These meadow places are located in the villages of New Komino and Yakimovo. Komino is located on a high hill, away from the river, and Yakimovo stretches from the river towards the highway. Despite the relative proximity of the city (about 12 km), these places along the riverbed of the Malaya Kokshagi are quite deserted. Only in the immediate vicinity of the bridge are idle citizens and kebab lovers resting. And further it is possible to reach only by tractor. That’s why there aren’t so many fishermen on sections of the river remote from the bridge, but you can’t see any vacationers at all. Usually, fishermen on boat-boats go down from Comino and city fishermen on bicycles and light motorcycles get to these places. The soil here is peaty and therefore the roads are quite badly broken. New roads form all the time during haying, but they do not solve the transport problem, since the meadows are penetrated by the arteries of the drainage ditches and all roads go to the bridges through them. That is why the fishing spots near Comino are preserved in relative untouchedness.
There are also enemies of all living things - electric pointers, but here they are watched by local residents.
It happens that their children serve as sort of scouts. They go out to new visitors to the river and see if they are shocking. If they beat, then the boys run from all legs to the village. And there, too, the adults pull themselves up. The mugs will be filled with mugs, they will be shocked, leading the wires to the causal place, they will be thrown into the water, all equipment and vehicles will be broken. In a word, it doesn’t seem enough. That's why the fish was preserved in the river. Moreover, I have often heard a question and a suggestion from the locals, when fishermen from Comino came down to us in boats and came to hay, they say, put nets, guys, do not be scared, we have been wetting nets all our lives and the fish has not been translated. Just do not electric shock. To which we told them that we like more fishing rods, but they put up the girders, flyers. Here they are no worse than large fish in the nets. And we catch white large fish here on the feeder.
Ide, chub, bream, tench come across, not to mention a roach of grams on three hundred and a hodgepodge. Bream sometimes weighing up to two kilos on the hooks of the feeder sit down. The locals incredulously glance at our feeder rods and slingshot lances, set along the coastal strip, and smile. They had no time to indulge in such pampering: either haymaking, or even some everyday rural work. They will put the nets, in the morning they will come on boats, urinate and go home. But on the fire and the ear is. More is not necessary.
On the topic of electric pointers, we have only one answer: we never considered those scumbags who are engaged in this craft in our life to be people. These scum live one day and after themselves, even their children will not leave anything. On Bolshoy Kokshag, electric kilometers were knocked out of the river with miles long sections to a dreary emptiness. Here, apparently, due to the inaccessibility of places there is no such acute problem. In addition, local residents are not indifferent observers. Cheering for their native places. And the places here are really notable. Morning dawns melt in the still water of the river. It will hit the heavy tail in the reeds, poke on the sides of the melting pot, the sedge will swing. And again silence. The bees buzz in the spirit of meadow grasses, the cows moo and the clicks of the shepherd’s whine are heard. A rural idyll smelling of flowers, honey and cow cakes, and even fish. For some reason, this smell is held together with the fresh and moist breath of the river, apparently due to the abundance of bleak and top on the warm surface of the river.
At times along the coastal grass, turmoil begins
The pole of the girly sways, slaps the tip of the water with a whip, and the fishing line from the plastic horn begins to blossom. It takes a pike. For almost no fishing line left on the flyer, it stretches and goes into the grass. And the flyer after it is placed in a horizontal position, like a hound dog for a run. He nods and sways from the jerks of a predator, the pole also sways, and in water lilies he suddenly jumps out a pike in the candle, alley with gills, and strives to get off the hook. It’s time to go to the vent! .. We lie on the oars and pull out two pounds of pike from the grass. Suitable for a small river. Good prey, clean.
Towards evening, you look, the top of the feeder nods, the bell will blur. This begins the evening bite. He takes a weighty roach, roaches, scammers, sometimes bream come across.
How to get ">
They usually get here from Yoshkar-Ola via the Sernursky tract, reaching the bridge by a bypass road. And there it all depends on the traffic.