Schlina-2006
Here's some photos of the last canoeing and my comments. River Schlina, 300 km North-North-West of Moscow. I haven't yet got the others' photos, here's only mine. So, as you can guess, there is no me here, except for a wet stripped sock.
Click on any photo to enlarge.
This is the anatomy of canoe. It has a sceleton from aluminium tubing and a skin.
Sitting in the nose part of canoe is an engine (and sometimes a navigator -- he has to watch the underwater stones); sitting in the stern part is a captain; and remaining one (if any) is a passenger.
The river in its first half was ankle-deep, and there were the stones of every possible shapes and sizes.
Sometimes we changed the boats and the places, just for fun. The orange dinosaur on the first pic is the most usual view from my ruler place; but I also went in another company. This nice blooming effect on the last pic is because during one of the skin-resque operations I sat into the water, right with the camera hanging on my, ah, paunch. This thing eventually dried out, but the optics gave post-effects for another couple of days.
Imagine now that you’re driving at, say, Monako Formula-1 racing sitting on the rear seat, and having your navigator sitting on the front seat. His shoulders (and life jacket) obscure exactly all the front view, and he has a bunch of assets of which the less harmful is that he confuses left and right when he cries you about the turns, I mean, underwater stones. Not always, only in the half of cases or so... randomly. Plus, he is a bit blind and another bit deaf. Besides, his netto mass is about the same as the brutto of all remaining canoe, plus yourself and the passenger. So, when you get out of it into water, to drag the boat over the shallow or to pull it between the stones, the total weight loss is almost negligible. Got the pleasure?
Because of that plenty of stones, half of the canoes was holed in the very first day. Since the luck loves the fools Due to my skilled captaining, we lasted much longer (a day and a half); but when we still got holed, it was a HOLE. Even after I’d sewed and patched the 4 biggest gashes, the skin of our canoe reminded a colander. For the rest 5 days, we could swim inside the boat. We were not alone, though.
What I most like about hiking, it shows everyone the way (s)he really is. For example, the teachers are actually the patent pirates. (Left to right: Sasha, history; Marina, geography; Lyonya, programming or something.)
...and the quiet, intelligent, delicate, bookish kids become the squadron of unpiloted missiles.
That’s what we’re doing on the firm land. Hiking is fun, but do not forget that this school is very, very serious. Everyone has to do their math homework or to read something awful kind of Lev Tolstoy.
By the way, that Cinderella girl from one of the pics above had done me in armwrestling. It turned out unexpectedly sensible for both my ego and my shoulder, once broken and then dislocated.
Well, for a dessert here’s a bit of romantics; and what would we do without it?
Click on any photo to enlarge.
This is the anatomy of canoe. It has a sceleton from aluminium tubing and a skin.
Sitting in the nose part of canoe is an engine (and sometimes a navigator -- he has to watch the underwater stones); sitting in the stern part is a captain; and remaining one (if any) is a passenger.
The river in its first half was ankle-deep, and there were the stones of every possible shapes and sizes.
Sometimes we changed the boats and the places, just for fun. The orange dinosaur on the first pic is the most usual view from my ruler place; but I also went in another company. This nice blooming effect on the last pic is because during one of the skin-resque operations I sat into the water, right with the camera hanging on my, ah, paunch. This thing eventually dried out, but the optics gave post-effects for another couple of days.
Imagine now that you’re driving at, say, Monako Formula-1 racing sitting on the rear seat, and having your navigator sitting on the front seat. His shoulders (and life jacket) obscure exactly all the front view, and he has a bunch of assets of which the less harmful is that he confuses left and right when he cries you about the turns, I mean, underwater stones. Not always, only in the half of cases or so... randomly. Plus, he is a bit blind and another bit deaf. Besides, his netto mass is about the same as the brutto of all remaining canoe, plus yourself and the passenger. So, when you get out of it into water, to drag the boat over the shallow or to pull it between the stones, the total weight loss is almost negligible. Got the pleasure?
Because of that plenty of stones, half of the canoes was holed in the very first day. Since the luck loves the fools Due to my skilled captaining, we lasted much longer (a day and a half); but when we still got holed, it was a HOLE. Even after I’d sewed and patched the 4 biggest gashes, the skin of our canoe reminded a colander. For the rest 5 days, we could swim inside the boat. We were not alone, though.
What I most like about hiking, it shows everyone the way (s)he really is. For example, the teachers are actually the patent pirates. (Left to right: Sasha, history; Marina, geography; Lyonya, programming or something.)
...and the quiet, intelligent, delicate, bookish kids become the squadron of unpiloted missiles.
That’s what we’re doing on the firm land. Hiking is fun, but do not forget that this school is very, very serious. Everyone has to do their math homework or to read something awful kind of Lev Tolstoy.
By the way, that Cinderella girl from one of the pics above had done me in armwrestling. It turned out unexpectedly sensible for both my ego and my shoulder, once broken and then dislocated.
Well, for a dessert here’s a bit of romantics; and what would we do without it?