This is Truth.

Volga: the Mother River

The Volga River is the Russian Mother River. It runs through the heartland of the country, around Moscow, and empties into the Black Sea. It connects the frozen northern wastelands of Lake Lagoda, the fertilish forests of Tver and Vladimir, the Steppe and Stalingrad (now Volgagrad) to the Black Sea, Constantinople, and Europe.

We camped out on the banks of the Volga for Fyodor's barbeque. We drove to the edge of town in Misha’s friend Evgenni’s Czech Skoda sedan, a fine little car I would say. After entering into the deeper woods, the road narrows to barely two lanes as we dodge babushkas on bicycles riding back to their ancient villages in the hinterlands. The river and the road bend north, and we turn off the road into an old abandoned horse pasture outside of a similarly abandoned Soviet stable. Winding through the field on a well-worn path, we eventually arrived at the riverside in a row of trees. To the west, along the mighty Volga, Dubna was not the least imposing – the city lights are dim and the buildings are few, even though they hold thousands.



Barges named “Lenin” passed passenger ferries named “Lenin” as the evening set in. Its bad luck to rename a ship after it first sails. I have a feeling that had nothing to do with it, though. When ships would pass, the river would recede 20 feet, exposing riverbed. In the lowest seasons, the passing ships will draw the river out far enough to beach many fish for just a moment. Then a rush of water pushes out from the wake, washing gallons of green chemicals up over the much and sludge of the shoreline. It was quiet, and clear enough to see a few stars through the settled fog that blankets every night in the Mot


I was in the Russian heaven. Or the closest place they get to it.




Time to light a fire in a bucket and start drinking moonshine.

posted by Майлз Г. Смит @ 9:19 PM