Karelian forests and a brave Muscovite. A story of 20 days of survival

2024 Author: Seth Attwood | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-16 15:55

As an intellectual from Moscow, he planned to live 20 days in the Karelian forests in winter, having built a dugout there. An interesting large photo reportage, we recommend you to watch it.

While the impressions are fresh, I decided to unsubscribe the report without postponing it on the back burner.

Yesterday I just returned from the Karelian forests. There were a lot of plans. I wanted to hunt, and fish, and at the same time build a new hut for myself. But basically I wanted to remember the old - how in these places I once had my own plot, I lived in a dugout and hunted mink and marten. Nostalgia tortured me, I stayed too long … And it's time to take a little rest from the computer, so that my hands do not think that they are attached to me only for the keyboard.

The autumn was wonderful. For a long time I chose the moment to throw myself on the site on time - preferably a week before the freeze-up. in order to catch more fish for the bait and have time to line up before the onset of cold weather. But plans at work and the vagaries of nature got in the way. In short, I was late, and significantly late. From this the whole trip went awry. Well, what is - it is. It's too late to fix it. I'll start from the very beginning.

Out of habit, I got together thoroughly. I took with me about 150 kg of any payload. Basically, these are products and tools, a boat, nets, traps. It's hard for one, but it's calmer. Here is all my wealth - even my dog Chernusha looks at me with suspicion - has the owner not moved his mind for an hour? How is he going to drag all this, doesn't he want to harness me?

But, I'm already somehow used to it. My faithful partner in burbot fishing and a good old institute friend helped me to get to the station. Drove in my car. Into the train I unnoticed, one bag at a time, and when the conductor estimated the volume and gasped that there was too much luggage - it was already too late - the train started:)

At the station, the destination was met by another friend - they worked together on the expedition. Threw me as far as possible on the road in his car. And then there were no roads - you had to go by boat. Thank you friends! What would I do without you?

Having already dragged our things to the river bank in complete darkness, we parted. The comrade went home, and I stayed overnight on the shore. I was so tired that I didn't even make a fire. I just wrapped my head in a sleeping bag and fell asleep. At night I heard some rustling on the sleeping bag and realized that it was snowing. Still late … With this thought and fell into a dream.

And the morning was fun. Everything was in the snow.

And the boat, pumped up soon, looked somehow not very organic in such a situation.

My boat is new, wonderful! "Burbot" is called. Thanks to Misha from the Moscow design bureau "Stalker", which produces such wonderful boats. I do not hesitate to advertise his products! Wonderful working "barge". With a length of 4, 4 meters, it contains a lot of cargo, and at the same time itself weighs only 9, 5 kg! Just the dream of a lonely tramp.

But we must hurry. Yesterday, in the dark, I only saw that the river was unfrozen, and was delighted. But it turned out that only a small cove was not frozen, and huge ice fields float in the distance. Here I’m standing, holding the oar, in a moment I’ll sail away …

Problems appeared immediately - you couldn't get to the shore.

I find the narrowest bulkhead and accelerate, trying to make an icebreaker out of the boat:

Desperately threshing left and right with an oar, I break through a narrow passage in thin ice and break into open water. And behind with a rustle the spread ice fields are closing … They have broken through. The first attempt was successful.

But then they were less lucky. Slowly rafting and pushing away dangerous ice floes, I was annoyed at my delay. Little by little, but got closer to his destination.

And then the next problem - the coastal fast ice turned out to be much stronger than floating ice floes. Half an hour of furious felling was not allowed to come close to the shore. And you can't get out of the boat - the ice does not support the weight. I tried it several times, but wisely backed down.

There was only one option left - to raft further to the rapids, to the old timber-floating dam. There, the shores are not yet frozen due to the fast current. But on such a loaded boat I really didn’t want to go into the mouth of the dam. By itself, the fast current did not threaten the boat, but the old dam was covered in nails and sharp pieces of iron.

And to run into a nail or an old twisted lining of a timber tray at speed with a heavy board is still a perspective. Before you have time to gasp, you will drown the precious cargo, without which - the amba … I decided not to risk it and not try to slip between these dangerous posts with sticking out old nails.

This is what this ancient dam looks like in spring

While I was choosing a way to land ashore, floating ice fields gave me a gift. Under the influence of the wind, they opened for a minute, opening a small passage, I managed to quickly slip into it and safely moor to the shore

In a couple of minutes, the river, as if tired of holding the corridor, closed in front of our eyes these huge ice floes and the ice closed completely. Until spring. Managed!!! And as always, at the last moment … when will I learn to calculate the time?

