movement of the hand. Which is what happened Made with an orange fishing rod cover. The driver glanced at me displeasedly, but stopped and got out. Me while he Before he had time to get completely angry, he pointed to the heap. The driver busily approached her, and suddenly became a little confused. But he picked up one of the rags. Our view a half-naked body appeared, something resembling entrails was sticking out from under him. “Baba...” - the driver felt sick. The face was a complete a mess of blackened dried blood. For some reason the driver decided that the poor fellowthrown out of the train (although it was clearly clear that she was simply killed and They hid it here, apparently drunk as always). With a purple face he I trudged (slightly staggering) towards the cabin. In order not to have subsequent contacts already with the police, I hastened to hide. But the driver was not against it - he had already informed where it follows on the radio through the dispatcher and the squad seems to have left. Mood it was gloomy... 4. Location not found. Impressed by what he had seen before, the “cool” thing was never found place", I had to find by eye a more or less convenient beach in a quiet area reach, where he stopped. There was no sign of a gudgeon here, no matter how much I cast my fishing rod, I only caught one single ruff. So it’s a bummer with the odds, all hope is only to the ship. 5. Restless night. The ghouls did not appear, but there was some kind of anxiety. The fish turned over at night the ship and he, having changed the angle of attack, went in the opposite direction and crashed into shore It took a lot of time to pull it out - it was difficult to get back get close. No bites were observed. He made a fire of alder sap and lit it three spirals, laid out a foam mat and forgot... 6. Deceptive morning. The crack of the coil brought me out of meditation at about 4 o'clock in the morning. Jumped up grabbed the spinning rod. The heaviness and strong tugs left no doubt: yes! But toI am disappointed that the disappearance was as sudden as the bite. Then the bites There were one after another, but the fish did not get out - it kept coming off... The brave grasshoppers left for another world one after another. 7. Shvypyalovo. And then a strange suspicion visited me. Hastily pulled out the tackle, took the hook first leash. Poked at the nail. Glides like a ski. I took the second leash, I performed the same operation. Same effect. Both the third and fourth leashes were shown the same picture. The hooks are kind of stupid... “Mother-mother-mother-mother-mother-mother!!!...” - the echo habitually repeated. I thought about it. This is the second time I’ve been fishing with hooks that are not the same fish, the tomato will not be detected! How so?!! I began to remember why I didn’t check and sharpened I still don’t remember. 8. The first and only more or less normal fish. One of the fishing rods stood all night. When I was winding it up, I discovered a snag. Became pull. He pulled it out - a fish with a kind palm flashed in the air, but the fishing line broke and she plopped into the coastal grass. I threw myself at her with everything body. It was a chebak. Okay, at least I didn’t let him go. 9. Rotten tossed. And then it began to rain. The evening before, I completely forgot to unfold the awning tent, where I usually throw off my clothes and where I sleep under the warmth of the fire gathering in it. And the time has come to return home. Therefore, my clothes got wet, and soon I myselfI was like a sponge that had just been taken out of the bath. In this form I trudged all the way to stations. 10. Ending. While I was a little dry on the train, by the time I got home I was a little frozen. At home he said that he had caught a ruff, a chub and a female corpse. Rolled 150 gram of cognac, sipped a mug of hot tea and went to bed. Instead of an epilogue. Now I’m sitting here, just on hooks, typing this text. This is how we go fishing walk... /That’s all, All, what follows is only the truth.../