Tales of an entomologist. About adventures and travel

  
And I also remember that Gino immediately realized that someone who got up late was left without breakfast (lunch was not meant at all, because the whole day was spent hiking). Unfortunately, getting up early didn't always help - the local cats got up earlier and destroyed all the food supplies a couple of times.
Gino's fastidiousness in food was absent as a class - he swept away everything that he saw edible (even not quite edible, in my opinion). In general, it was fun in Anisimovka. There really is something to remember.

By the way, about the local cats. I've seen enough of them and now I promise to send my cat, who is trying to be picky about food, to Anisimovka for upbringing... That's where the struggle for existence is! The owner's cats feed on pasture food and, you won't believe it, for a sweet soul they eat very moldy dry bread thrown into a bowl of water. They try to eat even potato peelings, and everything more edible disappears simply without a trace. Dirty dishes can not be washed, just leave them on the table overnight... And one evening, two cats came to visit from the ski area. And they got into a fight. It was a battle to the death, something I had never seen in towns and villages. Even after getting a big kick from me, these creatures immediately grappled again, and jumped at each other to a height of more than a meter and howled terribly.

It's time to open the Anisimovka forever theme!
By the way, the Japanese came once. I'll meet you at the airport. I ask where we're going. The "chief" takes out a piece of paper and reads: A-ni-si-mov-ka!
But other places are cooler. It's just that few people know and it's harder to get there...

What places can you recommend?

another short sketch, which also does not contain fiction


How to become a national hero of Mongolia

Our wonderful blue van, driven by the hands of a Sleigh, was approaching Ulgia. It was just the beginning of another trip to the Jungarian corner of Mongolia, hidden between the high passes of the Altai and the border with China, where you can't go anywhere. We laughed merrily to Slavin's next story about the construction team, the army, or Peru. Petya dozed to the accompaniment of the Mongolian road, Dima stoically read someone's book, periodically kicking up a discharge of sepulchral, chilling laughter. Having slightly missed the straight road, we went around, and our dashing Sanya saw off each next well-fed groundhog with obscenities, lamenting every minute that he did not take the "trunk"with him.
Sanya, I must pay tribute to him, began to charge me with optimism from the first minutes of the trip. It all started with our conversation about health. Long-standing medical experience has not destroyed the humanistic principle in my soul, and in preparation for the trip, I asked Sanya about his health. About the heart, about blood pressure. I scared him with high passes, cold nights, the heat of the Gobi and high physical exertion. I attacked the wrong person – Sanek was ready for all the tests and moreover, according to him, he had never been to the doctor. And so we left 4 hours late and are rushing to Biysk. At the first push on the road, one of the windows in the booth fell out, making the driver laugh and startling us.
Remembering yesterday, Sasha noticed that he had been in the pharmacy for a long time. Question - why, why should a person who did not know doctors run to the pharmacy?
"Don't worry," Sasha said, " it's all right, but my heart stops sometimes.
"Oh, is that it? I mumbled.
Continuing the conversation, I reminded Sasha that it is unlikely that he will have to move much away from the car, because there are a lot of things, equipment. The driver reassured me.
"Don't worry, Roma, I'm not going anywhere. Even if I wanted to?
"How so?" I asked, marveling at the discipline.
- Yes, my legs do not go at all, for seven years, 20-30 meters and aches at once, two years ago they wanted to sew some kind of prosthesis into the vessels, but I won't let them do that. The bastards that came up with it.
I could clearly see images of gangrene, of a heart stopping during a sharp turn on another mountain serpentine. For a second I felt sorry for myself...
At the first stop in the Srostok area, Sanya, eating a pie, took out a tooth with his fingers. Apparently, so as not to interfere. The sight of a man falling apart horrified me, for I had not yet told my companions about the unruly heart, the unruly legs.
That's how we got to Kosh-Agach, then to the outpost, went through a complex of idiotic formalities. And then we dusted off in the direction of Ulgia, where our guardian angel, Dr. Becket, Doctor of Biology, owner of fat flocks, flocks and flyers, was waiting for us, slyly squinting. He greeted us with a hug, dubious cafeteria service, and an elegant, ugly soup. It was decided to continue the meal in nature, having a picnic. Beckett sat in the front navigator's seat and pointed the way. A good spot in nature turned out to be a patch of grass covered with all sorts of animal derivatives on the bank of Kobdo gol, almost in the center of Ulgiya. Something made us convince Becket of the abomination of this option, and after driving away from half a kilometer, we found the same one and realizing that resistance was impossible, we stopped. The conversation, decorated with fireworks of toast, at a certain stage took on an exclusively academic style. Becket, having received a certain dose of ppm in the blood, straightened up and began to talk about Mongolian and Russian science, about the friendship of peoples, about mutual responsibility. He methodically learned about our scientific tastes, and Petya honestly confessed that he was an expert on small butterflies – on moths. Such news struck the Mongolian scientist. My eyes were clouded by memories and projects:
"This is very important! – What is it? " he began.
Petya shuddered; no one had ever told him about the practical importance of working with moths.
"This is very important! after a brief pause, Becket repeated. - You, Peter, do not know what this means for our people. Moli, this is the scourge of our people, this is the cross that we have been carrying since the time of Genghis Khan.
And so on and so forth.
"Moth, de, the curse of our Arats. Enemy number one. Peter, you need to give recommendations to the shepherds, I will arrange a speech on the radio, then you will pass through Somon with lectures. Develop a list of recommendations, write flyers, shoot a video on TV...
We were still slightly intoxicated by the fumes of alcohol and could not fully understand how the taxonomist of lepidoptera became a kind of messiah of the Mongolian people. Glory, honor, national fame, dashing love of nomads – an incomplete list of sweet prospects looming before our friend. A rusty nail of envy has sunk into us.
Beckett continued.
- Yes, Peter, as a moth expert, you should know perfectly well that if you don't open the yurt for a couple of years, the moth eats up all the felt. Yes, that there are yurts, they ate my hat, my hat.
Like a burst of alcohol in the tent, fun broke out, after which, we reasoned, gave Becket a lot of advice – to ventilate things, put orange peels, mothballs, freeze hats and dokhi. And for more detailed recommendations – to Petya, please!

What places can you recommend?

There are many of them... Of the last places I visited, I really liked the Lazovsky ridge-on the road from Medvezhy Kut to Slinkino. On Blue (Merkushevka, Evseevka, Kalinovka...) it was great. From Venivitinovo (Vladivostok-Khasan road) through the hunting base towards the Chinese border. There is a long primer, then along the rocky riverbed... Then you can go north to Monaquino. Very wild places.
If you want comfort - Kaimanovka. Check in at the campsite and walk along the forest roads.

Wild Yuri in some of the forums wrote about the civility of people in Primorye, I agree with him completely, and on this topic several stories
2005, went to Kaimanovka to catch the night, settled in a hotel, on the edge of the village on the river bank, near the hotel shed with an open view of the clearing and the river, and then the forest, tutreshil and hang a sheet with a lamp. 10 meters from the barn is a small house, there were 12 young people resting there, I was alerted at first, just like we have no one knows who? What? why? it is necessary to understand and so on... but I decided to catch all the same, no matter what. It got dark, I turned on the light, the evening was overcast, everything immediately flew in a wave.!! from around the corner of the shed, 4 eyes glittered... " can I have a look?" "you can!", and then in a very polite form what you are doing, from where, why... told them, they leave... in a minute, everyone goes to watch, but not just like that, with moonshine, snacks, glasses. we drank and got acquainted, watched and went further to our table. an hour later, a very heavy downpour began, I pressed myself against the wall under a 15 cm visor, and fishing stopped there, after 2 minutes a girl comes running with an umbrella and almost in an order: "what are you standing here, quickly come to us", I could not refuse, there is a large canopy next to their house, and there barbecue and a table covered with a variety of snacks and drinks, my fishing ended there, but at least the evening was not in vain, these guys left me their phone, offered to go somewhere else with them, but it didn't work out any more, but thank you anyway!

