I read the story in the year edak 1997 at the Wheels conference. It was then printed and stored for more than ten years. Now I got in the eye and I printed this story from a yellow page for you. The story is not funny, but it takes something for the soul. So listen to...

I saw an amateur film, like a column of Urals-benzovozes in the spring.
“Chuck...” is all. I got caught! I am beginning to nostalgia! Give up!

He walked on the "Ural" on the swimming pools of Kolyma and Omolona, on the Ohotsk tundra, on the
and Kamchatka. Fuck all the other cars! In addition to the K-700, which we placed a third axis, and chased with knives. But the "Kirovs" lost to the Urals with a foolish jump - I once wiped my back in the blood with a wool sweater for the flight. As well as sailing - in rivers with a depth of more than one and a half meters they take off. Half of the roads are along rivers and streams. In autumn and spring, the metro depths of the tracks are poured with ice-water-clay-stone grass.
The Ural is like a tank. And when the GAZ-71 (allroad) lies on a deep snow or on a deep rail on a boat, and without a barrel and seals can not get out, the "Ural" easily pulls it, like a barrel.
GTT surrendered to "Ural" on the stony road - we had a stretching.
In the tundra, it is the opposite. Although "Ural" was fun on the front and on the tundra, on the cows. Prey on the harvest tundra - rolls and harvests, and beds of the cedar stallion. And unlike everywhere, it can return on its own or meet on the old track - everywhere can not, because the broken leaflets are aimed at him in the windshields (which in GAZ-71, that in GTT).
On the Urals, we had airborne pipes a meter above the cabin.
Thanks to this, we crossed the Guizigua on them, from half a meter of water above the cabin. Just cut off the fan so that the blades do not break the water.
The feelings are cooler than those of the filmish Italians who dive into the river.
of Russia. From the side to look even more terrifying - dive into the drainage of water from the cap, and then - only boiling buruns, and above them "periscope" air drainage.
Minus 55 degrees on board - it works great. The cabin is covered from the inside. Many also close part of the glass. In the windows of the doors leave a glimpse from the palm, and then - only to the left. There, indeed, the technique is not silenced at all, so the problem of "starting" stands. But if it is stung - then the grey block with a solar torch or a solenoid lamp.
You sleep in a barracks, and under its walls all night, 5-6 "Ural" and the same number of tractors. Interestingly - every driver hears through a dream his car, and a little coughing - comes out of the dormitory-cocktail, matures and climbs into the purging.
Behind the cabin, our reserve drivers glued a rainy grave, in which they carried everything with them - from a full set of spare parts, a bedroom, an abundant food supply and ending with a gasoline and wood. And some, when there is nowhere to get an unnecessary barrel of fuel, just check on the carpet and pull after them on the track. But it is only on the soft road.
"Ural" quietly pulls out incredible twists. You want to go and fuck you. What a shit, to sing! It must be felt.

He returned after the north to the mainland and took the sixth. He walked into the courtyard, and on the machine entered the lip. Then I remembered that a second before this in my head whispered - "Tyfu, what a shit!“”