So, we continue walking to Daugavpils. Līksna is already behind us, but the ice drift is ahead. To be honest, I've forgotten everything due to the passage of time, I only remember that it was all insanely cool. I never thought that walking on foot, and not even in summer at that, could be cool, but here it was on par with my best bike rides.
Such a river wouldn't be an obstacle for us, but we don't need to get to the other side
It's even boring, no need to jump or wade
A little tree
But here you have to jump, which Visla is doing
And Oleg too
Barely made the jump, practically falling into the abyss
But friends will always extend a stick at the right moment
This is, well, not a jump, but a flutter
The stream is just too shallow
Temporary
Wide is my native river
And it has many trees in it (I mean, nearby)
Spread out
Such people can do anything
Even trudge ankle-deep in a grass-and-mud slush
Or they can just walk on the road
On the road, the pole is out of a job
Everyone has infrared targeting glasses to jump better
Sometimes the riverbank breaks off under you
And sometimes there are boring bridges
And cheerful power lines
The pictures of the Motherland take your breath away
And its puddles
And its crooked little pines
Edvin is resting with all his might
The rest aren't trying as hard
Just sitting there, glancing around
Something like that
While we were sitting, an old lady walked up and, in brisk Latgalian, started asking who we were and where we were going. To my admiration and shock, Edvin, whose talents we had mostly observed in posing so far, started answering her cheerfully. I have a hard time understanding even Latvian when it's everyday and conversational, but Latgalian left an absolutely alien impression on me. For those out of the loop - I live in Latgale (a part of Latvia), and due to the fact that there has always been a strong influence of Russians and, for example, Poles here, the local villagers speak some savage hybrid language that even has the letter "Ы". I think we should fight to make it a state language too - this would undoubtedly help the mutual understanding of the Latvian and Russian peoples. By the way, the old lady informed us that in 1956 the Daugava flooded all the way up to where we were sitting. And that is, mind you, about 15 meters high from the visible bank, and even more in width.
A logical bottle - in the forest, a forest one
I'm not gonna walk on the road, it's boring! Let's go into the forest instead, right over there!
Suddenly, the Svente bridge
And the spring flood, although not suddenly
I don't know how Oleg timed it so well, but we hit the most interesting part
Giant ice floes float leisurely, but they won't survive anymore
The circular saw did its best. I wonder where the radiolaria is?
Ice drift in all its glory
The ducks were putting on a show for us
The ones with green heads are drakes
And the ones that are grayish-brown are females
A crowd of drakes was flying after just two females, after which they would all land on an ice floe together. It would float down to the bridge, forcing the flock to fly forward again. And so they kept riding like on a carousel. By the looks of it, they were planning to do this all day, they weren't getting bored of it.
We watched the enchanting spectacle - and went back to walking
Through the fields
And even on the asphalt. Eww, of course, but you try walking 30 km knee-deep in snow and mud, then I'll take a look at you
A little cabin
The lonely trailer of a guest house
Suddenly, an anchor
Cool dudes ride ATVs
The guy caught up with us, asked who we were and where we were headed
Rainis's memorial site. Don't tell anyone, but I desecrated it by peeing behind the cube (there was nowhere else)
This is how cute the boots look after a hike
A vintage green stop sign
Visla walks along as if nothing happened
And Edgar has finally fully realized what he signed up for
A vintage metal fence
Hills
Even at the very end, we're walking through the fields, not on the road
Because we are - a gang the "Snowdrop" club.
Rails, rails. I've always wanted to walk across a railway bridge, but there's security there
Bye-bye
A volcano
In the city, the ice has already completely shattered
Especially for us - you could just go hang yourself, we've already marched almost 30 km
Shards of former glory
Townspeople are feeding the birds and admiring the sunset
A closer look at the birdies
A closer look at the sunset
In closing, I want to say that this hike was just insanely cool. I absolutely loved it; you rarely get to experience something like this in life. Almost a ++++ on the Shulgin scale. (Or as close as I am capable of experiencing such a thing at all). Incredible beauty - and it was the first time I'd observed the moment the ice drift started. It was also very fun, with all these storming of rivers and fords. And extremely diverse - on a bike in the summer there is no such diversity, no matter how you look at it - forest, dirt road, highway, and that's pretty much it.
So a huge thanks to Oleg, and to my companions too, since everyone turned out to be a daredevil and waded into the water themselves. Then again, you wouldn't expect anything less from members of the "Snowdrop" club!