Hello everyone. With your permission, I'll digress a little from the topic, but the story is still /in the topic/. The last time, in October, was 100 km away. From Vientiane (Laos), pos. Tobok. During the day, I rode a motorbike to a national park. At the cordon, I paid the ranger to enter, and drove to the waterfall. The road was very bad (only clay), I don't know how they are on jeeps on it sausage. I went first, but there were butterflies all around, and naturally I always stopped, and stealthily took out a net to catch something interesting (in Nats. If you can't catch them, they can do ata - ta). Soon, the jeep with the ranger caught up with me, I quickly hid the net, he did not notice anything. Then I followed him and did not catch anything, although very interesting butterflies were circling along the road. We were almost at the waterfall when a man with a net flashed in front of the ranger's car. I almost lost the steering wheel from what I saw. But Renjnr's Jeep continued on as if nothing had happened. There was no limit to my surprise. I stopped next to a man, a Japanese entomologist. In broken English, I entered into a dialogue with him. I explained to him that I was a collector from Rush, showed him my trophies, and watched it. It turns out that there is a whole group of them. Later, talking to the Japanese boss, I realized that they paid the ranger, and calmly caught like white people. I don't know who they are, maybe some millionaires, because their boss was very taciturn. Of course, they didn't find my places with butterflies, they only caught them on the road. I left my motobike and took a roundabout route away from the road, to my treasures, where there is not a single trapper, especially not a non-Russian one. Half a kilometer from the road, at my favorite place, still on puddles, sat, and circled in the air, a lot of different butterflies, but on this day, I came just to sit, in one of such rare corners of the planet, and even though I had a net with me, I was not going to catch them. It was my last day in Toboka. I tell this to the fact that having traveled through Thailand such corners, I no longer met (everywhere people, people, and fields with people). It seems that the flora and fauna of Thailand is dying, probably, it still has a maximum of ten years left.And Laos, completely copies Thailand. If you didn't make it, please hurry up.
The second amazing encounter took place 30 km away from Chantaburi (Thailand). Here I also met black catchers, but unlike the Japanese, they did not catch in the Nat. In the park. After talking to their manager (a resident of Chang Mai), I realized that they catch butterflies for rich Japanese people. This guy, whose name was Woo, told me that he hires hunters, for pennies, from the local villages, and they work for him with whole families. He kindly showed me his trophies, but flatly refused to sell anything. I didn't insist, because I already had everything he'd caught. Then we took a picture. He left me his address and phone number, invited me to visit. I said that when I was in Thailand, I would definitely stop by. It was my penultimate day in Thailand (it's time to go home), I gave him syringes, ammonia (for some reason they do not push butterflies, but press them down), we slammed the bail, and I drove to Chantaburi. On the winding road, almost at the exit to the highway, I met my mother and son, they were just checking the traps for Paris and izvarus. I stopped, smiled, and so did they. The boy took envelopes with butterflies out of the box and probably offered to buy them for me. I hesitated a bit, looked at the trophies, decided not to buy anything. He took out the ending Baht (20 baht) from his pocket and handed it to the boy, who immediately closed two palms in front of his chin in gratitude. Then we were silent for a while, and I smiled and stepped on the gas. Still, what a friendly people, just amazing. And so it is everywhere.
Having visited South-West Asia twice, in different months, and buying something from local sellers, I am still far from the complete works (and at least 160,000 rubles were spent for both times). The essence of the story is that you need to buy and catch more.Take an example from the people of the rising sun, they catch themselves, catch them and also buy dead wood.
I won't show you photos of the Japanese, I didn't bring my camera with me. Photos of Thai hunters kindly present.Photo of the stand in the Ranger's office, one of the National Parks of Laos.

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"Why didn't you mention me in the story?"

"Why didn't you mention me in the story?"

If you allow it, then a little later. Can I tell you about moths, too?

Nuuuu.... We only made your eyes happy

It was getting dark, and Chang Mai was about an hour's drive away. Our bus swayed smoothly, making careful right turns. I was traveling in business class, a rather talkative foreigner was sitting next to me, and periodically, after finishing another conversation on the mobile phone, he would ask me something, inserting his favorite at the end: Get me?. I nodded my head, although I didn't understand everything. I was thinking about where to go after Chang Mai. For my stay in Chang Mai, I set aside one day and one night. It was necessary to visit Nasatin, buy something from insects, fulfill the order of a Moscow entomologist about buying a book-beetles of Thailand, and of course go for a Thai massage session. Of course, I could not have imagined the upcoming meeting after the Japanese in Laos. At the September exhibition, many of the participants talked about going to Thailand. But Thailand is big, and everyone has different travel times. In general, meeting one of our people is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Meanwhile, the bus lurched to a stop. This was Chang Mai, the city of temptations and temptresses. An hour later, I was in my room, turned on the air conditioner, took a shower, and reviewed the material ( boxes with butterflies) and fell asleep.
The next morning, after breakfast, I made an appointment with the tuk - tuk driver and hurried to the famous Nasatin insect seller. This fragile Thai woman is surprisingly always very kind and sociable, and is always ready to welcome any traveling entomologist at home, regardless of the amount they are willing to spend on buying insects.
Arriving at the place, I asked her about the books I was asked to buy, about the babobochki, when suddenly two male figures were drawn near the main entrance. It was about thirty meters from where we were sitting to the gate of the house, and it took me a while to see the faces of our visitors. Nasatin, as it seemed to me, was a little frightened, quickly looked at me, I shrugged, making it clear that I do not know who these people are. She went to the gate, and I got up, went closer, and from behind the pillar looked at the newcomers. To my amazement, Thaler and Papis themselves were standing there. Here's a meeting, nine thousand kilometers from Moscow. Probably, collectors are more often found where there is something to profit from. Without entomological exhibitions, seminars (which are currently taking place in Moscow), forums, we probably did not know about our colleagues living with us, perhaps in the same stairwell.
For about five minutes, while this Thai, frail woman made us coffee, we sat at a huge table, trying to understand this unusual meeting. Pavel kept wondering why they were supposed to arrive here yesterday, and if they hadn't given up the car they were renting, the meeting might not have happened. But, as I have written in my previous dialogues, one should never forget about His Majesty's Case. I always remember it, too, but this time was truly special, too many coincidences.
The coffee was getting cold, and in the heat of conversation, we gradually moved on to analyzing insects. Taller hovered like an eagle over the hawk moth, peering intently at the monotonous pattern of Asian fly pollen. Papis was sorting through the bug boxes, looking for what I thought was something special. This time, I decided to settle for a small amount, gaining two hundred bucks worth of daytime butterflies. Leaving, we decided to celebrate this unexpected meeting in the evening of the same day.
I was waiting for my colleagues near Magdonalts, in the center of Chang Mai. It was already evening, festivities began in the square, music was playing, and the chefs began to prepare their dishes. Everything looked very appetizing and beautiful. For the sake of interest, I walked past the trading rows. The prices were scanty; fruit, seafood, sweets, and all sorts of other rubbish. Yes, I wish we had such abundance and prices in Russia, I thought. But, everything has its place, Russia – its open spaces and forests, and Thailand - its hospitality and cheapness, and even if you don't want to travel, everyone will have everything. While I was walking, the appointed time came, and I hurried to McDonald's for a meeting. Thaler and Papis showed up on a motorbike and told me where we were going to celebrate. And they ran away.
They found the right restaurant, with beautiful (Thai butterflies) swirling around like a chipped cake.Thaler and Papis no longer caught them; they already had more than one copy in their collection. Papis looked indifferently at all the flying specimens, which can not be said about the Thaler, he, just like during the day at Suvatanikha (the insect seller I described above), examined every passing Thai butterfly with a penetrating eye. What if he didn't have one? I, on the other hand, looked longingly across the road at the interesting shapes /Thai butterflies/ circling the neighboring light. They were too good.
After a long feast, Papis grew tired and tired from the bite of an unknown, vicious fly, and went to bed, while Thaler and I raced like hungry dogs through Chang Mai at night in search of adventure. But the search was in vain, either we were looking in the wrong place, or the time was late. So we returned to the Nischem inn. Later, when the Thaler looked at my trophies and went to bed, I still did my duty (I write, looking around so that my wife does not come in).
That's how our unusual meeting took place, in a distant and hot Thailand. In the morning I woke up, threw my backpack, paid for the room and rushed to meet new and unexpected adventures......
Photo: Suwatan police station. Her, well-remembered, massive table (you can see a little of her), at which we chose insects. Her gorgeous flowers, dog (Chang May March 2010). Next: Chang Mae Evening Bazaar, its abundance and peaceful atmosphere (October 2010). Then I and Pavel, Pavel and Papis, then Pavel, Papis, Denis (a Russian hermit tramp in Thailand). Next: A luxurious representative of the Thai fauna (Mekong ferry, my excursion to Wat Pu, southern Laos September 2010). Next: native Thai landscape (surroundings of the National Park). Doi Intenon Park, Thailand March 2010). And the last photo (National Park Doi Intenon 1500m March 2010): The road behind, the road ahead, what's around the bend? Wait and see....

