Let's start with the sauna. As expected it was requested almost every day, and also as expected most of the patrons were Finns. As those tend to be somewhat... shall we say, discerning when it comes to saunas, I was glad to note that verdicts like "great" and "perfect" were often given afterwards. The two common complaints were the distance to the water source and the lack of a separate washing room, but there was nothing I could do about either.

Speaking of water, carrying multiple buckets up the hill every day was a bit burdensome, but not really more so than in some places I've been before, and I kept fit as a result. The distance up to the sauna was more than twice as long as to the warden's cottage, however, so I often kept water in buckets outside the latter to avoid having to take the whole stretch in one go. As for the guests' willingness to refill the sauna buckets after use, it was... well, varied, and it often fell upon me to prep the sauna for the next day.

Cleaning the sauna quickly became routine, and thanks to its small size and physical characteristics it wasn't very arduous, but I was still glad to be rid of the onus after five weeks. That small size also put up frequent challenges when it came to allotting time slots for the guests, since only 3–4 people could comfortably fit inside at a time, so I often had to put my mind to it and keep an eye on the progress, which took a bit of a toll. In the end I was only able to use the sauna myself a few times, since I didn't fancy waiting until it was too late in the evening, but I thought it sufficed and the times I did go in it was very good indeed – although I too missed an adjacent pool...

But, enough of the sauna now. The other repeating occurrence was the Green Ribboners, even though there was no real rush; only a handful of visits a week. Most of them didn't stay the night at Pältsa, though, since once they had come that far the goal was almost literally within sight and they were eager to finish. Regardless, they're an impressive bunch – as were the other long-hikers who passed by.

As expected most guests were from Finland, and their linguistic abilities varied quite a bit. Some of them spoke Swedish to some degree – usually the older ones, and some were from a part of Finland where Swedish is the first language – and most spoke enough English to make themselves understood (and to understand me), but the level of the latter displayed a very wide range. Then there were those who spoke nothing but Finnish (and the Austrian who spoke only German), but in the end that mostly worked out as well, sometimes with the help of other guests. Still, it is no coincidence that many of the Pältsa wardens throughout the years have been Finnish speakers.

Further on the topic of multinationality, in these days of increased polarization and state-level armed aggression, it is a fine thing to have a region where borders are mere lines on a map, and people – locals or otherwise – pass freely back and forth over them, bolstered by a spirit of cooperation and interdependency between the available services I myself was a part of. Can we have more of that, please?

As for the weather, I again find that the photo files named "cloud" reached quite a high number. That is telling, to the point of making it into the report's subtitle. The reason is, of course, that the Moskkugáisi/Bealčán massif, being the highest mountains on what is basically a big plateau, works as a cloud magnet. As a result there were often showers in and from said massif, and when not the clouds gave rise to many an interesting light show – especially in the evenings, when the sun passed through that region of the sky. The rainbows were also many and imposing.

Even though it did rain, and at times quite a bit, it was nowhere near the levels seen further south in Scandinavia, and as mentioned I never saw much of the infamous storm Hans. In fact, the whole area was much drier than usual, with several streams and pools completely dried up until quite late in the season; it was only sometime during the last week that Čearpmatjohka and the stream east of the great "trail ridge" towards Gappo saw any water whatsoever. Here I was certainly glad for the cold spring, as the closest water source would otherwise have been much further away.

That ridge must also be singled out as something rather special. It is very marked as it rises from almost level ground and does, in fact, continue for a large part of the valley, but it is on the stretch past Vávrratvuopmi that it is most pronounced. The whole area is rich in interesting geological features for those so inclined, and for everyone else it is just pretty.

I made pretty much the day tours I had planned to do, with the visits to Steinhytta and Gappohytta as the apex, even though I never made it to the top (either one) of Bealčán – but then again only a few other people did that. I was also glad to finally catch a fish, after many attempts, but also in that regard I was joined by most visitors, quite a few of whom were fishermen, for it seemed that the fish were simply hard to trick this summer. When it came to other animals, the visit from the horses was a clear high point for everyone involved.

My one regret, if it can be called that, is that the autumn colors were later in arriving than I had thought and hoped. When they finally did come, however, they did so in force, and the last couple of days were simply stunning – I just wish the final shift could have happened somewhat earlier, so that I could have enjoyed them for longer. As it was, it was really a shame to leave when I did, especially since that also meant that everyone else who wanted to experience the explosion of hues (which the Finns call ruska) lost a point of accommodation, making round trips harder. Oh well.

As a final note, the looong round trip of my own there and back again worked out perfectly, and the trek across the border to Goldahytta at the end was even more colorful than I could have wished for. That together with the pit stop at Abisko made for the perfect ending to this northern adventure of mine.