Purpose of the hike: to visit the Kleban-Byk regional landscape park with a look at the outcrops of bedrock. Route: the Kleban-Byk stop, the settlement of Kleban-Byk, the Kleban-Byk RLP, the reservoir, the quarry, the village of Pleshchiivka, the Pleshchiivka stop. Distance: 13.5 km. Time: 3 hours 40 minutes. Weather: sunny, +18° .. +27°.
The central section of the Kleban-Byk regional landscape park can be reached from the western side, from the H-20 highway. The eastern part of the park can be viewed by taking the suburban train Izium-Fenolna or Sloviansk-Fenolna to the Kleban-Byk stop.
The Kleban-Byk stop
The path leads west and for a few metres runs along the edge of the working settlement of Shcherbynivka.
The Kryvyi Torets river I have seen in Druzhkivka, Kostiantynivka and Kramatorsk. At this place the water artery of the Donetsk Ridge is a few metres wide. Flowing through the territory of a phenol plant and a radioactive-waste dump, having received an excessive dose of untreated industrial waste, this blue thoroughfare carries in its waters the salts of heavy metals, emptying into the Kazennyi Torets.
The riverside stretch is of a level character and is used for grazing cows and sheep.
The cows blocked the road, and the herdsman hurried to my aid, driving off the herd and telling me about his charges. Hornless animals are called polled; they too can butt even their own owners. The cows are of the meat-and-dairy kind and give about 18-20 litres of milk a day. There are 200 head in the herd, and their shepherd knows all their characteristic features and unusual nicknames. The Auroras, Glorias and Dusties turned out to be friendly, with clean, glossy coats. It is noticeable that the owners look after their breadwinners. But the bull does not come out onto the green meadow; he spends his time in an enclosed space, and a meeting between him and the cows costs the latter's owners 450 hryvnias.
The plain gave way to soft hills, and the path began to climb.
On the slopes cut by ravines a row of power lines was drawn up. This high-voltage energy equipment would meet me throughout the whole hike, voicing the surrounding countryside with a monotonous hum.
From the height one can see the mine named after Saint Matrona of Moscow and the outskirts of Toretsk.
The asphalt-surfaced road to the south towards Shcherbynivka
and to the north towards Kostiantynivka.
A road of concrete slabs, surrounded by acacias, leads to an electrical substation.
On the other edge of a field with brown-coloured soil the settlement of Kleban-Byk can be seen.
At the crossroads an information board is set up with a description of the 'Kleban-Byk' regional landscape park and rules of conduct on its territory.
The road to the south towards Katerynivka.
A scheduled bus from Katerynivka to the district centre Kostiantynivka.
The former Radianska Street has been renamed Parkova. The settlement is supplied with gas.
The houses are built of stone from the local quarry and are, in the words of a local resident, more than 70 years old.
From the local quarry the cobblestones were made with which the alleys in the park and Parkova Street are paved.
Communal graves are often considered the main landmarks and are located in the centre of settlements, in places of mass recreation. The place of entertainment for the people, near war memorials, is not always well chosen.
The dried bouquets, laid by schoolchildren on 8 September, on the Day of the Liberation of the Donbas from the Hitlerites, apparently have no one to clear them away. The planned event was carried out, and that is that.
In a building of the 1950s there is a laboratory where they carry out the chemical analysis of drinking water — the most valuable natural resource.
The only shop I came across in this settlement of about 400 people.
The house of culture, with samples of monumental propaganda on its facade, has long been closed, and its columns and verandas are noticeably crumbling.
As I was examining the bas-reliefs of the socialist-realism era, a woman came out of a side street. Seeing me on the deserted square, the only living soul, she hurried up with a question: 'How do I get to the reservoir?' 'I'm just about to head there, but first I need to photograph the house of culture and the school,' I answered. We introduced ourselves, and Liuda agreed to join me in studying the architectural landmarks of the settlement, so that we could then set off together for the reservoir.
Having examined the decor of this extinguished hearth of culture, for whose revival there is no hope whatever, and having counted all the doors of the house of culture, we noticed that the pedestal of the demolished statue of the leader of the proletariat is made of the same stone as the walls of the houses.