This post was edited by Romyald - 01.02.2011 18: 13

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I'm finishing a story about one of my expeditions. Blockbuster movie! In some places, even there was a catharsis, and I went to blank verse! I place the first piece. Every 3-4 days I will post others. The plot, down to the nuances, is real. Most of the characters ' names have been changed. Valid until June 2008.

WHITE MOTH

The writer Vladimir Nabokov has a story called "Pilgram": about an elderly butterfly collector who dreamed all his life of going on an entomological expedition, but kept putting it off... and so died. I want to tell you about Pilgram, whose dream expedition took place. About the exciting Pilgrim expedition. As fate would have it, I traveled with him...

The successful Pilgram's name is Heinz Schultz. He is also German, lives in Germany, and is only slightly younger than Nabokov's hero: 52. Heinz-lepidopterologist. This is what collectors of butterflies are now called: from Lepidoptera, the Latin name for these insects, which means lepidoptera in Russian (their wings are covered with microscopic scales that form a pattern and iridescence). Heinz has an impressive lepidopterological... as they say now ... collection, acquiring exhibits at popular entomological fairs in Europe, and for especially valuable ones he goes on long-distance expeditions. In recent years, he dreamed of the butterfly parnassius arcticus, which lives in the Yakut mountains of Suntar-Khayat. A nondescript white moth... but-a great rarity. For true collectors, to whom our hero undoubtedly belongs, the value of the exhibit has always been much more important than appearance.
Arcticus is indeed a rarity. For lepidopterologists rarely visit those mountains: with their only low-traffic road, clouds of mosquitoes, bears and jaegers forbidding this butterfly to catch…

Yes, there was a case...
About 20 years ago, the author of the story already went for a "moth". With a Voronezh, now deceased, friend. We were discovered by footprints in the sandy floodplain of the river…
Two huntsmen, a dog. We're squatting by the tents. They take out their catch mattresses and nets... they take our passports. They leave, having ordered to report to the nature protection committee in the village of Khandyga. We get there (240 km!) by hitchhiking. The head of the local nature protection department tells us that it is forbidden to catch insects in Yakutia (applause of mosquitoes), and if we found Ammosov's sailboats (two were hidden in the klasser in my pocket), then... prison is possible! This species is protected by them like a mammoth. And this is the same arcticus! Called here alternatively in honor of the first entomologist-Yakut...
We were heavily fined for the rest of the butterflies. What a blessing that the country was perestroika, alteration of laws, local often contradicted the federal ones, and in the end they could not collect a fine from us.
Yes, we were lucky that time…

Heinz knew how dangerous it was to catch this butterfly, and his dream of going after it only grew stronger. But with whom? He was the only one who was afraid, and he didn't know where to fish. I turned to a hobby colleague from Russia and at the same time my friend. Volodya. It was he who formulated the great credo of life for 90% (well, 70...) of the world's lepidopterists: "Women! Money! Butterflies! " Each just changes the word order.
Volodya knew that I had once caught arcticuses. He called me:
- Yura, do you want to go to Yakutia for free?
"I do.
"There's a German who wants to catch Arcticus. Take it, bring it... pay for your expedition expenses.
- Mmm... does he know about the Yakut State Committee for Natural Resources?
– Yes.
- I need to think about it…

I thought about it for almost a week.
First, there is no guarantee that we will reach the fishing spot. Every summer, the Yakut taiga burns, and local flights are constantly canceled due to smog. You can, of course, take a rocket along Lena and Aldan, and then hitchhike, but the path is also often blocked due to toplyakov and blurred roads. And secondly, the arrest. Huntsmen with dogs… Prison.
In the end, I still came up with it!
1. We are going from Magadan. On the highway we reach the village of Ust-Nera, and from there, according to the Internet, there is a new road to Suntar-Hayata.
2. We take binoculars. We will regularly inspect the area to prevent the" patrols " of the rangers.
3. Black glasses, armband and trekking poles. We are not lepidopterists, but tourists! Finally, we got here...
4. Cook on gas. Tourist tiles and balloons. So that we won't be detected by the smoke from the fire.
5. Hide the catch, outside of passages, in rocks.
6. A gift. Just in case they "tie you up". They can let you go!

I will say in advance that we did not fulfill points 2 and 3. Heinz was supposed to take the binoculars, but he forgot them in the rush to pack. The tour supplies were supposed to be bought in Magadan, but we were on City Day, their store was closed, and ...
well, we'll pass for fishermen. I took a fishing rod and tackle just in case.
But the gift did not disappoint! Heinz" on the tip " of the wise Volodya bought an optical sight. In Yakutia, they are sluggish about monetary gifts, but very cheerful about useful items. And what could be sweeter than a rifle scope for a huntsman?
If suddenly there are two huntsmen… We'll give the second one a tent. No. The second one might be upset... persuaded Heinz to buy another scope. If anything, it will sell it after the expedition via the Internet.
Heinz bought one of the best hunting scopes: the Karl Zeiss, for 400 euros each.
From now on, I slept soundly. They just can't help but let us go!..

