Tales of an entomologist. About adventures and travel

ancient photos

Pictures:

_____________________________.JPG — (87.44к)


________________.JPG — (66.03к)


_____________.JPG — (50.09к)


______________.JPG — (59.88к)


____________.JPG — (57.53к)


______________.JPG — (36.82к)


________________5.JPG — (33.68 k)


___________________________.JPG — (34.62к)


______autocrator.JPG — (45.41к)


_____________.JPG — (86.46к)


________________________v_kontakte.JPG — (35.84к)

I fell through the ice many years ago.Once-in the 10th grade of school I studied-we went fishing with the boys on the islands in the spring - the ice only remained along the coast-I fell through -I went light along the edge-the depth was scalded with boiling water-I grabbed the edges of the ice and flew out in two seconds-a fire was lit-warmed up-dried out.It was already April-warm, sunny.
Fell through the winter in the cold 10 years ago on a winter fishing trip.Not far from the shore - water up to the throat of everything.But it was -20 degrees.I failed-a lot of clothes and a backpack, a sled.The sheepskin coat, sweaters, and cotton pants were immediately soaked,and the backpack became very heavy with water.The boys helped to get out on the ice and get a sled with tackle and fish.Running to the beach-while the wood was cut and the fire was lit-I could not really undress myself - I was covered with ice.The boys took everything off me and rubbed it with vodka.At minus twenty, I was standing naked by the fire while my clothes were drying.

In the mountains, I often crossed icy mountain rivers-there were a lot of jokes.In the north-
my photos-Norilsk, Lake Lama-I crossed a shallow river-I go into the water slowly-the flow of water tries to knock me down.I hold my shoes in my hand.I go in,I go in slowly-it's cold and knee-deep at first, then deeper,deeper, balls in the water and an orgasm, even the hair on my head moves-I dropped
one shoe-it floated-with the current-I followed it.

In the Pamirs, I climbed along a stream in the early morning along a gorge.I set up my tent, crossed the stream over the rocks to the other side, and went up.I spent the whole day walking around, looking at butterflies, caterpillars, beetles, and grass.I go down in the evening.The stream turned into a river.There is little water in the morning-it is cold at night-the glacier does not melt.During the day, the sun-ice melts and in the evening the water in rivers and streams is the most.I see the river is whole,and my tent is on the other side.I want to eat,a seagull-and everything is on the other side.It's getting cold-the primus wants to be heated up.There is no firewood in the Pamirs.I walked for 2 hours-I was looking for a place to cross-I had to climb high under the glacier, there the stream is narrower, less-I crossed.Almost swimming.I came to the tent already at 2 o'clock in the morning-not zhramshi since the morning of last day-at night about zero degrees Celsius-I'm wet-kayfets and not an orgasm.

I have waded Kara-Kujur 2 times this year. His companions twirled a finger at his temple. However, Andrey (babochkolov) crossed the same river on a spanned concrete pillar, bent in the center and overgrown with algae in the middle (very slippery because of this). I went in there first, too-no, in the furnace... My 100+ kg and a dangling (even concrete) pole under me, and one and a half meters of slippery greenery in the center - to the therapist. I'd rather freeze my feet, but I'll cross without incident. True, I had to look for a ford - but this is the tenth case

And we were washing up there!!!

There was nothing else on Dolon. And in the stream we swam ( the one in kok maynok)

There was such a story in Mongolia.
The year was very rainy and for more than fifty expedition days only three were sunny. It was constantly raining. The manure that had accumulated there for centuries got wet and turned into huge beds of champignons. Getting out of the car, in five minutes, they could be cut up for a whole day of trading in a huge supermarket. But that's not the point right now.
We drove south through Hangai. You climb up one river (Urd Tamir) to the pass, fall down another (Tuin Gol), and go to the Mongolian Altai. You go back as well.
On the way there, we didn't even notice the river. The chicken is knee-deep.
On the way back, we didn't recognize the Twin Gol Valley. Five fast-flowing riverbeds.
I had to force it. I would get out of the car and wade across the river. If it's knee-deep, you can drive through. If you hit the scrotum, you need to look for another place. This plan worked wonderfully well until I was swept away by the torrent. A rock wriggled out from under my feet, and I hit the water face first.
The boys were sympathetic. Rubbed with a towel, changed into dry clothes, and poured a glass of vodka.
I refused to force the next water line. It was moving too fast.
As a result, our UAZ right in the middle of the river opened the kingstons and went to the bottom. Water really poured through the window. We rushed to save the property. First of all, of course, the material and your simple belongings. And the Chinese noodles, which we had several boxes of, sailed away in the direction of China, to their historical homeland.
We stand on the bank and scratch our wet turnips. A drunken Mongol appears on a yak (that year all the Mongols we met were drunk). The yak's bridle is passed through the nostrils. He hooks the bridle on the mirror of the UAZ and tries to pull our car out with his yak. The yak refuses to tear its ass and muzzle out.
We end up camping on the beach. I take another glass and refuse to take part in any further events.
At night, two drunken Mongolian cowboys appear on UAZ trucks. And they pull out their drowned relative.
Gasoline from the gas tank and oil from the engine also floated away in the direction of China. The Chinese were extremely lucky that year.
Our hard-working Mongol driver resuscitates the car over the next two days, and we continue climbing the pass.
This story continues beyond the pass.

