Two days on a motorcycle in the Chernobyl zone
An interesting adventure with a post-apocalyptic atmosphere in the style of "Stalker" Recommended Reading.
The other day I decided to take a trip to the Chernobyl zone. Since I'm used to traveling on a motorcycle, legal bus tours do not attract me.
Other ways to Zone closed, but, as used to say, Socrates, "a wise man does not need a law, he has a reason." Armed with this saying and saying nothing to anyone (in order not to sow doubt in my wisdom), I collected snyaryazhenie and moved to the north.
The farther, the more savage become region. Increasingly stuck ruins of withered grass. At last on the road refueling, I stopped to pour a full tank, because that civilization came to an end on. Gloomy inhabitants nameless dingy gas station rednekov reminiscent of "Easy Rider."
By mid-afternoon I approached the border areas. Consulting the map, I turned to the forest and zapetlyal secret paths. Primer brought into the field, rested on the barbed wire, and bifurcated, bypassing the area around.
Feeling the dense rows of thorns, I walked along the border. Sometimes there are gaps for pedestrians, but there was no place to squeeze a motorcycle. Vigilantly watching for patrols, I was riding kilometer after kilometer.
Finally I got a good tunnel, covered with sloppy stranded wire. Motorcycle hid in the bushes, I began to unravel the loops. Distant rumble caught my attention.
Far away in the dust plume raised the car and moved towards me. Crouching, I ran to the motorcycle. Noise getting louder, closer and closer, and suddenly, quite close already squeaked brakes and everything was quiet. The blood pounded in his ears.
The door slammed. "Going to give up or to enjoy the last seconds of freedom?" - I asked a question. Steps stranger rustled the sand.
The door slammed again. Buzzed starter, the engine roared, and the sound began to move away. The wide gap between the trees drove the old "Field". If a man driving turned his head, he would have seen me crouching behind a motorcycle. When the noise died down car, I breathed. My hour has not yet come. I undid the remaining coils of wire, summed up the motorcycle to the perimeter, he ducked under the barbed wire and jumped out on the other side.
Inside Zone and the sky turned bluer and the grass is juicy - as in "Stalker" Tarkovsky. A dozen meters behind the fence the forest began. According to the map, in this place inland areas had to leave the road. And indeed - the trees could be seen mossy track. I tape strapped to the handlebars radiometer and plunged into the thicket.
The forest appeared quite unfriendly. Roads should be resolved quickly and I found myself in the dense jungle, littered with fallen trees. I crawled to the logs on a log in first gear, rode large fallen trunks, falling a couple of times.
Referring to the map, I was bursting right through the thicket to the nearest village. My plan was simple: there must have been preserved remains of roads, should I take them to the next village, and so on.
Indeed, I first jumped on a sandy clearing, then on the present forest road and rattled merrily forward. More on the way we met the fallen trees, but I jumped and rode straight off. Along the road was a row of rotten poles power lines, the radiation background was lower than in Kiev.
Forest parted, and I was in the village. Crooked thicket of rose huts and fences thinning. Inside the house reigned ruin - even the wooden floors were torn and broken. It was already evening, it was time to look for a place to sleep. Overnight in dreary haunted house did not appeal, so I went on.
Driving along the track, I saw in front of a huge boar. The boar's snout lifted from the ground and stared fiercely and bewildered. "Now he has to get scared and run away" - I thought. Boar in no hurry. . "Stop Maybe I should be frightened and run away?" - I doubt. The boar turned and skipped disappeared in the thicket. Relieved.
I also went deep into the forest, pulled the hammock, have a bite and began packing. Through the mesh upper hammock shone an incredible amount of stars - as I have seen only in childhood, and the planetarium. Often glittering meteors ... Only bad thoughts distracted by this beautiful picture: I've heard, if the mass is found in the zone of wolves. Imagination painted a picture: I sniff peacefully in a hammock and are brought together around a silent ring gray shadows, and heard only the dripping saliva from the stinking mouths ... I fell asleep with these thoughts.
Fire ponds are often found in the zone. Background next to them 2 times higher than the allowable rate - radiometer indicates 0, 6 microsievert hour. 10 meters away - and the background is normal.
Early in the morning I went further into the Zone. One after another, I passed several abandoned villages. The silence, the deaf thickets, open doors, piles of logs and broken bricks. It was like in the movies about the world after a nuclear war, but without contrived mutants and cannibals - just nature, erasing traces of man.
The nature made itself felt very directly - increasingly had to go around the huge pile of moose droppings. On the outskirts of one of the villages I was scared and very elk - a large carcass Rushed through the thickets.
The farther away from the border, the more intact were at home, escaped the looters hands. There is a difference between abandoned houses, which, taken all necessary simply ceased to live, and houses hastily abandoned, both here in the Zone. The frames shine entire glass in houses worth furniture, hang things on hooks. And the most terrible - photos. On the floor, on the walls, in the framework, in albums - everywhere scattered pictures. Wade chills when I think of people who fled in such a hurry, that left behind even that.
I moved on - in the ten-kilometer zone.
It is said in the Zone people live. Never seen one, although it may be. But not in the ten-kilometer zone - the zone of unconditional resettlement. Once it has been fenced and guarded. Now there were only fallen columns, rusty barbed wire on the ground and empty concrete PPC houses.