I fly to Magadan and spend the night at friends ' houses, where I meet Heinz. People usually go to Ust-Nehru by bus to the city of Susuman, and from there-by taxi. Or immediately "on the motor". Which is only slightly cheaper than the Moscow-Magadan plane. Eager for a blitzkrieg, the German chose a taxi.
We leave in the late afternoon. The asphalt ends 100 km from Magadan. Dirt, dust... low, larch-covered mountains. Abandoned settlements of gold miners. Every 5-6 hours, the taxi stops, the driver boils tea on a portable gas stove, and we have a snack.
We're going all night. Polyarnaya Street… It can be seen as in the daytime! Since the end of June, it starts to get dark here, and in August it becomes "like in Europe".
After spending 28 hours and covering 2000 km, we arrive in Ust-Nehru. Straight to the village hotel… Go to sleep!
In the morning, I go to the intercity taxi office and ask for delivery to Suntar Hayat. "Span". There is no bridge halfway across the Elga River. Just under construction! But there is a ferry crossing. A longboat. Not for cars. Their taxi can take them there… Then wait for a ride "from the other side". They are rare. But you can leave in 2-3 days...
There are no other options. Let's go!

It's getting late. Here and on the Elga. Sultry Yakut summer, the" hum " of mosquitoes. Three men in overalls are loading welding cylinders onto the longboat ... clearly to the other side! On the advice of the taxi driver, for a 50% discount for the ferry, we hand the barkasschik a bottle of vodka. He carefully "pushes" it into his vest.
Let's go!
Unexpectedly wide, in the" peak " of the cards, the Elga. Fast current. Barkasschik reports that on the rifts in malaya voda it is moved by "Urals". Sometimes they drown. Local specifics… But there will be a bridge by autumn.
We land on the other side. Worth... just "Ural". Vakhtovka! Our three passengers. They start dragging tanks into it...
I ask one:
– Where are you going?"
– Mulcan… Then Khandyga.
I don't believe it. This is via Suntar Hayat!!
– Where and to us. Take it!
- Ask the chief...
He is among the "trio", participating in the loading. But the job is over. Coming up...
- No, I can't. Instruction manual. It is forbidden to carry people with gas cylinders!
Explains that they can explode on the local potholes. It's happened once before. Land mine!
Well, how so. We're on the same route as you, and you can't get 1-2 cars a week.
"
But you won't be punished, will you?" We're all going to die!
"Well, a philosopher. Get in!"..

The three of them get into the cab, and we go to the booth with our backpacks.
Fear. Can another car wait? And he didn't tell Heinz… I translate for him about the explosion.
It pales. He flaps his eyes in confusion.
"Are we going, Heinz?"
He thinks.
"Yes, we're going, Yuri.
A true Pilgrim! I'm willing to sacrifice myself for the moth.
And I... for what? I don't know myself.
A bench. We are sitting in front of a mountain of balloons.
We're rolling.
They rattle... we look out the window without much fun.
Choo, something gurgles. Dear. Vodka! There are two more bottles in the backpack..."

- We will! (He speaks Russian.)
I'll take one. In mugs ... well, per mole!
It swam in my head... and-much quieter sounds. The conversation grows stronger.
The fear is gone!

The taiga is rushing past the window. I finished my vodka. There is always so little of it! I remember the last time it suddenly snowed. My friend and I were cold. We sit in tents and sleeping bags. Melancholy!
Hand in supplies… Vodka. Spilled it. Warmth on the body immediately! A peppy conversation. Then they even started singing! Drinking again…
Oh, it's not enough to take her with you!
It is a currency. For a bottle of vodka Yakut will give venison for the whole tour. They'll give you a ride." They'll put you up to live in a winter shelter. All for half a liter...
Always take it!

Heinz looks younger than his 52s. Physically strong, smiling and unpretentious.
Un-German absent-minded. Once I didn't leave for an expedition... forgetting my tickets! And in Altai, when I was drunk, I wanted to go to a village disco.
Wrong German. However, according to the nation of my mother-a Pole!
Married. He loves his wife, but sometimes jokingly calls her ... the Gestapo. 100% frau, with a suitable name for her appearance: Dagma.
Volodya, who was staying with him, described Heinz's everyday life in this way...
Evening. He's sitting on the couch with him, chatting about the past burza (insect fair).
Enter the room Dagma. Listens to the conversation. Asks:
"Tell me, my dear ... how many butterflies did you buy on Burza?"
The man immediately presses his shoulders back...
" Mmm... I don't know exactly. Fifty. Or thirty...
Dagma raises her eyebrows.
- More precisely… Heinz: Thirty or fifty?!
He begins to mumble something about the price of butterflies, when fifty often cost as much as thirty, and one can cost...
" And how much, Heinz... can one butterfly cost?..
"...
Dagma is coming..."
The great female psychologist Volodya gallantly takes her arm and whispers:
"Madame, the money invested in butterflies is an increase in capital. They are constantly getting more expensive!
"Or they're being eaten by leatherworms," Dagma says sarcastically, not pulling away.
Oh, these Nordic women who are not romantic and have a built-in calculator!
Volodya looks at Dagma reproachfully.
What she doesn't know yet is that Heinz has decided to go to Yakutia and, worst of all, has bought expensive Zeiss riflescopes…

---

Part 2 is coming soon...

This post was edited by Wild Yuri - 01.01.2012 21: 14

Yakutia. Yellow Submarine

This post was edited by Wild Yuri - 12.02.2011 02: 18

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Cozy Yakut winter quarters

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Window Interior

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Hi Wild Yuri,
Cool stories!
Юра

Window Interior

The skulls of small Andrewsarchs were gathering dust on the windowsill...

In many cultures of the world, skulls perform a mystical effect on evil spirits, and are located at the entrances and exits of homes, as well as on the approaches to villages. I saw a similar picture in mountainous Azerbaijan near Kyalvaz.

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In the same way, I found a wonderful yak skull in Mongolia and, of course, brought it home.

In many cultures of the world, skulls perform a mystical effect on evil spirits, and are located at the entrances and exits of homes, as well as on the approaches to villages. I saw a similar picture in mountainous Azerbaijan near Kyalvaz.

To the point! The main entrance for the beast to the winter quarters is the window! Thank you for your comment...

I fixed some typos in the first part, and I'm posting the second one...
There will probably be five in total.

---

"WHITE MOTH", continued...

After two hours, the car stops.
- Base! We'll drop some of the cargo here, and tomorrow we'll go to Hayata...
The supervisor starts unloading the cylinders. The other two help. And we.
Ba. There's a whole town here! Rows of trailers, bulldozers, dump trucks, workers scurrying everywhere… I learn that they are building a bridge over a small but wayward, changeable riverbed Mulkan.
The track was built by fellow road builders. To the abandoned village of Kyubume, where it connects with the old one, from Susuman, going through Suntar Hayata to Khandyga. Nice track. High, dense gravel. However, somewhere else is being built, and there are areas of terrible potholes. The road from Susuman to Kyubyume has not been repaired for 25 years, it has fallen into complete disrepair, but from time to time "Ural" and "Uaz" still break through there, shortening the path from Magadan to Oymyakon and Tomtor lying in the "other side".
The new route makes it much easier to travel from Magadan to Yakutsk, which is a "moderate" distance of 2,500 km by local standards. In Khandyga-take a ferry across the Aldan, and the capital of Yakutia is already some 400 meters away!

