"Kårsavagge in early summer" had been on my wish list for quite some time, so now that external events conspired to make it possible I was glad to get the chance. Having already visited the place in both winter and autumn, what enticed me about the start of the summer season was the mix of a green valley with snowy mountains all around. The latter part was of course no problem this year, but I did feel somewhat anxious beforehand about whether the former would actually come to pass in a reasonable amount of time, so that great warmth in early June was really a boon – without it things would have been much drearier, not to mention difficult locomotion-wise.

Speaking of the snow, there were as mentioned lots of it left on the heights, as well as collected in drifts and fields here and there along the paths. Still, it carried well almost all the time, while the surface was still soft enough to provide traction even on steeply slanting parts, so all in all I think it was more of a help than a hindrance, at least in the immediate area around Kårsavagge (apart from where it concealed trail markers and the like). The biggest problem was the melting, which produced (temporary but to-be-reckoned-with) high water levels that caused some trouble for some people; the whole spring flood was delayed by a month or so.

While I will concede that the white part of the abovementioned relation was a bit more extensive than I had envisioned, the combined effect of simultaneous winter and summer was just as striking as I had wanted. All the slopes were riddled with a staggering amount of flowers, and even as the first bloom faded additional rounds took by as the snow melted and gave more and more ground the chance to sprout – with a constant contrasting backdrop of gleaming whiteness, including sheets and bergs of ice on the lakes. Great stuff.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Gorsavággi is Imladris/Rivendell, and the Kårsavagge cottage plays the role of The Last Homely House well. Whether they recognized the connection or not (the names actually mean the same thing), pretty much everyone who came by was mesmerized by the beauty of the valley, and words like "fairy tale", "legend" and "otherworldly" were often brandied about. For it is a spectacular location, with a deep verdant gorge walled in by very steep mountainsides with a multitude of naked cliffs over which many a gracile waterfall throws itself, giving rise to both sound and mist – all with the seemingly eternal snow higher up and further in to complete the scene. The uniqueness of the place is heightened by the fact that it is so accessible, yet at the same time feels so very remote and secluded – and secret.

While staying in the valley is more than enough to elicit the abovementioned reactions, where just going over to the Bajimus Gorsajávri bend is a stunning low-effort option, the real treat comes when one climbs out of it and regards it from above, which I did during my day tours. Anywhere will do, really, but the marked paths offer obvious choices, and the best view of them all is the one one gets when descending along the Abiskojaure route. Frippe's fall is of course also a must when one is in the area, and I for one was glad to finally get a chance to visit Låktatjåkka. More great stuff.

As for the visitor flow, two things stood out: 1) there were quite a few people out and about, and 2) there were many more campers than indoor guests. The first was to be expected since no one made it abroad this summer, so more people than usual sought out the fjelds instead, and the second was also expected because distancing is much easier when you can pick your own spot on the boundless vistas. That said, the restrictions and routines that had been imposed to make cottage visits as safe as possible mostly worked well, surely helped by the fact that my period lay before the high season, although the smallness of the single Kårsavagge cottage was of course a bit of a hassle – also as expected. And, even though I did have a number of cases when people wanted to come inside without a reservation, all of them had tents and so had not actually chanced it, so information about the summer's unusual rules seemed to have spread well.

Two other things that were considerably lessened compared to an average year were 1) foreign visitors, and 2) spontaneity. There were a few of the former, but the usually quite common Norwegians were entirely absent, and the latter was sorely missed by many of those who did make reservations. It is the dear hope of many, myself included, that the possibility to show up at a cottage when and where one pleases will be restored as quickly as possible, and that the advance booking will be a footnote in history – anything else would be a tragedy. It remains to be seen which of the other new routines will survive beyond the coronal umbra, but I think it likely that some of them will.

In closing, I can only say that my wardenship period was successful – especially considering the circumstances, including the snow situation. As usual I had a list of day tour targets I wanted to reach, and I could tick off all of the important ones, so all was well. It might have been a bit warmer there for a while, of course, but one shan't complain when one gets to spend a month in an ethereal Elven realm apart from the busy world of Men. Like a certain adventurous Halfling, I shall surely return.