He threw things ashore and pulled out a happy boat. Immediately began to drag things. The dugout in which I lived fifteen years ago is only three hundred meters away. Here is the place where my hunting dwelling once stood … not much of it remains:(

We urgently need to drag supplies and make a temporary dwelling. But the first thing you want to do is get some tea. The weather is frowning again, and from the sky it begins to fall, or drip. Plus, I can't wait to try out my new stove, specially purchased for this occasion. Here she is a beauty! Made of stainless steel, non-combustible, weighs only 6 kg. And the traction control system is wonderful. Can be set for a very long and economical combustion mode.

Tea, as you can see, boils on such a miracle stove in a matter of minutes:)

While I was drinking tea, it began to get dark rapidly. And I sit completely immersed in the memories of the past. With difficulty, I came to my senses from nostalgic memories, shook myself. It's time to get down to business, however. He added a column to the three pines and began to build the frame of his future refuge.

Snow was actively falling from the sky, and Chernukha climbed into the box with food, waiting for the end of construction. She needs to protect something, right?

Rather, rather, so that it would not fall asleep with snow at all, he began to build in haste, anyhow, like, tyap-blooper, "the house of the Pumpkin's godfather." All the same, temporary, I thought, forgetting the wise saying - "there is nothing more permanent than temporary":)

He quickly put on the stove, threw a drop of alcohol on the housekeeper so that he would not offend the dog and me, and having filled the stove with wood, he fell asleep benevolently under the cover of plastic walls.

And outside the snow was raging. A couple of times during the night I had to get up and knock on the tightly stretched roof to shake off the snow. And then an uneven hour will push through the film and then it will fall asleep on us.

That's about how I settled down. In the corner by the door there is a stove, a kettle with water from the nearest lake, firewood …

In the far corner, all the most valuable junk piled in a heap.

Opposite the stove there is a hunting ammunition in their heads and a sleeping place. In general, things are getting better slowly.

In the morning, barely having time to sip a cup of hot coffee, I of course ran to explore the lands. I always had traps on these logs.

Small, cluttered and fast streams connecting lakes with rivers - a mink's paradise

But it's time to get back from a walk and start building more serious housing. First of all, you need to make yourself a working tool.

Where can you go without a good and strong sledgehammer? Favorite Russian instrument. They say with the help of it and some expressions you can make whatever your heart desires:)

I took with me two brand new hatchets for testing. One carpenter, Nizhny Novgorod "Trud - Vacha", and the second seems to be some kind of German "Stayer". Somehow I didn't like the German at once, but I fell in love with the Nizhny Novgorod one. He sharpened it easily, so much so that the hair on his hand was shaved cleanly, and kept it for the most delicate work. And as a German he chopped firewood and did the rest.

Without a shovel, however, also nowhere … I began with earthworks, because the weather whispered that a little bit more and the earth would be seized by frost, and then it would not be so easy to dig. And whispered quite loudly, by the way. I understood that I needed to hurry up and was torn between hunting and construction. Especially after the first attempts to dig. I barely dug a small hole, and I turned a pretty decent pile of stones out of it … If this continues, then perhaps I will nama … Eh, my long-suffering back is my back … red bristle:)

Dreams that I would catch a mountain of fish for the bait-napkin vanished like smoke. I did not dare to put the nets in such weather. I remembered my past experience of my youth - when the exposed net froze into the young ice during the night, and I, shaking with fear, crawled on my belly to rescue my wet nurse from the ice captivity. Oh, and then I bought because of my youth and stupidity … Now I do not risk it like that.

Nevertheless, I had some kind of fish, and I decided to put iron at least on this pitiful bait. All the same, I already began to understand that sensible fishing is not expected this season. But I still wanted to spend time with maximum benefit.

My house, which I called the "aquarium", turned out to be a very comfortable home. The stove fired day and night, not allowing the room to be cooled.

On the second day of my stay, I made solid bunks so that I would not sleep on the ground.

And he even managed to indulge in pleasures in the form of reading a book with a mug of hot tea in his hands.

And I also had a receiver and a piece of wonderful bacon! These two good friends did not allow me to overwork, and I made myself a lunch break at a construction site, along with news and political information, so as not to tear myself away from the world at all:)

True, soon there was no time for relaxation. The frost was growing stronger, and the bright day in the north is very short. In fact, only 7 hours of daylight and there is no way to lose it. It turns out very difficult - you just "swing", lo and behold, and already it got dark … I had to break the regime. Getting up at 6 in the morning, having breakfast is no longer just a cup of coffee, according to the city's habit, but thoroughly and densely, so as not to waste light time for lunch later.