Unloading is over. Finally, let's get acquainted with the boss. Victor. From Khabarovsk. Here, like everyone else - on watch. Three months. The same amount of "vacation" at home, and back...
Invites us to dinner.
Dining car. A bench, a long plank table with oilcloth, a large samovar...
there are workers at the table. We sit down with Heinz on the empty part of the bench. The cook pours everyone a plate of rich borscht with stew and puts a basin of pancakes. I timidly add to the general meal camp condensed milk...
- Hide it! You'll treat the bear! the cook smiles.
The workers look at us curiously.
Let's introduce ourselves...
- Heinz, ahem!
- Yuri. He's German. Camping trip...
- Well, you came in!
Laughter from the "other side", animation.
We learn from the workers that the people here are from all over the country and even from neighboring countries. 3 months of shift work. The salary for each of them is 120,000 rubles. There is a lot of work, but there are also downtime. Fishing, hunting...
Viktor provides us with a free trailer for the night. There are mattresses and pillows provided. We throw sleeping bags on them. You can live!

And in the morning he informs us that there is an intermission on the trip. Check-out is postponed until tomorrow. We can go for a walk...
We are happy to. Let's start the"field"! Oymyakon mountains. Where no one caught it…
A hearty breakfast in the dining room (and again free!), and we walk with Heinz to the nearest mountain. About three kilometers away. A "bare" slope. Steppe, it seems. Rocks. Butterflies love such places! Frisky larch "cut". And a cold river, picking up shoes and pants.
Begins. On the sandy "beach" – the trail of a bear. And then… In the palm of your hand! Rummaging through our backpacks for firecrackers. We look around. Speeding up the pace...
Here's another clubfoot walking around. On neighboring braids. And the third… Squad!
The paws are round, long and even like a human foot. Just the claws. I'd like to get to the mountain sooner!
Ugh, the foot. And the bears are forgotten. Butterflies! On-over the slope flutter, in the steppe.
There are whiteflies and erebiae. The nets "fluttered"in a moment. Views only ... that caught near Ust-Nera already. But-other subspecies, it seems! "Mow down", climb. Sweat in three streams.
We rested while sitting on the slope. Admiring the surrounding area. Domes of the highlands and without an edge – taiga!
And everything has such power and mystery. Not to understand, not to express...
In the evening, on the same way home. Three workmen meet us, with a gun, at the hares.
They squint at the nets...
- From fishing?
"Grayling... for now."

For dinner, the chef will treat us to them! Put on the table a large bowl of fish baked in batter, with two capelin. They were caught in a net on a nearby river, untouched by the bridge section. It looks like she didn't even know fishing before the construction site.
How delicious, guys! What a nafig Norwegian salmon, grown on hormones and mixed feed, but still fashionable for some reason in Russia.
Heinz helps himself timidly.
"Yuri, how much zis sapper?" (How much does this dinner cost?)
"Not at all, Heinz.
Perplexity...
- We are in Russia, Heinz.
He grabs three grayling plants at once. German spontaneity. This Japanese will pretend that the freebie is not interesting to him, "tyr" individually.
After eating, you end up with more.
After a meal and a few " believe good! "s, he informs us that in Germany, for no reason at all, they would not have given us a ride in an official car, fed us, or put us up at a construction site. Instructions are strictly followed there.
Oh, those Russians…

In the morning we go to Suntar Hayata! Victor and the driver are in the cab, and we have a booth again. Thank God, there are three times less cylinders, the road is a luxury, and they almost do not rattle anymore.
All the same larch trees in the window, gentle mountains with meadows… Once we saw a moose standing right next to the highway.
The weather is ringing. In Yakutia, they do not complain about it. Although cyclones are not uncommon in the mountains and even summer snowfalls occur.
We've been driving for three hours now. Suddenly, a picture of black mountains with snow spots appears in the distance. Suntar Hayata! I get excited. Leaning against the window, I stare out at the approaching mysterious land that I've only just touched. I remember the stories of the Yakuts. There is a snowman here, and a monster in Lake Labynkyr. Gorges make mysterious sounds...
Drunken gamekeepers, perhaps?
And now there is a big panorama of mountains, beautiful circuses, scree and climbing forest. How much snow there is on the northern slopes! Heinz is timid...
I calm you down. Everything is fine! Snow melts here almost until August. At the same time, it is warm during the day, + 20-25, and on the scree of the southern expositions, where the moth lives, it can also be hot!

And again in my memory that first "raid"…
We traveled through Yakutsk. Day on a rocket along the Lena River and its tributary Aldan. Khandyga village. We spent the night in a hotel and went to the Magadan highway to catch a ride.
There were few cars in those years of perestroika. Caught by the evening. The heavy-drinking driver talked about horse-sized bears and runaway convicts who looked like Neanderthals. Both of them can eat us!
The usual thing. Somehow he looked at us strangely...
he drove under 90 km along the road that was completely killed and, almost without slowing down, "wagged" along the clamps along the "plumb line" of the mountain and the river raging 50 meters below.
"Look out! he pointed down at the wreckage of the fallen ones. His sparse teeth were bared in a frenzy of ecstasy, and our eyes were squeezed shut…
The extreme was still there. Night frosts are below minus 10. Snowfall.
We spent almost a month climbing the mountain slopes, but only caught two moths. I didn't have much idea of her stations back then. Highlands. Black scree. South slope. We climbed "at random", firing a cannon at sparrows, and we needed a sniper's sight…

Yeah. You should have taken scopes that time! But who would have thought that butterflies are "captured"...
Such are the laws in Yakutia. You can get a license for a polar bear and argali, but for a butterfly-no way! The Yakuts have some kind of "original" attitude to moths and other insects, and I can't understand it. Well, let's say butterflies are beautiful. Local summers are poor in colors, and Yakuts want to protect them especially. But nondescript beetles ... bedbugs... Diptera… Insects that are millions of times more numerous than big game and reproduce immeasurably faster are protected here on a par with it and even more strictly!
And here rather-ethnopsychology. Yakuts from time immemorial hunted exclusively for "large animals". Insects, unlike other Eastern peoples, were not eaten. And they became a special, metaphysical substance for them. It will pass. But, I think, not soon, because the ethnopsychology of the people is a very conservative thing…

The car rolls loudly among the mountains and the" underlying " forest. June 20, and here it is still the height of spring, with shiny, young foliage on poplars and not fully "pubescent" larches. Butterflies are still scarce, but the white moth is already at its peak-an early species waiting for rare hunters...
They're already here! Focused. Slightly unshaven. They received a baptism of fire yesterday in the Oymyakon Mountains. They weren't eaten by bears. They caught the first butterflies. They are even quite full, and Heinz calmly leans out of the window and takes pictures of the scenery.
I pull him down. Suddenly the huntsmen...
yes, everything is now a conspiracy! Selected" under the substrate " clothing, dark nets, ten 400-gram cylinders of gas… No bonfires! Gas, of course, saves time and effort. No need to search for firewood. Ignite… You can't smoke. And yet the bonfire is sacred. You look at the fire – your heart is happier!
Scares away the beast, mosquitoes. Warms and dries. It's a pity, this time we can live without him…

We'll land at a new location. A friend "passed". I fished there 20 years ago. Before security measures. Slope. A dozen moles a day. Not bad! That's just from the track it is visible "point blank"…
That place! It is necessary to beat in the cabin...
The car ... slows down on its own. I can't believe it. Again the base. Trailers. Bridge builders!
"Forever with us?" Victor jokes.
He calls me to the dining car. Lunch.
I take out the condensed milk… The cook:
"Hide it!"
Borscht for Heinz and me. Pilaf. Lingonberry juice.
Well, an expedition, though!
The young man entered the trailer.
Heinz: -
Hi z student?
We think - "" Hey, Chief!