The school is 4 years older than the house of culture. The building is done in a strict classical style, like all Stalin-era educational institutions.
My companion suggested going into the school — it would be interesting to see what it is like inside.
In the corridor two women were talking, one of them the deputy head. To our request to go inside we were refused; permission had to be asked of the director. I am always curious to look at the alma mater of the local rising generation, and I am often invited into schools, both in the towns and in the villages. Only 5 days ago I visited the Novhorodske School No. 17 of the town of Toretsk, which is also near the zone of the military conflict. We did not trouble the school leadership and moved on towards our intended goal, noting in passing the presence of a sports ground in the school yard.
Next to the school are the ruins of a rectangular, symmetrical building, which could once have been a children's and youth centre of creativity, and earlier still a House of Pioneers.
Zelena Street pleased me with its beautiful houses and the flowering front gardens beside them. The settlement was founded at the beginning of the 19th century by Mennonites, and German neatness and scrupulousness has not vanished with the passage of time.
The building of the former canteen is in oblivion and desolation after the change of owner in 2009.
On Uchytelska Street our promenade through the settlement of Kleban-Byk ended, and Liudmyla and I came out onto the home straight towards the landscape park.
On the information board with the plan-scheme of the park it is written in red letters that, in connection with African swine fever, entry to the RLP territory is temporarily restricted. It is not clear for what term it is restricted and for whom it is not restricted. But we are travellers on foot, and for us there are no prohibitions.
There are no prohibitions either on the use of the nature-monument lands by private owners, although the Rules state that any construction is forbidden.
The 'Kleban-Byk' regional park, with an area of 2,090 hectares, was created in 2000 for the preservation and rational use of unique natural complexes, flora and fauna. Its picturesque banks are covered with ravine woodlands and oak groves.
Medicinal herbs are no rarity, and in September I came across a source of vitamins — the almost-ripe wild rose.
The wild apple trees are strewn with fruit. There is so much of it that you get the impression of walking through a wild apple orchard.
In this locality dry-standing vegetation prevails.
The Kleban-Byk reservoir was created at the mouth of the river Bychok and has a shoreline length of 24 kilometres. The greatest depth of the artificial reservoir is now 9 metres, and a few years ago this figure was 3 times greater.
The reservoir is becoming overgrown with reeds, and in some places you can wade through it knee-deep in water. Anglers can boast catches of silver carp, crucian carp, carp and grass carp. Fishing is free; only the entry of a car is paid for.
In the park nest swans, ducks and about 100 species of small birds.
One can meet the yellow-bellied racer and the lodges of the muskrat, listed in the Red Book of Ukraine.
My companion drew water from the reservoir into containers, to take samples for analysis — which is, in fact, why she had come here from Avdiivka. The chemical and biological composition of the water resources of the Donbas is constantly studied and monitored by specialists. Here Liudmyla and I said goodbye; she went back along the same road by which we had come into the park, and I headed for the next site of my hike — the quarry.
The area by the dam is fenced off with barbed wire. The hydraulic structure was built in 1950, and for its sake the khutir Chervona Dolyna was flooded.
After the dry summer no surplus of water mass is observed.
Regional landscape parks are created to highlight the characteristic natural features of a locality.
In an industrial district natural scenery neighbours industrial sites.
High-voltage wires create an electromagnetic field. The wind plays with the wires like a bow on violin strings, and around the pylons a sound spreads, like the hum of swarms of bees.
The creation of the park is also a tribute to the historical past. In 1500, in a tsar's charter issued to the Zaporozhian Host to fix the bounds of the Cossack liberties, this locality was named the Bychok River tract, and later Klebyna. Since 1720 the name Kleban-Byk has existed, which has not changed to our day. Near the place where the river Bychok joins the Kryvyi Torets, where I too am heading, there stood a Cossack sentry outpost. In these steppes the Cossacks held the defence against nomadic tribes and guarded the borders of Muscovy.
By a drainage pipe a flock of geese had set up a sentry post. Seeing a stranger, they raised a hullabaloo and went for me in a whole gaggle.
Then they turned sharply, as if on command, dashed off after their leader and cleared the passage across the little bridge.
And here the settlement's residents dump their rubbish along the picturesque ravines.
