FIRST PIKE

Two hours ... the night. And on the street - as light as day, and even purple sun caught the edge of the horizon. But for some reason it is in the northwest and quickly crawls along the north and not south side of the horizon and from east to west and vice versa, from west to east! A few minutes ago, a train, where we came from such a distance, winked goodbye to the last red light of the car and went further north to the Arctic Circle. We were 14 people. Piled on the platform 14 and 7 backpacks prohibitive packages with our collapsible kayaks "Taimen-2." Two and a half days we were traveling from Chisinau to raft on the river Karelian Vonge, pass on it for almost 200 kilometers, three dozen rapids to overcome, and the two thresholds, which are considered impassable, to enclose. In general, water is the standard tourist trip II-nd grade. So the standard that this same train unload three groups, ready to make the same journey. Prior to the lake shore, where we are going to "be on the water," the well-trodden path of 300 meters - 400, but under a 40-pound rucksack and a half kayak package that weighs no less than 20 pounds, this road seems endless. At the lake we are waiting for a surprise - the people there, as well the fair. Good three dozen teams from all over the European USSR are prepared to travel. Some cooks food on a fire, someone collects kayaks, someone set up the tent and went to bed (two in the morning too!), And someone sings a song with a guitar. We briefly discussed it and decided that on the banks of us sleep peacefully fails, properly pack the gear and food in such a crush germoupakovki not work, and therefore, it is necessary to quickly build canoes, somehow managed to load food and stuff, and go to one of the 144 Islands, which is rich in Ang-Lake, and already there quietly prepare breakfast, relax, sleep, after a sleepless night, distribute and package products, repack personal belongings and equipment. At one kilometer from the coast could see some kind of island is quite large, with a sandy beach on the north side and dense spruce forest. What is the kilometer for kayaks? Twenty minutes later we landed on the sand at the northern part of the island, and after another half hour in the clearing of 50 meters from the shore stood a tent, a fire was burning, boil the water in buckets, whether on duty prepared a late dinner, or early breakfast. And then I grabbed a spinning rod, a box of spoons and ran to the shore. For me, hastened to the entire group, except for the duty, to see how this fish will be caught with a hefty piece of iron on the tee so even without the worm or at least the bread on it. You've got to make a small digression.



In sports there is always a tourist group leader hike (we have the head of a girl), assistant manager, who is responsible for all the products of the menus and commands the process of cooking (I was elected as assistant warden), the physician who completes a first aid kit, keeps stock of alcohol, monitors the health of participants and is struggling with calluses on their hands, one to two repairman who carry a set of tools, rubber, adhesive, all kinds of tubes, screws, rivets, and are engaged in repair of damaged vessels. And since the trip was done in Karelia, where, as everyone knows, is very, very many fish, the head of the campaign decided that we should take a fishing tackle to catch that same fish and then eat it by the fire. A week before departure, we will once again come together to discuss and resolve past issues. The head (and I wonder stressed that we have a campaign manager was a woman), is asked sternly:

- Who is fishing tackle?
Tackles were just me.
- What kind of gear you need to take? Rods fit? I have two rods.
- Perhaps the suit - said our leader. - It is better to take the stick (and it is said - "stick"), trinkets with this (she showed the ring finger) and stick to that necessary to bind the spool with thread. Thread attached to this special piece of iron, and thrown into the water. Then twist the coil is wound on a drum thread, piece of iron pulled to the shore and fish lacking this piece of iron. Here, the coil and thread, I have (it showed the inertial reel "Neva" on the drum which was really wound Nylon thread). I just do not know what to skewer on a hook.
- What is that, spinning, or what? - I asked.
- That's it, seems to be spinning - glad our leader. - A piece of iron you have?
- I have a few spinners. And you can buy. And I'll take my reel.
- All agreed, will be our fisherman! - Strictly said the manager. - Do not forget to buy a couple of rigs and be sure to take with electrical tape to attach the coil was something to stick.

I was spinning the "Leningrad" - duralumin tube with a blue plastic handle with a reel, which was inserted the tip of the thick fiberglass, probably with a pencil. Test of the rods started, I think, with 40 grams and ended with the 150th, and perhaps Pobol. And the coil was "Dolphin-M". I wrapped it Klin 0.25 mm fishing line, took a box of decks, among whom were the "Baikal" and "Trofimovsky" and kolebalkami "Norwich", "Pakhra", "Shtorling", folded into a canvas bag two bamboo dvuhkolenki - on This my cooking and over.


1 - Baubles "Baikal", 2 - Baubles "Trofimovsky", 3, and 4 - unnamed spinners who have been in that journey. Kolebalka regularly worked on the pike.

