До: Ладога 2008
The convoys stop on the streets around the main start. As per the locals' standards, these streets are pretty narrow. For me, they seem larger than our main boulevards. There is no traffic around us, as the police is blocking the way for everybody who is not part of the show. Most of the machines are simple jeeps, pickup trucks and RV's, but every once in a while really nice machines can be seen:
For some weird reason, the Isakiev church doesn't look anything like a church to me. Huge, depressing building.
I decide not to take a single picture of it. Same for Peterburg by night. I'm sure there's a gazillion of nice pictures of these places anyway. To make something different, one would need to be a real artist, or have a tilt lens, or probably both. Beauty is confusing. And I'm not an artist.
Little by little the large square fills with offroad vehicles, which will be in the eternal swampy forest by tonight. I don't believe such a quantity of prepared vehicles can be gathered together at any other place in the world.
A Dutch Daihatsu Rocky shyly stops next to ours. It's all shiny and nice. All perfect. Tough luck - it doesn't have no military UAZ axles with 36" Simex'es on them. And its crew still believes in the virtues of Civilisation. Monumental error maybe ?
People gather around, take pictures, smile compassionately. Nice little crowd. Some of them check how many and how strong tow hooks the thing has, already wondering how it will be towed after it hopelessly digs itself in the mud. A little alarm bell starts ringing in my head - this is it, this pack of wolves is the pack of real skippers.
The UAZ factory has apparently invested some cash in advertisement of the UAZ Patriot. Dimka Samoprygov's tuning company, База Боевых Самопрыгов, managed to build a shiny pickup out of the impossible to define vehicle which the Patriot originally is.
During the last night, at the last camp, at the official gathering, the pilot will officially ask for the microphone, and will publicly announce that there will be no "next time" for the Patriot, and that he won't touch the thing even not for running in the "Tourism" category.
There are no motorcycles. ATV's are 4x4 only, and it's mandatory that they ride in teams of two machines.
All of them have forests of snorkels.
The smart ones also have UAZ parts on them.
Speeches come from the tribune. At noon, the cannon on the Kronstadt fortress shoots once, the sky fills with balloons, and the first team starts. The line is long, starting is according to the race numbers. I climb on my seat.
And Sasha the Skipper merges with the convoy
The inside of my head is a mess. I think about the people who invited me, who helped me without even knowing me. I think about how sometimes dreams come true. The crowd is cheering, the sun is hitting hard, and although everything seems like a dream, we make it through the start. The impossible happened. We're in. We made it to the Ladoga 2008.
The convoys stop on the streets around the main start. As per the locals' standards, these streets are pretty narrow. For me, they seem larger than our main boulevards. There is no traffic around us, as the police is blocking the way for everybody who is not part of the show. Most of the machines are simple jeeps, pickup trucks and RV's, but every once in a while really nice machines can be seen:
For some weird reason, the Isakiev church doesn't look anything like a church to me. Huge, depressing building.
I decide not to take a single picture of it. Same for Peterburg by night. I'm sure there's a gazillion of nice pictures of these places anyway. To make something different, one would need to be a real artist, or have a tilt lens, or probably both. Beauty is confusing. And I'm not an artist.
Little by little the large square fills with offroad vehicles, which will be in the eternal swampy forest by tonight. I don't believe such a quantity of prepared vehicles can be gathered together at any other place in the world.
A Dutch Daihatsu Rocky shyly stops next to ours. It's all shiny and nice. All perfect. Tough luck - it doesn't have no military UAZ axles with 36" Simex'es on them. And its crew still believes in the virtues of Civilisation. Monumental error maybe ?
People gather around, take pictures, smile compassionately. Nice little crowd. Some of them check how many and how strong tow hooks the thing has, already wondering how it will be towed after it hopelessly digs itself in the mud. A little alarm bell starts ringing in my head - this is it, this pack of wolves is the pack of real skippers.
The UAZ factory has apparently invested some cash in advertisement of the UAZ Patriot. Dimka Samoprygov's tuning company, База Боевых Самопрыгов, managed to build a shiny pickup out of the impossible to define vehicle which the Patriot originally is.
During the last night, at the last camp, at the official gathering, the pilot will officially ask for the microphone, and will publicly announce that there will be no "next time" for the Patriot, and that he won't touch the thing even not for running in the "Tourism" category.
There are no motorcycles. ATV's are 4x4 only, and it's mandatory that they ride in teams of two machines.
All of them have forests of snorkels.
The smart ones also have UAZ parts on them.
Speeches come from the tribune. At noon, the cannon on the Kronstadt fortress shoots once, the sky fills with balloons, and the first team starts. The line is long, starting is according to the race numbers. I climb on my seat.
And Sasha the Skipper merges with the convoy
The inside of my head is a mess. I think about the people who invited me, who helped me without even knowing me. I think about how sometimes dreams come true. The crowd is cheering, the sun is hitting hard, and although everything seems like a dream, we make it through the start. The impossible happened. We're in. We made it to the Ladoga 2008.
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