On the Vetluga River, the village of Yurkino

Report on fishing on the Vetluga River, the village of Yurkino. Feeder and snacks. The bream is one and a half, somata and white-eyed sopa. Something on Vetluga has changed ...

For a long time we were going to Vetluga. They heard from one familiar fisherman, then from another, they say, a large bream is caught on Vetluga, up to two kilos or more . But to those places the distance is not close. Therefore, if you already go, then immediately for two or three days. And these days can not always be carved out with work and other duties. So the trip to distant lands was postponed, and fishing was more suburban.

We missed the graceful time of the summer bream course. Usually, as far as I remember, in the midst of summer a large bream was caught on Vetluga in the month of July. And then only in August we got out. But okay, I think we’ll catch something. Moreover, according to a friend, a friend of his all the time catches a bream in those places. Half a kilo scavenger lets go. So ... And we would be just useful for them to take our souls away, to wither, to smoke fish. Salers of this size are best salted and smoked (how to soak bream).

Gathered and left with his son Dimka on his Logan. True, this did not work out in the morning. Only after lunch did I get out. But they walked mainly under one hundred and twenty, somewhere faster. Although you will not especially be dispersed on the narrow Kozmodemyansky tract. Although it is a federal road, it winds around and clearly does not match the width. The fate of the reckless driver and passengers of the minibus, dispersed at night along a narrow road and crashed into a timber truck, is indicated by wreaths on the side of the road. Last year, a tragedy occurred.

In Yurkino it was four o'clock. Pumped up the boat, suspended the engine. Loaded things. And where does this amount of fishing stock come from? It seems to be nothing superfluous. Of course, it was possible to get settled on our shore. But Dimka went here with his wife to rest, and he really liked the sand spit on the opposite bank, where, according to him, a hole immediately blackened in shallow water. And there were no people on this shore. Nevertheless, we are going to catch near the village. Along our shore, both city fishermen and feeders sit, and local residents and fishermen go.

So, we are there. The braid, of course, is beautiful and the depth seems to blacken. But after the casting, it became clear that although it was not shallow here, it was impossible to finish the feeder before the edge . She, this edge, apparently, is closer to the steep opposite shore. No matter how I tried to finish up to her, but the feeder braid went into the water with a gentle line. If the place is suitable for recreation, then it is not very suitable for fishing. But let’s take a look ... There was no longer time to find a new place. Moreover, nearby was an old woman, overgrown with water lilies. Here's where to put the flyer-lanterns (how to put the flyer-lanterns). Would be with a pike.

But catching bait was difficult on the spit. I came across only a sop. There was no roach. A white-eyed sopa is a weak fish on the hook of a zergel. It won’t last long. It was necessary to immediately leave for the old woman and catch roach or crucian carp from the boat there. I realized this later. In the meantime, we hoped for the bite of the scammer. But only a sopa pecked, and the only scavenger caught a pound only in the dark.

At night they threw a few snacks with planted meat of pearl barley-shell. On the catfish. But the bell did not tinkle.

In the morning, a small-sized sopa was still pecking, and I suggested moving to the opposite bank, yellowing with a sandy-clay high cliff. There clearly was a pit. No sooner said than done. They started the engine and went to the other side. Yes, after casting the feeder, it became clear: under the shore at least six meters deep. But again there was a problem to reach the edge, but on the other hand. Only my feeder 3.9 meters long reached the pit and spit border. No wonder I took it. Short homemade feeders, which worked perfectly on a small river, didn’t reach ten meters to the edge. The feeders fell into the pit.

Here, too, a sopa pecked, only a larger one. By evening, the feeder, apparently, took a somnoe, judging by the jerks. But came down. And at dusk he took another one. I took that. At night, they had to remove the feeders altogether, because they constantly took somates from the palm of their hand. They had to be removed from the hooks and thrown into the water. Larger catfish did not come across.

In the morning I took a bream-one and a half leash onto my company feeder, several scammers caught, but in general I did not take the bream. According to a local fisherman who came up to Kazanka, the bream has not been here, as it was before, for two years now. And even the famous Sukhodol, where we initially wanted to go, was no better than this place where we were now. Something has apparently changed in Vetlug. We caught a bucket of fish, given the fish cooked in the ear, but sopa prevailed.