The most interesting thing happened on the train, somewhere on the second day's journey. The train braked sharply either, or much out of his pocket and jerked my backpack from the top shelf had the box with spinners. Ba-boom on the floor! My baits were scattered throughout the compartment, where just met a group of either lunch, or eased jokes. The children quickly picked up the spoon, but do not lay them in a box, and began to carefully examine it.
- Hey, why are such large hooks? Are they just caught a big fish?
- Why a triple hook? That to him, caught three fish at once?
I tried to tell them how to fish with spinning, although he much experience in the spinning did not. I'm not lazy, took the rod and reel attached to it and showed how zabra-cribe trolling and how it plays, and the predator takes her for running away and grabs the fish. But I do not believe it.
- What did the fish such a fool to miss the piece of iron with hefty hooks?
And even more I could not believe when they learned that the tee is not skewer or a worm, or beetle, or even a piece of bread. The head of me at first tried to somehow maintain, but when I saw my bezinertsionnuyu coil, then it snikla. I think that before she saw only the coil of the "Neva".
- Ha-ha, the fish will eat a piece of iron with bare hooks! Look for fools!

And the group, all 12 people plus a manager who joined them, almost daily, in every way "wax" of his caretaker, and, in combination, the fisherman. And telling jokes about fishing, and poems composed and sang a couple songs, and teasing, and teasing, and teasing ... Sharp tongue, have been friends of mine, hard, they got me ...

And now ... I grabbed his "Leningrad" and ran to rehabilitate themselves. Coast is rocky, steep, covered with hefty boulders. Of course, my friends and comrades, free watch, gathered behind me, and together, and I must say, rather sarcastically, commented on my every move. I tied the "Baikal", found among the boulders at the water's edge, more or less flat stone, and, though he staggered and swayed with each of my motion, made the first cast. Spoon flew 20 meters. Slow Posting - zero. Another cast, second, third - zero. Change lures to "Trofimovsky." Zero, zero, zero ... The lure flies to 22-23 feet, very good start, is tight, uporisto, petal spinning wildly - trolling is clearly seen in 7-8 feet in the clear water the color of weak tea. A few meters behind him in every way my friends practiced their wits about fish, fishing in general, and his caretaker in particular. I have no time quarrel with them, I try not to pay attention to these land rats, but until I hear the laughter, and I understand that if you do not catch fish, it is best to tie myself a stone around his neck - and jump into the water ...

Finally, from the fire smelled something indescribably delicious, loud cries of duty, and a log knocking on an empty bucket began to call us for a meal. My "wit" as the wind blew - almost three days of eating canned food, but here both the first and the second, and cocoa condensed milk as you want ... Still, they had a good steward, though they did so "paraffins." I go to the fire did not feel like I was well aware of what awaits me there. "Threw for 10 more minutes - I decided - by the time they will eat both the first and second and pass away to the cocoa. A wicked man only when he is hungry. Well-fed soon becomes good."

A couple more casts - zero. All you have to go. Waving his "Leningrad" - and then swung the stone beneath me, the foot slipped into the water and lure flew away to the right, almost parallel to the shore. As long as I climbed back into the stone, until it caught the balance point, spoon fell to the bottom. And then the sea of ​​stones. Quickly do a couple of turns the coil. Hitch? No, like the unhooked. 2-3 meters back toe. Vershinki raise up, pull rod - like bait budged and went, but it is as if I drag a load. Very quickly steeper coil and suddenly feel that this "something" which I took to be a branch or a small snag, suddenly went first in one direction, then another. And at 7-8 meters away from the shore almost see the pike! Pike! I see that tee caught her upper jaw, and petal "Trofimovsky" continues to rotate it in front of the muzzle. Again, the foot slips off the rock, followed by another, but I still steeper and steeper coil, and my first pike in his life, not really opposing, close to my flat stone. And then I catch her eye. You know, still shivers down my spine. Pike's eyes seemed to me (and maybe those were) a blood-red. And how much was in them a cold fury, fierce anger and hatred! Just tore the creeps. A lot of pike-fishing in the campaign, and after there were also other predators, but such anger, such hatred, such cold fury not seen anywhere else ever. Pound pike calmly gave himself "insolently" get right on the beach, not struggling, not fluttered when I pulled out of her mouth tee. All of which there is more fishing! I was beside myself with happiness. Grab a pike in one hand and hide it behind his back, spinning take in another - and trotted to the fire.
     Friends and comrades have indeed skhomyachili nourishing soup, porridge streskali double standard corned beef and happy, sat with his liter mugs of hot cocoa by the fire on the logs. But I noticed they were twenty feet. No, they are kinder, even after a good dinner, jokes, podkolochki addressed to me fell like a horn of plenty. I made a sad face, dropped his head and slowly walked to the fire, still hiding his hand behind his back with a pike. All 12 people had joined him, and the head, five minutes excelled in wit caretaker about the campaign, which has decided to feed a group of fish, but for some reason thinks that the fish are so stupid that it would be caught on any piece of iron with hefty hooks, and without any- or nozzle. When they got tired a little bit, I decided that my hour had come, and abruptly threw out his hand while holding a pike in it. If at this moment the earth opened beneath his feet would be, or they would have seen in the waters of Loch Ness monster, I swear, their eyes would be opened so wide and jaw dropped because it had not, as at the sight of this, in general, quite ordinary, hair grass. A few minutes a deathly silence. I approached everyone and, in Chekhov, "eynoy snout poked him in his ugly face." Everyone walked around .. Each poked .. For I was hungry, and therefore evil. But to their credit, came to their senses quickly. They first, until I ate soup, happily jumped on the poor pickerel, squeezed, groped, peered into the mouth, the girls even began to stroke her head, and pity, the poor thing. Then again took up the caretaker. Like, can not be that the fish caught without some piece of iron heads. They were all on the beach and saw, as I whipped before their eyes water and caught nothing. Apparently, when they left, I was pinned to the hook of some worm or bug, and compelled the poor fish.

