On a long weekend in May, dozens of kayaks float down the Kerzhenets River. This story began to be told at the end of the last century. Once in this place one of the tourists disappeared. He simply fought off his group, but no one looked for him. So he disappeared, not finding a way back. Since that day, as eyewitnesses assure, this tourist wanders along the protected coast and seeks a victim for revenge.
Kerzhenets flows along the edge of a vast nature reserve. Parking on the left protected bank is prohibited. On the right you can put up tents and make fires. Towards the evening, groups of water tourists tend to take the most convenient places for spending the night. In good weather, when large companies are rafting, it is not easy to get up in a picturesque place.
Friends on three kayaks were late. Bonfires were already burning along the entire coast, and they were still looking for a convenient descent to the water. For some reason, they were closer to the protected coast and saw a small sandy beach and a flat meadow on a hillock. After some discussion, they decided that the protection of the reserve is unlikely to find them. We moored and unloaded the kayaks. For some reason, this habitual work dragged on until dark.
There was an old fireplace and half-rotten wood in the clearing. The tourists put a taganka with a kettle, got pasta and stew. Time passed, and the water did not boil, although the fire broke out. Everyone felt a kind of painful fatigue.
The pasta took a suspiciously long time. When, at last, supper began, a man came up to the fire. It looks like an ordinary village man in a jacket, cap, rubber boots. Friends prepared to explain how they got into the reserve. But the man silently walked by.
He disappeared from the firelight and headed for the water.
- The poacher is going to shoot the net, - decided the tourists. The conversations and songs that are obligatory on the hikes did not go well. Some got up and went to the tents. There was a call:
- Hey, what do you want! - the same man again passed through the clearing. We followed him with a lantern, expecting to see a poaching boat. The beach was empty.
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The tourists planned to get up early, because the next day they had to catch the finish point of the route. But everyone slept. It turned out that all clocks show different times with a spread per hour. And again the water boiled for a long time, it took a long time to get together. Someone remained in the clearing, someone was packing things into kayaks.
- Have you seen the old man, where did he go? - came the voice of one of the tourists.
“We didn't see anyone near the water. But he crossed the clearing once more!
Ahead - the last section of the river to the bridge and the waiting car. We laid on the oars. The day was overcast. The clock again showed a different time. Evening seemed to be approaching, although they had only recently seen dawn.
At the end of the route, near the bridge, they were met by an angry GAZelle driver. He waited for them almost six hours (at that time there was no mobile connection in the region yet).
Perhaps the tourists themselves came up with all this to justify their lateness. And, perhaps, it was these guys who were lucky that they did not become a victim of a tourist who once disappeared in these places.
Many who have been to the region of the Kerzhenets River assure that in the forests along the river sometimes there is a feeling of some abnormal heaviness and melancholy, and time seems to stop.