In 1995, the four of us went to Tuva from Saratov.Two men-artists-much older than me-one collected butterflies from childhood.With Kumakov(book-Lepidoptera of the Saratov region.in collaboration with Korshunov Yu. P.) was familiar.And a young guy-a year younger than me-a guy who believes very much-now works as a priest-but a mountaineer-met in the Saratov mountaineering Club.We took the train to Novokuznetsk, where we spent the night and got to Abakan in the morning.Bus from the bus station 14.05.95 to Erzin-south of Tuva-Oeneis elwesi, O. sapozhnikovi.And we spent a lot of time all over Tuva until mid-August.They lived in June-July for 20 days in an apiary in the Begredinsky gorge (the second one is south of the village of Sush)Oeneis diluta,O.tarpeia,C.aurora,P.phoebus.My grandfather, a Russian beekeeper, lived in Tuva all his life.Some of the stories were told by my grandfather,and I saw bear fishing myself:
The sources of the Yenisei are Bi-Khem and Ka-Khem.We sit on a loach-we look through binoculars-1 km-a bear-4 years old goes down a steep, grassy slope to the river.Sits down by the water-sits for 10 minutes and sharply clawed paw in the water-pulls out on the claws of grayling and throws on the slope behind him-10 meters. Sits further-five minutes-takoyzhe sharp blow into the water with his claws-pulls out the second.He throws it back.I caught the third one.Through binoculars from afar, you can see grayling half-dead-beating on the slope and slowly towards the water-you can see-one has swum away, the second, the third.The bear sits with its back to them, but it doesn't see them.The bear turns back-where is the fish?No,he got up on his hind legs and yelled.He sat down again by the water's edge.He sits there-claws strike-caught-turns around with the fish back and didn't throw it,but looked around and put the fish under his ass.Sat down, the second, the third-all under the ass.I caught about five of them,turned around,and ate.

Grandfather-a beekeeper from Begredinsky Gorge (lives in Kyzyl) went hunting in Shurmak alone in winter-he shot a moose in the ass-the moose is from him-he followed him in bloody footsteps.I passed through two ridges - 40 km from the village.The moose was exhausted from blood loss.Caught up on skis.I took off my skin-it's already night.I put a good fire for the whole night so as not to burn out-two pine trees.Cold, minus 30.Wrapped up in a fresh elk skin-mezdra did not take off, and sleep.Warm,good.He wakes up at dawn, unable to move.The hide hardened.On the verge of life and death, he scratched the hide with his nails in a lying, concrete state-he reached with the tips of his fingers to the knife in his boot and with micro movements cut the skin from the inside for half a day to free his hands.Miraculously alive remained.

He went at night to hunt a bear in skradok(a small hut is made up of logs-you crawl in-there is a loophole in the front, there is an entrance at the back).It lies at a watering hole in the summer.A mother bear came with two cubs.We drank and walked right past him.Do not shoot in such cases.He has a TOZ-12 smoothbore rifle.One bear cub separated and became interested in his skradk.I started messing around.My mother came up and smelled that she was driving the child away,and she went to my grandfather's embrasure with her paw to sort it out.I scratched his face and started breaking logs.Grandfather-to fight off-finkoyu it on the paw from the inside of skradka.Ta yell, get mad.Again paws with claws through the embrasure grandfather on the muzzle.Grandfather holds the barrel,but does not shoot until the last one.The bear circled around and came up to him from the other side.Paws on the legs.Grandfather gun tried in the opposite direction to the entrance to re-aim, turn over-figs there.You can't turn it back-it's a cramped room-you need to disassemble the trunk.She'd scratched it pretty well.My grandfather is a man,I talked to him-a real man, but that night he defecated in his pants.She harassed him for two hours.Then she left with the cubs.

