Four small burbot and a giant ruff. Report on burbot fishing on the Malaya Oshla river.
This fall evening, I am going to get a small rivulet called Malaya Oshloy for a burbot. Despite its size, this river has deep holes, where long algae curl on the edge of the stream under the pressure of the current, like the hair of a mermaid. And in the holes themselves, blacker than black, a mysterious depth is seen in the clear autumn water. It is clear that the depth in these glasses is not ten meters, but there are four to five meters in some pits. At one time, before the appearance of electric rods - the enemies of all living things - on Oshla they caught burbots weighing more than two kilograms, that for such a small river the fish is already quite serious, almost trophy. My father brought such burbot in spring and autumn, and then he began to take me as well. Then I didn’t even get my feet to the steps of the old, but strong Izh-49 motorcycle. Many probably know and remember this car, a sort of Soviet-made Harley-davidson. At first, my father had to carry me to the gas tank of this motorcycle, and then, when I was a little older, I began to put my feet on the covers of the rear shock absorbers. In those years, in our small town there were few cars either. Therefore, the "traffic cops" were calm about our crew, only advised us to be careful.
We made a canopy on the river and made a bonfire nearby. That's all the shelter. But this is not for sleep. All the same, I did not have to sleep all night. Shelter was made only from rain and wind, in order to eat calmly and take a little nap before the bell rings. Usually, the most beautiful and working gear with thinner fishing line was placed next to the shelter. And on the fishing line hung loud brass bells, which his father grind at the factory. You can’t compare the ringing and sound strength with the current Chinese bells. But still distant souvenirs were without bells. Do not hear from such a distance. And I had to go far enough to put gear in the pits. On little Oshla such pits were not everywhere.
And so they caught it. Those showers that stood next to the canopy gave us the music of an autumn night, sometimes ringing bells. A distant gear from time to time checked, going around them along the shore with a flashlight. Usually in the morning, a sufficient number of burbots was collected on a good ear and fry.
And today I decide to check the river of my childhood
The weather is surprisingly sunny and quiet. Moreover, this is clearly “Indian summer”, which has dragged on for a long time, delighting with steady warmth. And only in the morning the grass was gray and fragile from the autumn frost. But already with sunrise the frost melted, and during the day it was warm, almost like at the end of summer. True, such a positive quality of the weather created warmth for the burbot that was not very popular with this cold Nordic fish. He would have steady cold ... Hope only on fresh nights and ice dawns with hoarfrost. Maybe the water does not have time to warm up after such morning performances in a day?
I advise you to read: How to find out what the weather will be like? - The article has several ways to determine what the weather will be the next day (or throughout the day).
And here are the familiar meadow places. Well hello small river, Little Oshla! Its banks are already in the rust of dry grass. Shrubs and light forests are reflected in gold and scarlet in the blue clear water of the river. The water smells of piercing autumn freshness. Good ... Easy to breathe, and no annoying mosquitoes.
Today I decide to spend the night by the river according to old memory. Therefore, having chopped dry willow, I make a canopy and pull polyethylene on it, closing the sides of the shelter. Here, in the willow tree, I find dry trees. These are excellent firewood, however, they shoot incredibly. If you are at the bonfire in cotton clothes of past years, there is a danger of burning quilted jackets, which you can’t put out in any way. Usually, sparks begin to smolder vata, and this for a long time, even climb into the river.
Everything, the fire is burning, there is shelter. It's time to throw gear. I throw five heels of hooks into the pit around the bend of the river. And I expose three souvenirs aside, on a sand spit, opposite which there is a steep opposite shore. There is also a pit.
The first bells rang at about nine in the evening. There is! The bribe! .. It's too small, but for a start it will go. Soon another bell rang. This is already on the spit. The river of my childhood did not fail. Not everywhere now remains burbot, even on larger rivers. Probably, it waned on the conscience of electricians.
Morning showed that in the ear there is fish, however, not large. Four small burbot came across and hooked a giant ruff.
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To Donka in Astrakhan and not only
It's time to check whether it takes burbot or not