At the entrance to a ten-kilometer border zone, I saw towering above the forest huge lattice abandoned radar station "Chernobyl 2". I skirted the forest field, and feel the open space is very uncomfortable - as if someone is watching very closely, and writes in a notebook. So I was relieved turned into the thicket of the nearest clearing. The path went away from the radar, but my gas tank pretty felt better, so I reluctantly gave up the search circuitous paths to the "Chernobyl 2", and went to where the road led.
Prosek put on the fresh asphalt. It could be seen near the concrete fence with neatly wound on the top of the barbed wire, and behind it - a large area with a complex of buildings. I cautiously approached.
On the map in this place there is the "object" Vector "- the enterprise for radioactive waste Lanterns, exclusion zone, the forest is cut down to a few tens of meters around the fence -. I did not want to be a hero, so quietly turned and disappeared among the trees.
Avoiding the paved road, I moved on. A wide, covered with loose sand corridor led between dense spruce walls, until the clearing opened not seem yellow armored personnel carrier - I arrived at the burial of contaminated equipment.
I dismounted and walked between the rusty Hulk. From time to time the ominous creaking forced to shudder - the wind fluctuated bent steel sheets, and open doors to the calloused hinges.
The bulk of the equipment was carefully fenced with barbed wire in the concrete area, but around the fence was in chaos. Crumpled trucks, fire trucks, armored vehicles littered indentation into each other as the last decisive battle casualties.
The drivers tried to come off as if in full before you throw technique. Demolished pillars, armored vehicles crushed the belly buses climbed the pile of scrap metal trucks - it smacked distant echo unhealthy daring fun of people who are all already in the drum.
Radiometer clicked too often - background crosses over 1 microsieverts. Stay long here did not want to, so I'm at a pace crawled under barbed wire and ran deep in the streets between the straddling technique. Otsnimav strange mechanisms, I returned to the motorcycle. Something was wrong, felt a vague anxiety. The castle stuck key - turns out I left the ignition on and the battery lamp devoured without a trace. starter button is clicked helplessly.
Ominously creaking in the wind skewed the door of the neighboring truck.
Space alien ships rusting in the general pile.
Chernobyl mutants tried to keep in armored chambers wrapped in barbed wire. Everything was useless ...
The instrument panel is not lit, the starter does not work. I wiped his cold sweat. Fortunately, I have a Kick. Unfortunately, the motorcycle zavedosh hell with it. Until that day, I was able to quick Start with a kick only once, and then - the bike was very hot, just muffled.
I put forward Kick arm, and proceeded. The technology is to perch on the bike and kick to kick with all the dope, the whole mass of the body. Half an hour later, when I became tired and discouraged, the engine suddenly roared. Relieved.
I moved to the border areas away from where I entered into it. The path lay through the overgrown road, barely visible trail under power lines, abandoned villages and country towns. Debris of fallen trees had to go around right through the forest.
In fact, the Zone has a network of relatively well-maintained roads - they connect Chernobyl and Pripyat with the border checkpoint. Traffic on these roads can not be called lively, but a chance to get there, so I carefully avoided them.
Many hours of crawling on impassable jungle convinced of the greatness of nature. If humanity disappears suddenly, after 20 years it will be possible to find traces, not without difficulty.
According to the map, I walked up to the check point located in an abandoned village within the zone. I traveled outskirts of the village streets, jumped out on the road and turned around. Far behind I could see the red and white barrier. Grinning happily, I gave the gas and rushed forward - to the border was only a few kilometers. Near the exit path blocked by a barricade of iron scrap. Leave was possible, should only scatter rubble rusty wire. I set to work, quietly and steadily. I was absolutely sure that all dangers behind, and nothing threatens me.
It was not there.
I picked up a bunch of rusty wire, which blocks the exit from the Zone, and saw a man in camouflage. Relaxing, I forgot that the border with Belarus is organized by the Zone perimeter, so that within the zone guarded by the police, and the outside - the army.
I looked at the gun on the belt of border guards and imagined picture: I drive a motorcycle, with me on the bike the border guard and the bullets hiss. Presenting it, I decided to give up and started a true story: "I was driving, riding, enjoying nature ... I do not know how I got here, a chance event." Border guard I convinced - he called the cops with the most sincere regret.
It was getting dark. From the depth zones prizhuzhzhal scooter policeman. The young lieutenant immediately began to build a tough guy. Poorat me, poorat on border guards searched my things.
When a SLR with three lenses lieutenant issued a cheer. "You're a journalist!" I honestly do not, but not convinced. Lieutenant threatened me with severe penalties and promised to call the SBU and shook his head. "It is wrong you had chosen for the purpose of the article, the second would be better if you do not be a journalist!" - he lamented he was about my destiny.
Gift from the zone of my things is not found, press card, too, so 3 years for looting and reportorstvo does not threaten me - only 400 hryvnia administrative fine.
The lieutenant sat behind me passenger, and we went to the check point, past which I so famously slipped. They began to make an administrative report, a conversation. "On patrol, it happens, wolves see on 40 goals!" - scared me lieutenant. When he began to remember "But in the winter took a group of stalkers in camouflage ...", I finally relaxed. For them, it's a game - "stalkers" escape, the police caught, and all fun. I was handed a paper about my abuse, have shown a direct way, and I went into the night. At the next checkpoint I shook paper, and explained that I had already caught and branded. At 4 am I was in Kiev.