DPS post at the entrance to Nerungri (Southern Yakutia), 2016. I go to a Toyota Sequoia with Moscow numbers, the car is loaded under the roof, there is a powerful mud rubber. A young man stops me. He checks the documents, goes by the car, wrinkles and asks, "Why did you get such a rubber? You came from Moscow and you think there are no roads in Yakutia?” I, inside, smile and say, “I don’t think, I know!” As a result, he demanded back the documents and spent half an hour browsing through all the bases, including, probably, Interpol, what a redis came to visit them. Nothing was found, very upset returned the documents and said: "I usually wait here in 2 days for the third. If you are an honest person, on the way back you will find me or my colleagues here and tell us that we have good roads, of course?” I had to agree and cuddle, hiding a smile. After a month and a half on the way back, the post was closed, and a dishonest man had to return. I did not leave a note.
In 2018, I ride the same car and the same rubber again. The road is empty, dark, the DPS post I pass around the hour of the night. On it, I am stopped by an elderly haishnik with obvious Caucasian roots, checks documents, asks to get out of the car. I get out of the car after four o'clock, I pull. He lights me in the face, and I sneeze. “Go to the post!” Opanki, why am I so violated that they are leading up to the post? I go after him. On the post, he points to the chair, gets a cake and pouches into a glass of tea. “Eat and drink tea.” I try to refuse – I crash into the steel look of a professional law officer. I drink and give cake, although it is delicious. “Are you in a hurry? “Where are you going to sleep?” No, I say, I am not in a hurry, I was gathering in the city in the cabin to pokemon and continue to drive on the star. “Clearly. I am on duty. In the corner we have a couch, go to bed, at 6 am I will raise you up. You are tired, I forbid you to drive in this state.” It was said in such a harsh, caring tone that he did not object, laying on the couch and perfectly pokemary until dawn. I got another cup of tea in the morning. While drinking, the haishnik asks me, "You were here two years ago, too?" I almost drowned with tea, I don't fige myself, I think the second year the local haishniki pastured me! I tell him about my meeting with the young man two years ago, about my work throughout Yakutia. The elderly man smiles: “I was waiting, all looked at your car, noticeable. I remember how a colleague told me two years ago about a similar car on mud rubber and everyone was upset that these Moscovites sit in their capital and think that there are no good roads anywhere else. You do not offend him, he is a good guy, just he from Nerungri in the car himself never left, other roads of our have not seen, and in our city they are really not bad! " I looked, I remembered the other Yakutia roads, on which in the summer after the rain, the fours on the cabin collapse, and I say, "You tell him that I, as an honest person, told you that in Nerungri the expensive are good, and the lane "Lena" has become good, but the rest of the roads are still waiting for their hour. And if he is also an honest man, he will agree!” He put off the apple and went on.