They came to a lake in Tuva for fishing with nets.Nature, there is a lot of vodka.We unloaded from the car on the shore.Evening, the table is set-used in anticipation of fishing.It's getting dark-suddenly an unfamiliar Tuvan grandfather appeared and let's use matyukami on them-why are you sitting there, stooges-the wind is changing-straighten the nets at a run and style them on the shore.They tell him - you're a fool grandfather or not, what are you fussing about-sit down to a forty-degree meal with us.That one doesn't.Run, climb-lay nets on the beach by the surf on the sand.They laid nets on the sand in the surf-the Tuvan calmed down-sat down with them to have a meal with Mendeleev's drink.A hurricane rose(he himself fell under the Shurmak-the forest floor fell down-it was a terrible thing).The water on the lake began to be driven by the wind to their shore.The water is coming in-the nets on the poles are standing up by themselves.In the morning, the wind began to subside,and the water began to wane.The nets were exposed-the fish threw the floor of the KAMAZ onboard, including taimen.

In the Philippines in 1996, we stayed in a villa with local rich people
in Cagayan de Oro on the island of Mindonao.The outskirts of the city-the forest is not bad on the mountain.The undergrowth is knocked out.During the day, individual Chilasa, Nymphalidae, Pieridae, Delias.It's normal at night.Many Noctuidae. Attacus caesar years started in late February.Sphingidae-60 species.Nyctalemon, Acherontia lachesis and styx are many.Chalcosoma and large nutcrackers fly to the light a lot.Noctuidae,Geometriidae.In the Philippines, the cuisine is simple-everyone eats boiled rice with butter fried fish or tiny pieces of chicken every day.Lots of hot sauces are always on the table.We stayed away for three weeks.The people were completely unfamiliar to us.The city of a million people.On the outskirts of the mountain with a forest - just for us to collect insects.Let's go to the mountain.We were walking past the villa and knocked on the door-like you can have a drink, and then you want to eat so much that there is no place to spend the night.A guard opened the gate.I went to report to the hostess,she invited us to visit.She has a younger brother-a guy 2 years older than me.We sat and drank rum and had a pleasant conversation.They are interested-they have never seen any Russians.We waited until the evening for her husband to come home from work.My husband arrived and we started talking.They let us stay with them for free.Allocated a room.Her younger brother went everywhere with us every day.An erudite guy-it's interesting to communicate.
There is my humorous post about this trip on the scientific forum molbiol.ru/forums Entomology Tales of the entomologist Gundorov.A trip to the Philippines is expensive.There are few foreigners there.All Americans, Japanese, few Europeans.Everyone is rich.White local girls wave their hands from the opposite street and shout-American Friend, ai Lavue.The city of a million people-caught a taxi-we say-we go to the library, museum or institute.The taxi driver said we don't have one.
The owners lived and ate rice.We decided to cook something ourselves-treat them to Russian national cuisine.Supermarkets have everything there.My partner-a karate guy (a specialist in Carabidae and Cerambycidae-no surnames-but I think almost everyone knows him and his father Vladimir Sergeevich) - made a great Uzbek pilaf.Although they only saw cows,dwarf pigs,chickens,turkeys in the provinces there.With what pleasure they ate and wrote down the recipe.The next day it was my turn to serve them a super olivier-Russian national cuisine.They squealed with delight.
In the Philippines, I first tasted 40 types of fruit that I didn't even know existed.I had eaten mango before in Germany(now they sell it everywhere in Russia,but the green one is not fully ripe).I like mango.There I plucked it from the trees myself.Papaya-I like it.Duru-durian fruit is a separate thing-I tried it there for the first time.It stinks like shit.They plucked a bigger pumpkin from the tree and sat and ate and chewed, holding their fingers over their noses to keep from sniffing.
Cool stuff.
I tried swordfish there for the first time-blue merlin-a warm-blooded fish-super-liked it.At a bazaar in the Philippines, we bought for only$ 4 kilogram.Snakes I used to eat a lot in Central Asia-garbage-like fish and chicken.