At dawn, I was already checking the paths, sweeping away the snow that had piled on the traps, and ran to work on the construction site. I did not have time to develop in full force, as it was already getting dark. We need to have time to prepare firewood, bring water. Cooking dinner, drying things, and doing all kinds of chores. At 16:00 it's already dark, and like it or not, get into the "aquarium".

Very quickly I realized that I would not be able to do anything at such a pace, and began to work in the dark.

But, to be honest, the night shift never really worked out for me. You feel so uncomfortable when you hammer on the frozen ground by the light of the moon … I just could not get rid of the grave associations. I’m still on vacation … I came to rest. I’m willing to work, but I would like without analogies with the “Kolyma stories” by Varlam Tikhonovich Shalamov.

And so, faint-heartedly digging in the land, I went to Chernukha and a warm stove:) And there were quite enough chores "at home". For example, I never thought that I would have to take such care of work gloves and painstakingly sew them up in the semi-darkness. Where to go? Without mittens, you will simply freeze your hands.

And on the work gloves, I generally had to put on hefty linen patches, which I cut out by pulling out from under poor Chernukha her bedding.

The German hatchet was the first to break the Russian foolishness. Of course, he did not expect that they would chop wood … But I quickly cured him. And I saved everything from the Nizhny Novgorod carpenter for important work.

This is how the evenings passed. And he continued to work with the onset of daylight.

But what beautiful sunrises I met from my pit!:)

Once, while digging in a hole, I heard a noise overhead. Directly above me, with a noise, flapping of wings and “barking”, a flock of about thirty black grouse settled down! I stealthily began to crawl out of the hole in order to reach the gun, but of course they spotted me, and with a crash fell from the tops. Left without prey, but the impressions are still pleasant.

The pit for the dugout was growing slowly but steadily. Chernukha came every morning to see how the work was progressing, and waited all the time, when would I finally build a warm booth for her?

My back vehemently protested against such exploitation after sleeping on hard bunks, but after throwing another huge stone upstairs, it probably resigned itself and, with a sob, fell silent.

I counted the cubic meter of the crushed stone brought out to the surface and figured out - wouldn't it be easier to fold the walls of the logs? By the final dimensions of the pit, 8 cubic meters, I still threw upward … And this by weight will probably be more than 15 tons of soil! I'm just some kind of monster!:)

But nevertheless, the construction of a dugout is less time consuming than a log house. And most importantly, I feel sorry for the forest. I didn’t want to throw such old pines on the log house. In addition, I very quickly became convinced that carrying raw 3, 5-meter logs on me is by no means easier than throwing a piece of land with a shovel. With the very first crown brought and laid, I quickly enlightened.

Sometimes the weather changed, a strong wind blew. I blew it into the chimney, pushing the smoke back, and my "aquarium" turned into a gas chamber. I had to adapt such a piece of dry pine bark to the pipe as a wind reflector. The stove immediately calmed down and rumbled contentedly, devouring the wood.

In the mornings, I still continued to carve out time for hunting and fishing, but less and less often. The stubborn thought to build housing did not give rest and did not leave any free time at all.

The freshly fallen snow brought some inconvenience. From the branches, he constantly poured over the lapels of the raised bogs and melted there. Therefore, despite the high boots, I came every time with wet pants and socks. And working with wet feet is very chilly. The next evening I had to pull out the remnants of the litter from under the dog and sew myself such a flirty skirt.

Not "pleated-corrugation", of course, but now I was returning from the forest with dry legs.

And it was just wonderful in the forest. The weather is sunny.

I put burbots on …

And the dog found another beaver hut. True, the beaver did not come out to her, and I did not bother to hammer the ice in search of a way out to set the trap. Late so late. Let it winter calmly.

Such a clear weather naturally brought with it real frosts. It never happened in November … Always, when the season ended, it was not lower than 12-15 degrees, and then immediately minus 18 was hit at the very beginning of the season … That's because the climate freaks. The dog, protesting that he was left without bedding, began to huddle up to the stove and hypnotize the frozen bottle of beer …

My heart is kind. And so, indulging Chernukha's whims, I launched it on the bunk, on top of a warm sleeping bag. Moreover, it was her birthday, and in honor of such a great holiday, I allowed her to indulge in warmth all day and treated her with all sorts of goodies.