- No, I - excuse me, choking porridge stew with a double standard - I do not have any bugs, worms. Trolling, I caught it! On the b-l-e-s-n-y! Here on this! Here it is attached to the scaffold!
- It can not be! - Answered all 12 people had joined him, and the head of the campaign, - the fish is never so stupid to be caught on a bare piece of iron!

Cooks poured me a cup of cocoa and started cleaning buckets. The other fellow comrades began to dismantle personal belongings are clearly going to sleep well for 600 minutes per eye. Pike lay forlornly on a piece of the film near the fire. The head of the campaign decided to console her caretaker (after all, in a campaign assistant manager - right hand the head):

- Well, the whole lake was a stupid fish. We will assume that you caught it on his piece of iron. But you did go, anywhere dug worms, and that the only stupid fish you caught, and the other fools to bite on a bare piece of iron, on the route may not be.

What should I do? Friends and comrades clearly despised me for lying, even the head, which is usually a mountain behind his caretaker, does not believe him. One of the attendants began to clean the pike, and I took a spinning rod and walked back to the water. Here is my space, so "my" stone, which I slipped into the water twice, that's between the two boulders on the beach, I pulled my first pike in the life ... And as she looked at me! Br-rr! Horror! Again unfold spinning, casting, wiring - and nothing! Behind him suddenly:

- Ha-ha-ha! Also, the angler turn up!

The whole team at full strength, even the chef on duty, who were at this time to wash pots and clean the fish, even the manager, came quietly to the shore and wait for my first cast, gave vent to his wit. I was throwing, throwing, and they "paraffin" "paraffin" .. And do not leave them somewhere to the side, the shore rocky, steep, littered with stones.

Finally, they got tired. Yes, and had an almost sleepless night and a very busy lunch. Yawning and stretching, they became one away from the shore to their tents, and I continued to lash the water, changing kolebalki on the turntables, holding it fast, then slow, then the top layer, then vpolvody - at the bottom of the conduct was afraid, because fear is hooks - there is still 12 days of the campaign, and I have a total of 10 lures. North wind suddenly strengthened, on the lake immediately boiled steep wave. And 22-23 meters in front of him, I saw a huge pitfall. While the wind was weak, it was not visible, but when the wave is cleared, its upper part was then to appear for a moment, then again, hiding under the next wave. The perfect place to stop a predator!

This I know, but the problem was that I did not throw to 5 meters of the stone my bait, and additional cargo, I was not. "That would put the bait so that it fell to 2-3 meters further and 20-30 centimeters to the left or right of the stone". - I thought. But undershoot followed short. Charter waving his "Leningrad", I decided to change tactics. First of all, you need to take the heaviest lures. Having estimated the palm of your bait, I decided that the worst is kolebalka "Shtorling." Scored a couple of times. Yes, it flies a little further, but still lacks 2-3 meters. Well, was not, it is still wet his pants to his knees and shoes squelching. Vodicka degrees 12, I think, stand for 10 minutes. And bravely jumped into the water. Chilly, but tolerable. He passed a couple of meters ahead, throw - undershoot. Another cast - like flew fine, but went to the right by 2 meters. Another cast - went to the left than the right. And so it went: that undershoot, then right, then left. 15 minutes completely stiff. All, I'm going! .. Then spoon fell exactly where I wanted. He gave her a little deeper, a pair of coil turns - and a powerful jerk, even through the "Leningrad" felt a blow! Trolling someone desperately fluttering, mechas from side to side, the line was cutting the water with a swish, clutch screamed twice. What kind of beast is sitting on the hook if the resistance pound pike is not nothing compared to what creates my new prey? Pyachus ago, cling to a rock and falling into the water to your selected flat rock. The coil is not steeper, invisible big fish raging somewhere in the 20 meters from me, trying to pull the rod out of the hands. Finally, the extraction of tired. I made a couple of turns the coil - like yield. Just a couple of turns - goes, though rushed to the side. A few more turns - see, goes to the bank without the old swagger. In the water, something flashed coal black with red spots, but I can not examine their prey beneath me reeling rock solid around the boulders and I have nothing to catch it, I do not even have nets for catching butterflies. Oh, was not, I spend fishing line between two boulders and dragged the fish to shore, just as it pulled in front of a pike. I can not believe - on the rocks is a hefty bass!