This post was edited by gundorov - 05.10.2009 14: 59

Continuation

They began to fall down the Urd Tamir, and, immediately, the well-worn track turned into a channel for two small (so far) streams.
Further, more. As a result, we stood on the bank of a swollen river, consisting of five stormy branches.
I had to play the role of a pilot again and plow through the water in search of a ford. We found a ford, but the last branch, which was the most stormy and deep, gave us some apprehension.
We got a pack-bag out of the UAZ, prepared breakfast, and held a council of war.
It's a hundred and fifty meters to the other bank.
We sit and think about the duma.
On the other bank, a small jeep stops and a bearded man of European appearance gets out of it. He wanders thoughtfully along the shore, absently looking at the landscape. A UAZ goat pulls up behind him and the Mongols fall out noisily. Four drunken Mongolian men, three Mongolian kitchens, and one sober Mongolian goat. Women busily take out simple belongings from the car, and begin to cook. Drunk Mongolian men tie a rope around themselves and explore the fairway. A Mongolian goat and a man of European appearance do not take part in the commotion.
Finally, the fairway is found, the Mongols are loaded into the car, we uncover the camera and get ready to shoot.
UAZ pulls up, falls off a cliff and begins
to sink.!!, - sums up Seryoga.
- During the filming of the film, not a single animal was injured, - confirms Vovka.
The back gate of the UAZ swings open, and the Mongols and the goat are evacuated from it.
"Wai, wai, wai!"!!, - shout drunken Mongols and run with a rope to a peasant of European appearance. They attach a cable to the jeep and ask them to pull them out of the pool. A bearded man of European appearance agrees. The tug of war lasts about five minutes. The cable breaks with a loud pop and knocks out the rear window of the jeep.
"Wai, wai, wai!"!!, - Mongolian women shout and use a repair kit consisting of cardboard and tape to seal the hole.
Seryoga's nerves break down, and he runs across the river, giving the command to get ready and load on board.
He talks animatedly with a bearded man of European appearance and also runs back.
- Let's go! This is a Frenchman. I asked him to back me up if we were going to stall.
We start and successfully force the first four minor branches.
At this time, a bearded man of French appearance jumps into a jeep and dumps down the valley.
"Beep!" Beep! And beep three more times! I've never liked the French, " says Seryoga.
But there is nowhere to retreat. We are also crossing the fifth and most dangerous arm, almost stalling right in the middle of it.
"Let's catch up with the Frenchman, give him a hard time, and no Red Cross or French Legion will help him," Vovka teases.
After driving no more than five meters away from the ferry, our car dies once again.
I had to abandon retribution and engage in resuscitation of the long-suffering UAZ.
This time, the trambler went down.

We had a guy on an expedition in the north-a prankster.We found a frozen mammoth.They dug it out-made fun of it-cooked the meat-the dogs didn't eat it.The guy kicked the wool off him and knitted a sweater-he sent the application to the Guinness Book of Records-the only mammoth sweater in the world.

We had a guy on an expedition in the north-a prankster.We found a frozen mammoth.They dug it out-made fun of it-cooked the meat-the dogs didn't eat it.The guy kicked the wool off him and knitted a sweater-he sent the application to the Guinness Book of Records-the only mammoth sweater in the world.

Sergey, be afraid of God! This is pure plagiarism by Mammoth and Sweater. I refer to the original source - Oleg Kuvaev "Territory", ed. Sovremennik Publ., 1975. Although, of course, maybe Kuvaev himself heard the same story from someone...

I agree.
It's too narrow. Usually they write about the whole mammoth found in permafrost in the press. How did we miss this?

Men
Oleg Kuvaev "Territory" -I haven't read it.I saw a baby mammoth in the Pet Museum in St. Petersburg.In Chukotka, they have been digging mammoths for a long time-business.They dig a lot -they sell them to China,Japan,and the States of Kostya(they don't seem to sell sweaters-I haven't heard of them).Mammoths just piled up on the Wrangel Island.12,000 years ago, the territory was flooded-they were surrounded by water-they died of starvation.The sea level rose by 180 meters.They went freely from Chukotka to Alaska in herds.A sweater from Taimyr-there are enough mammoths there, too.The sweater turned out cool-prickly.But a mammoth sweater.So much for the entomologist's Tales.Stories?

Also say-akstis.There was such nonsense.There was no weather for 10 days.Do not care-he knitted a sweater

Mammoths in the north in the permafrost just piled up.Sweaters can be imposed at least for sale - so.If they found a pair of autocrats mating in the permafrost, it would be more interesting.