But my holiday beer never thawed … But the wonderful stove did not allow us to freeze. Just look how it got hot in the active combustion mode!

I already began to seriously fear for the fire hazard. Is it a joke? A kind of red-hot cube at the very feet! Out of harm's way, I hung my PVC boots on a nail. However, he still did not save it … The heel nevertheless imperceptibly leaned against the pipe and melted a little, but it doesn’t matter. But the festive buckwheat dinner with cracklings and fried onions after a frosty day was simply incomparable!

Separately, I want to say that most of all on this trip I was afraid of fire. Now, if this happens, then you can certainly be bent! From the frost, we have clothes, an inexhaustible supply of firewood, a stove, and much more. And if everything burns out, then you remain practically "unarmed", as if naked among the frosty night forest … At this point, your remaining account will go literally for hours … It was even scary to think about it …

And yet I did not avoid a small incident. One day, when I was storing firewood, I did not notice how the litter under the stove smoldered. Then the first tongues of flame appeared … Chernushka helped out!

I heard strange sounds through the roar of the chainsaw. Not even barking, but some kind of "blathering" with howling. She sometimes makes such sounds, is angry with her own tail and playing, wants to get it. I was very surprised, what is she? Fearing that she was whipping the wolves, I threw the saw and ran to her voice. And on time. The flame was already licking all the dried moss on the floor, the tent was full of smoke, and the dog running out at the door was loudly indignant that she was not allowed to sleep peacefully.

Then I began to listen more closely to the similar sounds she made, and a couple of times she warned me that fried onions were burning on the stove, while I read an interesting book and forgot about the cooking dinner. Marvelous! She probably doesn't like the smell of burning.

Meanwhile, the frost was playing out in earnest. This has never happened in November. The snow underfoot began to creak desperately, the trees crackled endlessly at night. The forecast was stubbornly transmitted over the receiver - minus 15-17 degrees, and the thermometer crawled disobediently lower and lower. When he crawled to minus 23, I started having problems with the construction site.

I began to run more often to warm up to the stove. In order not to waste time preparing dinner, but nevertheless to eat something hot, I made myself a quick baked potato. Give away the recipe for free!

Frozen potatoes are taken. Of course, we neglect peeling. The potato is chopped with an ax into thick slices of equal thickness.

We shake off any debris from the hot stove with a mitten and generously salt it (the stove) with coarse salt. And on this salt we put our potato slices. In a minute, you need to turn it over and now an exquisite men's dish is whipped up and ready! Aroma and taste like a regular baked potato. Eat with a piece of bacon and rye bread. Bon Appetit!

Finally, it came to reinforcing the pit walls with boards. The boards were to be sawn from local material. I didn't have enough gasoline, and I decided not to open the ridge completely, but to split it with wedges. This is how it looked like:

But the boards were very uneven. Sometimes whole pieces of wood were pulled out of the core, sometimes the fibers did not break and they had to be cut off with an ax. In general, I came to the conclusion that it is not worth tearing the trunk into thin boards. If the log needs to be dissolved into 2-3 blocks, then it can be done with wedges. But this is not economical. Usually with a chainsaw from one ridge it turned out to cut 5-6 boards and, moreover, even boards.

One problem is that there is not enough gasoline and oil for a reliable saw. I already understood this for sure. And I got the idea to finally use a satellite phone.

Leaving, I discussed with my Moscow friend the option that he might be able to come to visit me when I was finished, and we would go fishing with him on the last days of our vacation. But since this is the case, it would be good if he also brought a petrol supplier with him. And so he did. I called Grigory and said that I was missing out on fuel. And that I have already run out of all flammable liquids, I hold on with my last strength and urgently await reinforcements. A faithful comrade ran for a ticket, and I ran to burn the last fuel and prepare the boards.

I did it as follows. He jammed a log in an impromptu "machine" with wedges.

I marked the log as evenly as possible.

And he dismissed it on the boards, trying to adhere to this marking, now boldly consuming precious gasoline.

The matter was slowly moving, and my pit began to take on a more decent look.

The frost was growing stronger. I had less and less time to hunt. I didn’t go on traps every day and even stopped checking the traps.

Digging a hole, I was too lazy and didn’t find anything, probably five digging with a shovel. And now the ground in these places was frozen and did not allow the logs of the crown to be laid evenly. I was angry with myself, but I couldn't do a thing.

