Salyan, same as ever

Ah, our native nature is something else.rnJumping ahead, I'll say it: the fish have been poisoned all over Salyan.rnWe drove past 5-7 canals and there were no fish anywhere. I didn't even change. Plastic sheet on the seat and rubber boots. That's how I rode around…rnWe put our heads together about what's far from the villages and downstream of all the canals. Oh. Eureka, there's one little canal forgotten by God and by fishermen (no idea why). The guys dragged their feet for a long time. A really long time, like, let's go home, there's no fish in this sea, and all that kind of stuff. But I talked them into it.rnWe got there, a canal like any other, reeds, grass. A couple of kids running around with mop handles with a clothesline tied to them, and at the end of this wildly high-end tackle a treble hook. On the treble a fry 4-5 cm long. No sinkers, no floats. The technique is interesting, that's why I'm telling you about it. With loud cracking and noise they bash their way through the reeds, lowering the rig into the water under the reeds. 3-10 seconds of waiting and if nothing bites, move to a new spot and start all over again. Strangely enough, that way they pulled out 2 little pike of a kilo to a kilo and a half. (maybe there were more, but while we were there it was 2)rnWe caught one of the kids and asked him. Are there fish here? He says there are no fish, there's catfish, yesterday they got a 38 kg one in a net, and pike.rnFine, we'll fish. We walked, we cast.… After 20 minutes I got the first one, about a kilo, maybe a bit more. And that was it.. We walked and walked, she's not in the reeds, not in open water, not in the grass…rnWell, I figure, last hope is the high-end wobbler (bought from Sazan). Put it on and straight away a strike, a 0.5 kg little pike. That's it, life goes on…rnSo we're catching little pike, and meanwhile it's getting close to sunset. Around 5 o'clock, with every cast, clouds of fry scattered from the wobbler, jumping out of the water. Awesome sight. A silver crown, and it falls back into the water like silver rain. That went on for about 20 minutes. Then all hell broke loose… I'd never seen anything like it. 3-5 kilo monsters started jumping out of the water. And not one or two – the whole canal was boiling with pike. The noise was so loud it drowned out talking, like in a heavy downpour.rnWe tore up and down the canal like crazy, not knowing whether to fish or just enjoy the show. I haven't felt an adrenaline rush like that in a long time.rnAs soon as it got dark it was all over. And I hear a big flock of geese nearby. Passing 15-20 meters above us. No moon, you can't see them, but you can hear them really well. We went quiet and listened. The geese landed on the next field and were pretty noisy. Somewhere nearby something was eating a hare. That cry, like a baby's, is really hard to mistake for anything else. We packed up and got in the car. Driving. Then a hare jumps out from under the wheels and doesn't run off, it's like it's playing with us. I stop, it stops. I move off, it slowly shifts its fat butt along. Well, I think, let it run. I stopped, turned off the lights. 2-3 minutes passed. I think, the bunny's gone, time to head home. I turn the lights on, it's sitting in the middle of the road, carefully looking the car over. Long story short, the bunny escorted us all the way to the asphalt and then calmly, paying no attention to the headlights, hopped off into a bush. That's fine, we'll meet in hunting season, we'll see how you jump around teasing us then.rnWe had the best time ever, the guys practically stopped talking about fish. We were discussing this wild little piece of our land that people haven't spoiled yet.rnNo photos. Because instead of a camera I bought myself more toys. A speargun, socks, a mask and a whole bunch of stuff.rn