Andrey. Head of this precinct. I graduated from the Road Institute a year ago.
– The bridge is made of wood and replaced with concrete.
I tell him about us. Tourists. Over the mountains. Can we... put up tents here?" We are afraid of bears...
Laughs. It leads us to the trailer.
– Free. Check in!
We can eat for free. In the dining room. Instead of the harsh taiga to the resort!
I thank him.
- Tourists… To be honest: tell me, don't you catch butterflies?

---

Part 3 - the other day...

This post was edited by Wild Yuri - 05/17/2011 00: 37

The first camp...

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Roadside tenedius

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Bridge over Kyubeme. Fortunately, we are not going there...

This post was edited by Wild Yuri - 08.02.2014 10: 39

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Ahead - Suntar Hayat

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The second part was also slightly corrected. Now - the third.

---

"WHITE MOTH", continued...

I squeezed my eyes shut.
– We're ... sort of ... in the mountains."
— yeah. There was a huntsman. A moth flies here… Ammosova Street.
It adds information about the price. Like a Jeep Cherokee somewhere.
– ...
I'm starting to stutter. It's always like this, when they're looking at
you directly.
I give up. And I quietly tell you about Pilgram. About Heinz, who dreamed all his life about the moth.
- As the jeep is not worth it! Two hundred bucks. And get here! Yes, and catch...
He looks snide.
– You catch. That's just the huntsman ordered such to hand over!
Knock him on all the tourists and passers-by. Well, if someone with a net... immediately report to the "base". On the highway here, 6 km away.
I'm settling down...
- Just can't wait! Fishing was forbidden to us...
Straight again.
– Everywhere the bridgemen hunt and set up nets. We... can't go grayling with a fishing rod!
The boss is angry with the huntsman. His name is Katanyi. So strict and incorruptible. It protects the nature reserve here. Butterflies and argali. Uaz is available. Dog.
And all day – with binoculars!..

What to do? Can he just give up?
At least they won't put you in jail...
no. I'll take my chances with him, though. With gifts. After all, we are still lucky!
I'll tell you how it is. About Heinz. What is the dream of a lifetime…
I'll hand you the scope.
All right, then. Catch. I'll
get you a day or two...
Kickback. Let's roll! He will forget about the ban. Checked a hundred times.
And if it really is the commissioner of Catania? It will send you away...
That's when it's over.
I decide: catch it! Tomorrow before lunch. After all, a German piece is enough. We hide the collection in the rocks. We look at the track... in the evening I go to Catania. Won't let you? Go home! With a catch. Happy ending!

The shift crew with Viktor sped on. Empty. The gas was unloaded ...
overnight. Hang up. The trailer. Bunks. I shudder… Ghost zone. And if they don't put you in jail, you'll be fined. Cool again. And they will be punished. After all, another time...
Climbed up, on the lower bunks-Heinz.
Mda, tomorrow we will partisan. German - in a helmet, earflaps I. Tsuryuk! Chu, song… Tired.
Pilgrim boards creak.
I lie there dreaming. We need a helicopter! How the Czechs used to catch moths here. They landed on mountains. And so Heinz and I fly... the huntsman is rushing around below.
I fell asleep again. Other dreams. I do not remember.
A bellow in the middle of the night...
- Heinz!
I woke up and sat down. He dreamed of Dagma. I found the scopes. And it goes to him…

Morning came. Breakfast with the team. Workers of all years, but all younger-the chief.
Khokhmyat: for a butterfly? Katanyi enlightened everyone!
No, I say: tourists. The chief is silent.
Well, with God! Uphill ... backpacks, firecrackers. I'm giving Pilgram an important briefing.
– We are partisans...
He blinks his eyes. The word scares the Germans even now!
"Watch the track. If suddenly a car... or a passerby, just pretend to be a rock!
What if you suddenly have binoculars?
"Heinz ... we need to split up. I catch on the right side of the slope, you catch on the other side.
Okay Focused. His khaki outfit, all the way down to his panama hat. I'm wearing a black T-shirt and camouflage shorts. It's not easy to see us.
But the dog, damn it…

Heinz is experienced in hiking. Be careful. He catches butterflies in Germany, and there… Two-thirds of the species are protected. Volunteers monitor the "points". The ecopolice gets a call… Here is a girl walking with her boyfriend to a clearing. In the bushes – Grandpa. He put out his binoculars. What if the flowers are crushed?! Follow… Aha, they flattened it! To the eco-police… There are a legion of such patrols!
Yes that there. It is forbidden to spend the night in a tent and burn a fire with them!
And catches Heinz, like Stirlitz. As a photographer. There's a camera around my neck. He looks around. Here is a valuable view… Net layout from your pocket! Trophy in a bag… He's a quiet burgher again.

Hill climb… My feet get stuck. Made of small black stones. Shale flint. Heinz goes to the left. I go to the right.
I got the net. I sit down on the scree. Waiting...
still cool. Morning. Mountain beauty. I look at the track.
Suddenly ... it's flying! Like a white petal. It soars over the slope. All below… The moth!! I rush to her ... alas. Skidding in the" mines " of slate. I'm stuck... three steps – one step closer! No way to run. And the petal on the slope ... goes away. Not noticing my jerk.
Another one!.. Getting closer… Close by! Throw!.. Caught it!! Flight time. Like a racquet ball! And as if in tennis, he raised his hands in victory. I want to scream... I don't say anything. Must not.
I look at the trophy in the palm of my hand. From the snow like, black strokes. A piece of these mountains, and I can feel some mystery in it.
Another one! It spreads over the" ripples " of the slope. It decreases. Just guess the flight… To her!
My feet are moving... it's flying away.
And a new one in a minute!.. Sela "in the slope". Creeping up. I see it! Wings to the sun. Sits. Out of the shade I put a net… On the slate! Got it!!
Then I catch another one. In flight again. And again – in the stones…

Caught 8 pieces in an hour. Super! I just forgot about the road. I didn't look… What if the huntsman spotted us? Sneaking around… It's time to start collecting stones.
But here... the cherished moth rushes again! Follow her!.. My legs are slipping. No!!
Horus "fall" ... blow!
Dust. Pain.
Well, what's next is unclear. The sky is on top... I'm lying down.
Alive?!
Sat down. Meters with four fell, however. Where and one is dangerous. "Wall". It was lucky that the shale at the foot was caked. Without "blades". Of which there are plenty.
Still, there are cuts on my thigh. About the "grater" of the wall. Blood drips from the elbow. The wrist was cut with a sharp stone. He clutched at a pine tree as he fell. Yeah ...
running to the stream. Washed it. Oh, the miracle. The veins are intact! And tendons! Bandaged it up. I pulled my hand down to my shoulder to join the fabric together. Other wounds are nonsense, they will heal as it is!
Got the right one. The catcher. Finish line. I'm going to the base.
Heinz... disappeared. Not on the slope. Tied up? Or did you go further with exploration?
Well, he'll come back on his own…

There's no one at the base. People at work. I sat down on the doorstep of the trailer. I'm sad.
The ball is over. Heinz will come with the catch. Certainly. In the morning-on the way back!
Although ... if Katanyi surrenders… We can fish longer. But left-how? Stitches would be on the wound… Yes, the medical center is far away. Now walk with your arm bound.
What a coincidence! I wounded the same one! Just like on the first expedition. I fell while crossing a stream. I get up – the slate sticks out in the palm of my hand. It left a big scar.
Another one has emerged. "Suicidal". You'll have to hide your hand from your friends somehow.
What will happen the third time?.. Take a helmet, sticks!
Or... not show up here at all.
Yakuts say there is a Suntar-Hayat spirit. He is cold to tourists. And he does them harm. Then he puts his foot up and falls on the rocks, then he eats supplies in the skin of a bear.
Or maybe ... it flies like a moth on the slopes? As its main appearance. I'm scared.
And in the form of a huntsman with a dog walks ...
Choo, passed out. Heinz!

