Friday 2/3

The night was calm most of the time, but every now and then a hard gust came by. When I arose at 07:45 everything was white and snowy, with a southwesterly wind, but it wasn't very cold. I packed some stuff before making breakfast, and then one of the wardens came in with the most recent forecast – as could be told from the already worsening weather, it was all but promising. However, as the morning went on it actually cleared to the south, revealing Stuor-Jiertá beyond Singi for the first time during the tour, and clouds were also lifting around Sälka; the wind had ceased too.

Cottages in the morning

Up Stuor Reaiddávággi

Pretty light to the south

When I departed along the trail at around 09:45 the wind was back to its usual level, but it wasn't bad. Both the snow and the air temperature were very good for skiing, but I made no haste. At first it looked as though it would continue to clear – there were even some glimpses of the sun – but in a heartbeat I was wrapped in whiteness. I met two men on snowshoes and shortly thereafter I encountered the other warden, who was on a morning walk – or, rather, ski trip – with the younger of their two dogs. I stopped to talk with her for a while, during which the wind once again subsided, and just when we had gone our separate ways the clouds broke apart, showing the sun – and a very large section of blue sky to the southwest. Large clouds were still drifting overhead, but they gave no snow and the clearing process continued in all directions; 'twas rather nice. A wind sprang into existence at Čuhčavággi (not at all an uncommon occurrence) and after that the clouds seemed intent on regaining what they had lost, and as I was approaching Kuoperjåkka I fought against a hard southwesterly wind.

Panning...

...the Sealggá massif...

...with the cottages beneath it

Intermittent sun

Mádir and Roavgoaivi

Following the trail...

...in increasing sunlight...

...and decreasing cloudiness

Passing Čuhčavággi again

Guobirčohkka

Drawing near to...

...Kuoperjåkka

Upon opening the door of the shelter after 11:15 I found one German inside, who had broken the fjeld code by using the emergency firewood to light a fire in the heater – something which is otherwise reserved for true life-or-death situations. There was also a good deal of stuff lying about, and a note told that the other two Germans who had left Sälka the day before were making an attempt on the South Peak. I can't see how they could have had much success with that. After eating I went out for a short bit; it was clearer, but the wind remained hard.

When I came back inside the interior of the little building was filled with smoke – apparently there was a back draft in the chimney, and the heater's hatch was also broken. I opened the window to get rid of the smoke and tried to minimize the chink around the hatch, but it only got worse. I then suggested to the German that we should put the fire out with snow – and in response to this he put on his skis and left, leaving me to tidy up his mess. Code breaker, indeed! I proceeded as planned, and did my best to remove the resulting slush so as not to hamper any legitimate use of the heater. Shortly after I was done the two nice Germans from Sälka arrived on snowshoes. Both wind and visibility had started to worsen somewhat, and when another two Germans on snowhoes came in from the north (in fact, these were the same two I had met just south of Sälka in the morning) I saw fit to leave.

I skied in unrelenting hard wind, with moderately good vision in several directions, but soon it started snowing, which also brought visibility down. As I was nearing the crest just south of the bridge over Čeakčajohka under Mádir everything steadily deteriorated; the wind ripped at my clothes and rucksack, but I was perfectly snug inside it all. I like that feeling. When I was passing Goržževuolli Sámi encampment it was all white, and just before arriving at the cottages at 13:30 there was so much snow whirling up from the ground that I couldn't see a thing. I went over to say hello to the wardens and then entered the same yellow cottage as before.

Unna Avrrik just visible

Seeing Goržževuolli again

Back in Singi...

...beneath Unna Avrrik

An older Swiss man – also with snowshoes and sled – was there, but he was just on his way out to chop firewood. The rest of the afternoon held very hard gusts of wind that came between long periods of but medium wind strength – the approaching gales could be detected a few seconds in advance by looking at the snow they carried with them overhead, and when they hit the walls and windows quivered. I had a snack while the Swiss wrote diary entries and painted wintery motifs in a small booklet, and later on all the Germans came in.

The "other two" had spent the night in Kuoperjåkka together with the pair who were now somewhere on Giebmegáisi and an American, and the reason they had returned to Sälka in the morning was that they had forgotten a thermos there two days past, and felt it worthwhile going after it. I talked with the Swiss for a bit – both he and the duo I knew from Sälka were going to Kebnekaise the next day – while the worst of the wind gave way to snowfall. I then killed some time by playing solitaire and reading before Ludvig came in to check on us. Outside the gusts and snow continued, and I lay down to rest before joining the Sälka-Germans for a game of cards – this time. After some rounds I made dinner, and the rest followed suit.

We played more cards afterwards, and now it was blowing strongly from the west, with no foreseeable end to the falling snow. The old man went to bed early while the card game continued for a while longer, and then I played some cards with myself before it was time for my evening snack. A veiled moon could be seen as well as a good deal of the surrounding landscape, but snow was drifting everywhere as I went to bed to read while the others remained up and about. Outside the pattern of almost-no-wind-and-sudden-strong-gales grew further polarized, and I felt a real worry for the integrity of the windowpanes.