Good in the winter forest

Twenty kilometers from Ulan-Ude, where the Barguzinsky tract rapidly begins its steep climb to the pass, an old logging road runs off to the left along a ravine. Often at the beginning of winter, red clusters of rowan berries burn on the slopes of honeydew. An unfreezing spring breaks through the snowdrifts. Around him, on frost-covered branches of bushes in the rays of the sun rising from behind the ridge, there are scatterings of gems.

The ski trail stretches past thoughtfully bent birches and shaggy cedars. Gray pyramids of rocks flash to the left in the aspen forest, and a spacious clearing appears around the bend. Near the top. And when you rise to the top, it’s as if you find yourself in another world.

Main part

Snowstorms often rage here and the trees stand in white coats sparkling in the sun. As if embroidered on a snow-white tablecloth, capercaillie cross tracks and intricate hare zigzags scatter. There is a double beaded stitch on the snow, and in the middle of the line there is a mark from the tail. The wild inhabitants themselves signed in the snow — each in their own special handwriting.

If you can read these mysterious signs, you will learn many animal secrets. Like someone enchanted, a dense forest gets in the way. The snow fell on the trees, sometimes in a continuous blanket, sometimes in a cap, sometimes in an intricate pile. Good in the winter forest.

The day is quickly ending, the sun has disappeared, and the blue shadows of the evening have fallen on the path. Having returned home, you will be impressed by the fabulous pictures of the winter forest for a long time and dream of meeting them again on the next day off.