I'm telling you about the injury.
Without moles, he is! I was sitting on the left side of the slope. "It
was morning, Heinz! Cool...
well, spread his hands. I couldn't stand it. And I decided to check out the neighboring slope. It's full of crested! What the moth caterpillar eats. Here's the place! The sun came out. Waited, climbed higher… Alas!
I show you my catch.
I explain to my partner that he has gone to the northern spur. The tuft is a carpet there, but the moth always flies to the southern ones! I've already told him... a hundred times. And also that she needs smaller scree for life. And your flowers.
Heinz is German. I've seen a lot of them. There is an algorithm for everything. And here you need a flair!

7pm, but the sun is still bright. Check in in June only at 9 here.
Scopes-in the backpack. A bottle of vodka. I take a bow to the "master of the taiga".
Forest route. Hand in a sling. According to the columns, I keep the mileage.
The sixth!
Well, mysticism... Another plot! The bridge is being built. Trailers. Carport. At the table – a team. Teapot, mugs...
They pour me some tea.
"You're from next door?"
"Yeah...
I lied for some reason. We decided that it was from Andrey! Brigade member...
They asked about the news.
– There are no materials available…
He said he'd heard it.

– We'll finish the bathhouse in a few days. I invite you all!
Got carried away. What if Andrey doesn't need them?
– We'll come… Why come here?
"I'm actually going to see Katanya. A business. The hut where is it?
The brigade somehow "goes out".
"Along the river. That's just not there!
He went to Khandyga. The downpour washed away the highway. It "sits"there... They'll fix it in five days.
- Cool!!
I almost cried out.
"Oh, Misha didn't tear him up... a little. He took away his gun and banned fishing.
They don't like him here either. I found out that Catania's bear got into a fight that summer. The scars on his face...
Dating is already scary.
On the way back... flying!

On the wings! The spirit of Suntar Hayat has become kinder! It looked like he was ashamed of... the trip. And the last scar.
"Good luck, Heinz!
"Kollekted?" (Taken?)
- Collective huntsman!
I tell him he's stuck. I'm returning the sights. Vodka… United thoughts: celebrate!

---

Part 4 - the other day...

This post was edited by Wild Yuri - 05/17/2011 00: 39

Yuri, I was curious: is it written in blank verse itself, or is this the idea?

"I caught 8 pieces in an hour. Super!
I just forgot... about the road. I didn't look…
What if the huntsman spotted us? Sneaking around…
It's time to go to the stones.… But here...
the cherished moth rushes again! Follow her!..
My legs are slipping. No!! Horus "fall" ...
blow! Dust. The pain...
Well, what's next is unclear. The sky is on top...
I'm lying down.
Alive?! "

What a rhythm! A poem!

This is when catharsis finds you. It happens when you drink a little... Then you just need to correct it, on a sober one, where "already past the path". Not on purpose. So it went somewhere, then continued. Thank you for the compliment!

Moth Mountains

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Forage plant of arcticus-Gorodkov's crested beetle

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Expectation... I usually wore a camouflage (black) T-shirt, but then, after a quick climb, I decided to cool off.

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Distant view

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This is when catharsis finds you. It happens when you drink a little... Then you just need to correct it, on a sober one, where "already past the path". Not on purpose. So it went somewhere, then continued.

Duc, the whole 3rd part is written like this! Reminded Goldoni, "Servant of 2 masters" (in Russian translation, of course...) - there the size is the same.

This post was edited by Kharkovbut - 02/16/2011 00: 43

can I send a photo of the culprit of the white moth to the studio? Why such emotions?.

Parnassius arcticus (said at the beginning). The photo, of course, should be in the final. If you are interested in seeing the map item now, enter the specified Latin in the search engines.

For the sake of drama, I'll wait for the denouement!

Part 4

---

"WHITE MOTH", continued....

Drinking together is... unethical. I invite Andrey. He doesn't drink. We want to treat the crew. He says you can't. Taboo watches. I ask him to make an exception for once. For half a liter of everything. Okay, drink up. He goes to bed himself.
7 workers. Two more left. Are you done?
One thimble apiece. Oh, and get drunk… But feasts are the essence of communication! Heinz talks about Germany, I talk about hiking, and the workers talk about their lives.
Interesting people. One, already a "grandfather", is fond of photography. From a village in the Khabarovsk Territory. Walks in the taiga and mountains. Our cook is from the steppe Crimea. In Doc's viticulture, beekeeper and cooks like a god. Brightest of all... a felon. From the village "pod Khabara". 8 years for murder. I got into a fight at a dance. Hit "slightly" ... still young, but-a real Kulibin! The wind generator was also assembled by the swamp walker.
In the fall, he goes around on it for cranberries. Heinz
asked:
"Engineaea?" (Engineer?)
"Well, almost..."
(Why here, then?)
I didn't know what to say.
- He is unemployed, Heinz.
And added how difficult the fate in Russia is. I just didn't tell him about the murder…

I don't sleep well. "Freezing", and aching wrist. There was not enough "medicine". Two hundred grams would be... okay, it will pass.
I get out of the trailer. Cold. You can clearly see the surrounding area, on a polar night. Silence.
I wander along the road. Dumas... I've been driving like this all my life. I don't know why. Money? There would be more in the city. And calm down. Also, it seems, fate...
I follow the path down to the river. Talkative. Grayling in the pits somewhere. Tastier than trout! I'd like to go fishing...
I see again... a bear trail! Damn, everywhere. Lurk-kaput!
I've met a brown bear twice. Both are here, in the backwoods of Sakha. The first in the past for moth "raid". I was walking along Marie. Suddenly there's a crack in the windfall! Popa ... grows in 30 steps. Rushes noiselessly. Then ... slowing down. And so… Clubfoot turned to me. Looks, thinks. I'm going... to it. And then more and more to the left, to the left… Round back. Calmly. Only cotton wool in the legs…
The second time – just like in the movies! Near Ust-Nera. I walked along the river under a cliff face. "Zigzag"... Skirting it. Toptygin! A few meters away. Face me! I bent it down... in my thoughts: a pipe! You can't keep up with the firecracker. We need to shout! But fear made my throat tighten. And I ... bleat. He's watching. I must be sick, he thought. Коли тих. Inedible. Gone. Don't forget the look in his eyes…
I return to the trailer. Heinz is asleep. Sanguine. I lay down and fell asleep. In the morning, he is smiling and cheerful. Only sometimes I have nightmares about dangerous animals and Dagma.
Which seems to be the same thing. Today – silent…