The shovel just bounced off the frozen bump, which I had to undo and level. I would have a crowbar, or a pickaxe, and of course I would have coped with it in no time, but somehow I didn’t think to take the crowbar with me from Moscow:) I didn’t even think to spoil the ax by cutting down the frozen ground. It got to the point that a little bit more and the tip of the shovel will break off. There is nothing to do - I had to make fires in these unexplored places …

Having cut down the resinous top of the dumped sushina, I made a fire, and for an hour I heated the ground with fires. Imagine my surprise when, having moved the coals, I was able to break off only one shovel of thawed earth! Moss litter is a good thermal insulator and does not allow heat to pass to the ground until it is completely burned out. It got to the point that I, setting a railway crutch to the ground, pounded on it with a stone and cut off small pieces from the frozen block … like Danila the master. In general, I got tired and as a result spent almost a whole day on what yesterday I could have done in three minutes.

But I nevertheless laid the first logs evenly.

He began to connect them to each other "in the castle".

It turned out something like this:

I wasted the whole day on the manufacture of door frames. For some reason I really wanted to make them from one solid piece of wood,

And I've been tinkering all day, sawing and hollowing out fittings. Of course, everything could have been done much easier. But then my autumn entertainment would be blurry and incomplete. How could you not get confused here?:)

The frost was getting worse. The day came when the temperature dropped to minus 28 degrees! I never thought that I would have to face such a cataclysm …

But my soul was warmed by the imminent arrival of my comrade with mighty support. Soul, spiritual and, accordingly, grocery … so to speak.

These thoughts warmed me.. but the building materials and tools changed their properties from the cold. The frozen wood became hard, and the steel became brittle:(My beloved hatchet died ingloriously, and did not have time to justify my hopes. The thin blade snapped at the first impact on the frozen wood as I was about to pick out the grooves.

The German, with his softer blade, held out. Although he had a hard time.

Out of desperation, I decided to “activate” the day, declared it non-working, and ran to check the traps.

However, walking in PVC boots in such frost was problematic. And not even because my feet were freezing. My legs were not very cold. A thick felt insole and a pair of my grandmother's woolen socks did an excellent job of protecting my mortal body - as long as you move, you can live.

Much worse was the fact that the boots themselves froze and became incredibly tough! Before it happened to me to roam in the swamps in the cold. There is nothing you can do about it. Those who catch a mink often have to sink knee-deep into the water near the shore, step into an unfrozen swamp under the snow, or simply into a non-freezing stream.

I know of nothing more comfortable than bogs in such phlegm. But those were just plain old rubber boots. But I had to use the PVC "bolts" for the first time in the cold, and they did not please me. They simply froze, hardened, taking the shape of a leg, and did not allow full walking and normal bending of the leg.

And when I took off one of these "Spanish boots" to shake out the snow that got inside, then I tried to put it back on for half an hour! He does not let his foot go and that's it. I really thought that I would have to warm it up in my bosom in order to put it back on my leg.

You can imagine how many times I remembered my "prize" super-warm boots, won at the Peterhant competition … But I would simply be sorry to spoil them, constantly dipping them into water and drying them near such a dangerous stove. I would definitely burn such a good and useful thing. So they have all the trials ahead. My hunting trail is finally showing its first results.

The next day, my partner should have arrived, and I went out to meet him, anticipating joyful events. Where are you, Grisha?

And here is the rescue expedition. Hooray! We met 6 km from my shelter!

We got home and immediately, of course, welcome speeches began to be heard and gifts were received.

Celebratory dinner of porridge with cracklings.

And even for dessert with a huge chocolate bar!

The next morning, the work immediately began to argue.

Together we will quickly finish this construction.

And in the evenings they did their own thing. I thawed prey and hunted.

The partner disappeared on the ice, behind the night burbot glitter.

True, it was too early to shine and the idea did not justify itself. But on the other hand, the day's catch of perches was successful, and the guards, wary of live bait, started working. Therefore, we were not deprived of fish either.

And burbot with mayonnaise is generally a divine meal.

After a hearty dinner, I fell over with a book in my hands

And Gregory photographed amazing views from the house. For example, here is such an original northern lights:)

A joke, of course. The idea came up to photograph the snowfall in the light of the Fenix barrel flashlight. Here's what happened.

In the end, we finished the dugout on the penultimate day, just before our departure. It is this design that I decided to check this time.

We covered its roof with polyethylene from the disassembled "aquarium", brought all the remaining things inside and left it to dry until spring. Then it will be possible to hang the door, seal the cracks and lay the dome with moss sod. This is how my 20-day vacation went.