Laughter with laughter.The crowd here is our entomological brother.Who only and where only was not.I've seen all sorts of things.We've been to places like this before, but no one has ever set foot in them.Surprised me with a mammoth sweater?This is-so-commonplace.Has no one ever seen Bigfoot?Or at least traces.Messner (a well-known mountaineer who conquered all the eight-thousand-meter mountains) saw the tracks-he writes in his book.Flying saucers?

In the press, a lot of chago write and do not write.In places.There was a movie about the mammoth bone trade 4 years ago on TV.

Men
Oleg Kuvaev "Territory" -I haven't read it.I saw a baby mammoth in the Pet Museum in St. Petersburg.In Chukotka, they have been digging mammoths for a long time-business.They dig a lot -they sell them to China,Japan,and the States of Kostya(they don't seem to sell sweaters-I haven't heard of them).Mammoths just piled up on the Wrangel Island.12,000 years ago, the territory was flooded-they were surrounded by water-they died of starvation.The sea level rose by 180 meters.They went freely from Chukotka to Alaska in herds.A sweater from Taimyr-there are enough mammoths there, too.The sweater turned out cool-prickly.But a mammoth sweater.So much for the entomologist's Tales.Stories?

You read it." He wasn't very fond of babblers.
I don't know about flying saucers and Bigfoot, but I should be more careful with mammoth wool sweaters... It's tales, of course, but other than you, people have been to Chukotka and Taimyrs...

That is, I wrote a lie or the truth?The Papaver message is assigned.Waiting for an answer.

This post was edited by gundorov - 08.10.2009 16: 27

I remember having a conversation with a friend-oh, he broke up: "lemmings are like rabbits! How healthy rabbits are! And the mosquitoes are there, the mosquitoes are biting through the tent! " At first he was very offended by our neighing. Then (after sobering up a little) he confessed: "well, less lemmings, less, a little. And the mosquitoes are weaker." And you're just so angry, too ... cannot. That's what the stories are for.

This is not a hint on this topic. The conversation really took place N years ago.

Yes, Papis and Gundorov are irreplaceable on expeditions.It won't be boring.I'm serious-thank you!
Well, the fact that you do not believe-so they are stories.

Hello to Tyler.You will be in Saratov-I invite you to visit me - without any problems to stay.We dive on the Volga in wetsuits for crayfish and shoot fish.Now duck, goose.On the boat we drive along the Vogue, along the channels overgrown with reeds and reeds.Let's cook duck shulum.Fish hoard on a barrel.You'll lick your fingers.There is a generator-we will catch it.Only Pieris napi,Nymphalis polychloros,N. urticae,Inachis io,Catocala fraxini,C. nupta were on the islands during the weekend,except for fishermen and hunters.Rain and cold-plus 6 was at night.It was warmer underwater at night with a flashlight in the hydra.

My site http://butterfly.h18.ru

What is the maximum size of the largest recorded specimens of day and night butterflies and beetles?What are the views?What is the wingspan of the smallest butterfly on the planet and bigfoot?

What is the wingspan of the smallest butterfly on the planet and bigfoot?

Maybe I'm confusing something, but bigfoot doesn't seem to have wings

Did you see him, and the female?

[quote=gundorov, 08.10.2009 02: 08]  Mammoths in the north in the permafrost just piled up.Sweaters can be imposed at least for sale - so.If they found a pair of autocrats mating in the permafrost, it would be more interesting.
[/quote]

[quote=gundorov, 08.10.2009 02: 23] ... What's the wingspan the smallest butterfly on the planet and bigfoot?

[quote=gundorov, 08.10.2009 17: 24]

I don't see the answer.You tend to quote or send to science fiction authors.Do you have your own opinion, or have you ever encountered mammoth sweaters,snowmen,flying saucers,barabashki?Maybe you also don't know how to guess from the hands and face of a person and tell the whole truth?How are you on expeditions-untrained?

I don't see the answer.You tend to quote or send to science fiction authors.Do you have your own opinion, or have you ever encountered mammoth sweaters,snowmen,flying saucers,barabashki?Maybe you also don't know how to guess from the hands and face of a person and tell the whole truth?How are you on expeditions-untrained?

What I did in the previous post.
No, and therefore I have no reason to share your delight...
But what is there to be able to do? - any normal adult does this easily, without studying any Alans Pisov and Pavlov Globes...
Yes, I manage somehow... And I am considered, by the way, a jolly fellow. Although, lately I've been trying to go alone - I want more and more peace and quiet, it's become more comfortable to be alone.
But still read O. Kuvaev! It is not appropriate for a person traveling in the North to have such a gap in the, so to speak, humanitarian sector of knowledge about it...