A pumpkin many-colouredness in September, despite the absence of rain.
A high-voltage quartet.
The tourist path leads me to the quarry, which formed in the Permian period on the bottom of a sea. The entrance is barred by a barrier.
A stone ridge stretches for 500 metres from north-west to south-east. The layers of sandstone with gravelite interlayers are more than 300 million years old.
The working of the quarry and the extraction of stone took place in four pits.
The height of the canyon reaches 15 metres. In the bedrock of this ancient landscape one can see petrified plants, insects and molluscs.
Until 2014 the cut was used for the training of climbers. At the foot of the quarry there unexpectedly turned out to be the place where the rivers Bychok and Kryvyi Torets join.
The small rivers of the Donbas — quiet, patient and enduring. Their springs are clogged, the rare rains do not replenish their channels with water, their banks are strewn with rubbish and overgrown with reeds. Into the blue arteries of this industrial land they dump whatever comes to hand, destroying the fish and the waterfowl. Along the whole length of the rivers they create ponds and use the water for husbandry, but few think about preserving this most valuable water resource.
The last tourist site had been studied, and it was time to hurry to the Kleban-Byk stop, from which my journey had begun. But I did not want to return by the familiar road, and I decided to walk to Pleshchiivka and there catch the suburban train. It is one kilometre farther, but there is a chance of seeing something new.
A climb up the road with a gradient of 20-25 degrees.
The RLP with the mirror of the reservoir and the settlement of Kleban-Byk as if in the palm of your hand.
Over the fields rise round-plan hills. What are they? Spoil heaps or burial mounds?
How could I not have a look, if I am passing near an unclear object? I walked to the mound across the already-sown field.
The soil in the field is brown in colour. Such earth dries out quickly after rain, which is bad for the plants. An excess of sand makes the land less fertile. The winter wheat sown in the middle of September had already given weak sprouts. The dry winds and the lack of moisture destroy the future harvest at the root. Much grain is scattered and left unsown, drying out under the scorching sun.
I came almost right up to the hillock, about 30 metres in diameter and about 2 metres high. And suddenly a flock of young pheasants flew up out of the thickets. The wind prevented them from hearing my steps. Perhaps on the hillock they had arranged a nest or a place of secluded rest. The noise from the splash of the wings of a dozen frightened birds felt like the tramp of a dozen elephants. A moment — and the nimble feathered creatures vanished behind the hillock. The dense, thorny vegetation did not allow me even a superficial look at the rise.
One kilometre remained to Pleshchiivka, and about 15 minutes until the arrival of the electric train.
I was in no hurry and did not hope to catch it. The heat and the journey over the hilly terrain had added to my tiredness after all, and I did not push myself. I could have hitchhiked and got a ride by car, but that is not my rule. I go only on foot, relying on my own strength. In the morning I had seen a scheduled bus and decided that getting out of here would be no problem.
On the edge of the settlement, where the sowing of the winter crops had begun, heaps of grain were scattered.
Pleshchiivka, like the settlements of Kleban-Byk and Novhorodske, was founded by Mennonites. The residents of the German colony loved to work the land and had large families of 15-17 children.
There is no school in Pleshchiivka, but the kindergarten works.
In the club, clubs and a library operate.
There are no landmarks in Pleshchiivka, and I would have had to wait more than an hour for the bus.
Pleshchiivka. The former shop
It was good that a girl came out of the shop and told me about this, and also pointed out the nearest way to the railway station.
The likelihood that I would catch the electric train was minimal, but I recalled cases when it was a few minutes late, and this helped a traveller to catch it. I already heard the sound of the approaching train and raced the 350 metres from the shop to the stop at full pelt. I had to run along a side street that had been strewn with crushed stone, with ropes for levelling the road surface stretched across it every 2-3 metres. It was an obstacle run, with untrodden gravel turning underfoot.
Pleshchiivka. Zaliznychna Street
Some force carried me to the last carriage, and I jumped into it with a feeling of great joy.
The upshot: the goal is achieved, everything went off, I saw and learned much, and I share my impressions with you.
Coordinates: 48°26'17"N 37°43'23"E — the central section of the 'Kleban-Byk' RLP.
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