Saturday 23/2 – Wednesday 27/2

Saturday 23/2

The day started out with hard winds and lots of whirling snow, but in time for my later-than-usual breakfast it had mostly died down. I therefore went out and cleared the paths once more, but since the wind had been blowing from a different direction the drifts were of a more manageable kind. The snowfall went on, however, and I spent most of the day indoors. I did, however, have to switch a gas canister at the main cottage – something which is always easier in winter, as those things are heavy indeed. In the evening the snowfall intensified, yielding more perceptible results, and when I entered bed at 22 it was still at it.

Ptarmigan on the yard

Main building

Sunday 24/2

I awoke sometime during the night due to powerful gales that shook the house, and the winds were still strong when I had to go out in the morning. Everything was white and the thermometer showed –2°C – a good thing, that, as rain would have been worse. The wind was actually fairly weak on average, but the gusts were definitely to be reckoned with. Once I was done with morning procedures I went out to start the shovelling project of the day. Again the drift was not as bad as feared, but digging through it was not entirely pleasant under current weather conditions.

During a gale

Between gales

In the afternoon visibility was a bit better, but the snow and wind continued. No meaningful change in either weather or human presence came, so I entrusted my entertainment to radio and reading. When it was time to turn in the wind was much lessened and the clouds were sparser, but there was still snow in the air.

Monday 25/2

The wind returned during the night, culminating in very hard but short gales in the morning. Not surprisingly it was all white outside, and once again I had to dig my way between the buildings, not to mention into the upper one. After that I went to fetch water, and was pleased to see that the water hole still needed no maintenance despite the severe weather of the last few days. The fresh snow made climbing out of the ravine with the barrels taxing, but once I was up on the trail the firmer base made for easier travel.

After a quiet lunch I set about baking more bread, during which I observed two people approaching from the north, but they continued on the other side of the stream. While the bread was in the oven I saw two other skiers with sleds following the same route as the previous ones, and given the time and their speed I judged that they would not make it further than the Tjäktja Pass shelter. Soon thereafter I heard a sound outside and discovered that its origin was Jesper and Kristian who were bringing some stuff – including the much-needed candles, of which I had virtually none. Apparently it had been raining in full down in Abisko, while up at Tjäktja everything had come as snow, and it was still very bad when they departed for Sälka.

The gales continued in the evening, hitting without warning and reducing visibility to zero, and the average wind was pretty nasty as well. The weather report offered no hope of improvement, and indeed conditions deteriorated further after I had gone to bed.

Tuesday 26/2

The nightly winds were the worst yet, with strengths well in excess of 15 m/s, and in the morning I had to throw myself against the outer door to push it through the drift that had formed outside. By then the wind had decreased, however, even though the gusts were still forceful. After breakfast I shovelled my way about, but since the wind was still blowing I left the drift-covered stairway up to the entrance of the main cottage for the time being. Visibility was improving, however, and there was even a bit of blue sky and sun. Before lunch I attacked the stairs, digging deep, and it took some time to get it right what with all the snow already piled up.

Main cottage

Blocked

Big cloud

Some sun

Cleared

All the fresh snow had covered much of the rocks that were previously showing on the slopes, which made the one leading up Lulip Muorahisčohkka more attractive as a telemark target, so I decided I would try it out. I made my way up towards the opening in the cliffs, keeping to the sides as much as possible so as not to mar the downhill runs. Higher up the snow was loose, and the top of the slope, above the route I had previously utilized, looked loaded enough to be dangerous. I therefore went out towards the rocky side, where I changed into downhill mode. Visibility was shifting, but directly overhead it was almost clear, so there was some contrast.

The first turns were a bit tricky in the somewhat uneven drifts, but it was better further down. I turned up again immediately, soon following mostly the same route, and after waiting for the mists to part I went down again. This time it was better – partly because I had gotten into it more – with some parts even excellent. Before the next ascent I spotted something down in the valley, and once I had a higher vantage point I could ascertain that it was four people coming up from Alisvággi. The third time down was through-and-through terrific, and it was a happy telemarker that returned to the cottages in time to greet the approaching folk.

Going up

Snowy mountain

Misty

These turned out to be French, and one of them spoke a bit of Swedish due to residing in Stockholm, but I took the chance to practice my French. The weather seemed to be improving at first, but then things clammed shut again. Later in the evening I answered a dinner invitation and spent quite some time eating and speaking with the French, mostly in French, although shoddily at times. Outside the wind was howling around the corners, and even though the sky was mostly overcast visibility was quite good – or would have been, had it not been dark.

Wednesday 27/2

It was still windy in the morning, but it was slowly growing less so. One of the four knocked on my door seeking advice on how (and indeed if) to proceed given current conditions; they were aiming for Sälka, or even Singi. In the end they decided to leave, in a steady snowfall, and I suggested that they stop for breath in the Pass and reevaluate there – if you're to turn back, that's the point to do it, because once you're down in Čeakčavággi it would be easier to continue to Sälka than to climb back up, even if it's longer. After another bout of shovelling I put on the largest cauldron I could find and fired up the heater in the room next to mine, intending to use it as a drying room for my soon-to-be-washed clothes.

While the drying was in progress I went out to replenish the firewood supply thereby consumed, and it was not too nice working against the wind. Later I spotted people coming from the north, so I went back out to dig through the newly formed drifts. These people were a German man-and-son, of which the elder spoke a bit of Swedish, who had tented for two nights and were now in dire need of drying facilities. The snowing and blowing went on through the afternoon, and the paths were getting blocked again. When I went to check on the Germans in the evening I learnt that they had decided to stay for two nights to really get everything dry, and since I was planning on going to Sälka the next day – Gunilla, one of the wardens there, was turning 70 and had invited everyone who would be able to make it – they paid for both nights at once. Back in my cottage I packed as much as I could for the aforementioned trip, and the evening forecast did not set too bad a stage for it.