Morning. My arm aches. The sky is overcast. I tell Heinz: go alone. Take my place, on the right. And closer to the elfin tree. If someone is on the highway, hit them. Freeze!
Breakfast. The German leaves. Back on the bunk...
sleeping. Around noon ... motor. I hear a car pulling up. From the highway. I get up to see...
And like in a dream. Uaz-a loaf with a "strip". Goskompriroda!
P...c.
Two Yakuts… Andrey approaches them listlessly. I step back into the trailer. They watch me go…
Through the crack, I heard:
- Fine you soldered!..
And about the tourists... Ammosov ... they say something to him.
No! Moth in bags, box right on the table. Get in the trailer and confiscate it! Idiot! God… Where are they going? Where to?? I fuss in the bare walls.
There are no other options. One. Just eat it...
I have another idea! I throw the box in the oven. Splinters of wood on top ... maybe set it on fire?
They don't all come. Time froze.
A car hummed. Let's go! Costed it!!!

I approach Andrey.
- Inspection from Oymyakon. This is a nature reserve after all. Strict control.
The zone belongs to Khandyga, but we changed our colleagues at their request. After all, there is still no passage from there.
– Reprimanded for diesel fuel on the ground.
– What about tourists... I've heard...
" No!
I shake his hand.
– You were looking at the mountain through binoculars...
– ???
Heinz managed to hide... or did he pass for an argali?

He came at dusk. Excited.
"Yuri! Who autum! (The car!)
But he did as I said. I dived into the elk tree.
Well done! Perfect partisan!
But I didn't catch arktikusov.
He was at my place this morning. Cloudy. Holo. I decided to go for a walk in the mountains again. The sun has appeared. I found a similar scree. Black Stones… And there are zero butterflies.
Heinz, as much as you can...
"Were there any small stones?"
- Know.
- Southern slopes?
- Donte biliv. (I forgot.)
He speaks enthusiastically, there are a lot of crested birds there!
All over again to him… The German sees 1-2 measurements, but with butterflies you need five!

Third day. My wrist aches. The sky is overcast. Heinz goes off alone again.
I walk around the site. I watch the workdays of the workers. They build a bathhouse to keep themselves occupied. The fact is that there was only a part of the materials for the bridge. We've mastered everything. And there's been an intermission for two weeks now. It's a long way to take them, and the track is blurry. Even in the winter, "on solid", it was necessary to deliver everything! But then the firm apparently had no money. The entire road, with its bridges, is a federal project. The money is paid by Moscow. And there they will agree on... our endless Russian mess.
Interestingly, workers get paid regardless of the"amount of work". A month – 40,000 rubles. Sunbathe, admire the mountains. Dissatisfied... there are, however. They want to work!

I sat down on a log near the river and bridge pillars. Andrey approaches. He showed me across the river. In the clearing –ears. The hare! He says the Yakuts stopped by one of the bridge stages once. I didn't have enough gas to get home. Hunters. Kamaz. They asked me to sell two cans. Or-on hares barter. Well, we're changing ... we thought they'd give us a couple of big-eared ones.
They ... set up a barrel!
"It was a big hunt, though.
Full body! Half a thousand hares!!
How...?
"Uh, not difficult, though… Yakut method!
They drive obliques to the "corners" at the confluence of rivers. Mountain Stream… Those do not dare to go into the water. All shot and continue to go. They fill up, sometimes, more. There are a million hares in these mountains!
Yes the other one is here… Sakha! Where else is nature so rich? If you have a gun – you don't have to go to the store. There are so many delicious berries, mushrooms…
And what a fishing trip!
Precious moths… I would have lived in Sakha if the huntsman had disappeared!

Evening. Heinz. He throws up his hands. I didn't catch it again!
Well, business… He spent half the day at my place this time. Cloudy again. Wind. There is no summer. Then he went back to the mountains to investigate. Late afternoon-the sun! I went back to my seat. Sat… There were no moles!
Strange. However, I've heard that moths fly before dinner. Then hibernate…
Unlucky Heinz you! But-smiley, for which we are always so appreciated!

Day four. I'm afraid the huntsman has already returned. The sky is gloomy again. I'll go with Heinz!
On the" suspension " hand. I'll catch it with my left hand! I walk briskly up the hill. Resting on it with the handle of the net.
I have a folding fishing bag. 300 rubles in total. Made of duralumin. "Ring" – from a bar. It also adds up. I replaced the fish net with a soft stretch bag. I sewed it myself. Heinz gun-from a special store. For entomologists. Easier. Perhaps stronger. But the price is almost 70 euros. Not for me yet...
On a slightly visible path of argali, we draw a slope. Go faster on it. The scree doesn't move so much. Here we are. We dug out seats in the slate. They sat down. We miss you ...
conversation. About Dagma to me Heinz ... he called her in the expedition. What are you! She needs a chaise longue with a lift. Coffee in bed.
And here they are again on vacation apart.
Sad...
- Divorse, Heinz! (Get a divorce!)
- Nou ...
says that in Germany the "fine" is severe. I don't have any money. And he was used to his wife. A house on it and cooking. Runs wild, gets drunk...
It's just like us.
Oh, women, how to "pair" you with butterflies? How to break up money... there is no way to do that. He is divorced twice. Here I am sad too…

I left Heinz on the slope. I decided to climb the mountain myself. There the view is very real. Also rare. Menetriye the bear.
More valuable than a moth, though! The opposite of "portrait". Large and bright. Caught somewhere here. In the meadows. More often in bad weather. There seems to be a meadow near the top of my head...
The climb is harsh. Skidding in the rocks. Oh, the butterflies! Serious sports. Here you can enjoy mountaineering, tennis, and running. Long jump sometimes. And in height. And even swimming, when the river is years away! Orientation. Bicycle… And skis! I drove down the shale "mega-step" more than once.
The top, finally! And lugovinka…
I'm waiting for the bears. Admiring the wonderful panorama of the mountains.

Suddenly, the sun! We need to go down. For the moth! I'm going down. With a small scree-rushed! I'm moving out in seven-mile strides. An attraction! The slopes are far away ...
Heinz is running! He waved the net. Then he froze. No, he didn't "hit" ... who was he catching there?!
I rush down. Moth from under your feet! I missed!! It's hard to say...
Once again, Heinz is running! Net in waves… It gets stuck. Well!.. On the stones of the hoop!
"Goth! (Caught it!)
Moving out. Reaching out with his hand ... ah-ah! It's missing out.
"Arcticus!!
It shines. I saw the view of my cherished dreams!
Another race...
- Heinz, there!..
The gray-haired babochnik rushes along the slope. The Panama hat flew away. Swing... more! Well!.. I took it!!
"Ah goth!
Visigoth with a spear… A vision. With a net collector! Exultant, happy Heinz!
I caught the second one. And I hooked two of them with my left one…
The sun went behind the clouds.
Everything! Goodbye, Suntar Hayata. We're going down, and tomorrow we'll go to Ust-Nehru. Catch a car. Heinz said two would be enough for him!

---

The end date is tomorrow.

This post was edited by Wild Yuri - 05/17/2011 00: 42

One of the waterfalls

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