In paramonovskom ravine

And here we are in Paramonovskom ravine. It struck us that went many places in the Moscow region, its beauty, its endless distances of; here grandiose glacier plow plowed a huge hollow, leaving about a souvenir placer granitic moraines. His greatness, too, obliges. No, not the number of kilometers traveled will be proud of the trip participants, not for a romantic overnight stay in tents, we came into this "wilderness", and ashes of fires, we note our way! We have begun a campaign of "trefoil", a place where three rivers merge - Iksha, Volgusha and Yakhroma. Here is the first object - cognitive, and we can not just watch the rare geographical phenomenon, standing there a minute or two. The Plan does not provide for a narrow problem a detailed study of the rivers with the plotting, but to determine their speed in different sections, to take water samples for further analysis at the school - is not geography in practice or not to have the practice of the future hydrology and geology? The fastest of the three rivers, the most turbulent and alluring - Volgusha. Her overgrown shore and went against the flow tourists. Soon loop trails broke off: apparently rotted support bridges, and a raging torrent after a long rain scattered the logs, stuck among the trees near the water, washed clean handrails. "Yes, here it is not just repairing smell - thought each. - Well, it's more fun! "Work enough - and have to drive into the bottom of Coke, and shore support to align. It is necessary and part of the split logs for handrails: no trees, no branches previously agreed not to hack, even for tents we took from Moscow to bamboo sticks and steel crutches. Bring a simple crossing of the rivulet was not so easy. But when a lot of people - it is argued, natural nous complements the power and ability, and the excess energy, which has found a useful outlet, makes us forget how time flies. The first update of its own design and construction of the crossing. Going through the hills, stretches beyond tape tourists ... Big halt. Remove the layers of sod, dug pit for sushnyaka; over the flame, on flat stones, set the bucket. At the same meadow at the edge of the forest well and arrange their own "green stadium". Why is commonly believed that sports are fit only the landscaped area? And do not wonder whether boys and girls to run his one hundred and sixty feet on a rough, grassy path? Here are the first runs, "mastering" the distance, marked crimson tie pylon. Good runs. Leap through the bush, across the gutter ... But this is not enough, we must still climb on the smooth trunk of a birch tree, six feet - before the first female, and from there to throw a grenade out on the stump ... Prepare them for work, cooking and on the defensive! Council adopts an integrated unit off. The rate for all one - forty seconds - and not everyone fits in her first attempt ... Nemudryaschy kosterok prepared us a nice dinner. Carefully dimmed the fire, ashes are placed in tins and lids are omitted from the turf. Sluts we have not. Would that be called a tourist, who, scattered over a parking place paper and other trash, is fouling on? Everybody knows that, leave it here though forfeit of candy, in a campaign he is no longer walk. And again, winding forest paths, sounds laughter, jokes, on the faces of children Genuine happiness in her eyes - mischievous twinkle. Here and there stop, pick up something, something put in the pockets of backpacks. And when we leave out of the woods, and representatives of staff check: everyone should have at least a hundred acorns. In a huge hollow ravine - the second ravine is a drill ground seething Volgusha. Its steep banks, bad for them keeps the soil ... What is not the place for one more imagined to do?! Distance to neighbor - five steps. Stabbed into the ground - and carefully lowered into the hole mature acorn. Next - the second, third, then lower, even lower - in a staggered arrangement, the entire area of ??his uchastochka. Guys lovingly watered each well of the flask. Oak - not a willow, it does not do the will of the wind his seed, he needs help to spread. If even a tenth of our acorns will provide seedlings, - three hundred oaks will strengthen the gully. Tomorrow we will arrive in the ancient village Obolyanovo-Nikolsky, in which he lived and worked as a peasant writer Simon P. Podyachev. Nightmare emanates from the pages of the book. I can not believe that all this could be. But it was! And it may be, in this very place where now on the gentle slopes of the hills tractors and combines complete cleaning of late crops. And right now could not be clearer guys feel and understand: "What a contrast! Here it is - reality of Communism. " And everybody wants to be involved in the case. But is not natural to their desire? Is knowing machines in schools should be only a theory? Give us, however small, the lesson of practice! And we give it. Everyone wants to climb on the stationary, to pass the sun cast on fresh paint harvester. Each waiting impatiently for their turn experienced tractor driver will little story "steel horse" ... The sun sets. Ends the working day for workers of state farms. And now we invite you to our humble concert! One after another, fit the audience and placed on the grass under the open sky. A barely audible noise Volgusha. A brief report on the mineral deeds committed by the detachment. Threw a brilliant trumpet trumpeter, strained lips silver mouthpiece. Orange haze of autumn kup melt on the horizon boundless gave Paramonovskogo ravine. And it seems to us: no glacier plowed this ravine, and a grand share stories lifted nov Earth and rolled into the chest of the hills, spilling sparks quartz moraines.