This post was edited by Papaver - 09.10.2009 01: 25

It was with great pleasure that I read Papis ' latest article on Mongolia. A beautiful country that gives wonderful experiences.
In the last expedition in 2009, we climbed into the remote border zone of Mongolia on the southern slope of the Aj-Bogdo mountain range. We didn't see any snowmen, although the locals seemed very unfriendly, very dirty and poor. Even the empty cans were taken away.
And in 2005, while exploring the sources of the Black Irtysh River in the extreme southwest of the Bayan-Ulga aimag, we were also in a very strict border zone. The Mongolian border guards were so overexcited that they jostled us for 5 days. Our meeting was marked by such a fact. We went down to the valley of the Elt-Gol river (an article on the fauna of this place was published in Eversmannia), somehow moved out, taiga, meadows above the waist - in short, the real Chinese Altai does not smell like Mongolia.
We had dinner and played cards. We write down the bill in the margins of the newspaper, where among various articles and photos krastok is topless. Well, such very, very innocent.
The border guards came to look at us, check it out, and they saw this newspaper. They seized her, mounted their horses, and rode to the outpost. One of the flooded feelings of the machine forgot-returned in 5 minutes. And gallop back.
We sit, laugh, and continue playing cards. And our driver Mishka, waited for a pause for an hour and then says thoughtfully
- Now the horses have already started

There is a well-known place in the Pamirs visited by entomologists in the Zaalaysky ridge-the Aram-Kungey tract.Там Parnassius charltonius romanovi,P.simonius simonius.Lenin Peak is nearby.
Now you can buy a natural stew of figs.One soy practically.Under Lenin Peak in the Pamirs in the base camp at 5500 m garbage.Climbers live there before climbing, undergo acclimatization.They bring a bunch of groceries with them.Everything is not eaten.After the ascent, the remains are thrown out, not too much down-there are no silovs after climbing to the top.And so it has been since Stalin's time.Chago there is no current.There is a glacier-food in the ice does not spoil-fresh meat.We woke up in the morning-no one wants to cook and the first question:
well, what are we going to cook men or go to the garbage dump to eat?We went to the garbage dump more often.Stewed meat, condensed milk.We found a jar of stewed meat from Stalin's time-it's all natural.

Something with entomologists ' tales is getting a little tight! Back and forth and it comes to "How I made a stool at the dacha, stood on it, fell and crushed a large dung beetle" It is necessary to tie up with the stories of mushroom hunters and successful fishermen.

No way-that's exactly what the topic is for.But how I caught insects, so please go to the "Fishing Reports".Well, it should be different somehow.And stories can be about anything-fishing, hunting, mammoths,mermaids-as long as they come from an entomologist

There's no point in sucking stories out of your finger or quoting someone else's if you don't have anything to remember...

I'm just wondering-if you're trying to shut your mouth here, in the topic,then on an expedition, at the campfire, will you do the same?!
Personally, I like the theme and storytellers.Of course, you don't need to take everything seriously, the main thing is that it would be interesting

What is the point of a conversation if you don't take the other person's words seriously??? And "it's time to quit" and "shut up dear ones" are somewhat different concepts...

What is the point of a conversation if you don't take the other person's words seriously???

"How?! And pop...child???"(c)

.. And "it's time to quit" and "shut up dear ones" are slightly different concepts...


The concepts are different - the meaning is the same.

This post was edited by Aaata - 10/17/2009 00: 06

Here's an example-
We were with Bad Den in Thailand.In the vicinity of Doi Intanon Park.We found a nice place on the shore of the lake.Near the university campus.Female.But more on that later.The lake is nice,we decided to put a screen on the shore-excellent shelling, we must fly.But the lake beckons....I undressed and jumped into the water!!!Den doesn't support me,and I row in the direction of the opposite bank,occasionally looking back at my bank.Suddenly I look-something climbs out on the shore, on the one that I was aiming to land.I looked closely-CROCODILES.Quickly so on the banks of the water jump out and in the nearest bushes crookshanks, but quickly get away.I didn't want to frighten them any further,and the beach was no longer so inviting,but something gave me the strength to break down to my native shore at full speed.

Here is such a bike.Is it worth discussing?No, of course not.Read it,smile,and cheer up.

 
The concepts are different - the meaning is the same.

Concepts without meaning?????????????????? Oops...

I think all the entomologist's stories deserve attention, because we spend a lot of time in nature, so all this nonsense happens...
Here and there

I agree with taler