Wednesday 23/6 – part one

I slept pretty well, being awoken by someone's mobile phone at an early hour, but said someone never arose. I stayed in bed too, arising after 07:15 to more rain blowing against the window. It was light and the sky showed between the heavy clouds, and during breakfast there was some sun-rain, followed by improving conditions. I packed up and talked with Ulla, Curt and the girls, who were also about to leave. The weather looked promising, and I chose to walk in light clothes, despite the not too warm temperatures.

It was a bit chilly at first, but I quickly got warm enough. The first part of the trail to Unna Allakas was very wet, with sizeable "lakes" on the path, and I had to take to the low thickets on the side. The terrain consisted of small wooded hills, with the occasional mire allowing for a limited view across the valley. At Boazojohka, which constitutes the border to the national park, there were clear traces of the spring flood, which had nearly broken the little bridge; only one loose board remained of the walking surface, but it gave no problem.

Immediately on the other side were some nice but somewhat bumpy meadows, but they only lasted for a moment before it was back to forest. On another mire ATV tracks joined up from below, and then climbed up a dry slope to a rocky hilltop beneath Huvkim. On its crest appeared an unexpected building of small make, and I was now beginning to doubt whether I was actually in the right place, for the map showed neither house nor slope in the trail's path. The view was good, at least, and looking back I saw a shower-in-progress over Njunesgeahči.

I continued to follow the ATV track, which soon turned down the slope again, and eventually it came back to the trail at the start of a series of long duckboards, putting an end to the little detour. My hands were getting cold, and touches of the nearby rain were beginning to catch me. The distance to the next bridge – the one over Hoiganjohka – felt a bit long, and after crossing it I very consciously stuck to the smaller footpath rather than the ATV tracks, going down a short slope to another short stretch of meadows followed by wetter ground.

Godučohkka just visible through Gárddenvággi

Gárddenvárri across Gamaeatnu

Traces of the spring flood...

...along Boazojohka

Nice meadow

The fortress of Giron

Miesákčohkka peek

Hoiganjohka bridge

Soon I spotted the first buildings of the Rovvidievvá Sámi encampment, which was especially easy seeing as how they sported a burning light. I also spotted a person there, and overall the encampment felt inhabited as I walked through it, even though I did not actually see more than a few people. After catching sight of an owl in a tree ahead of me I noted that once again the ATV tracks split off from the path, and again I kept to the latter. From there on the land felt more or less untrodden, and where the trail ran close by Gamaeatnu below Vuolip Čahcaoaivi its condition was not the best, what with muddy ground and bushes having been broken by the spring flood. There I also found the first reindeer of the summer (or "summer"), which ran on ahead of me; some even dared to cross the stream.

The rain had now stopped again, and the clouds seemed on the verge of breaking apart, letting some weak but warming sunlight through; behind me the cloud base seemed slightly higher as well. I entertained the idea of stopping for lunch before Gamajávri, where the terrain was open, but in the end pressed on into the forest, going upwards to drier land. When the trail started descending again I did stop, sitting down in a small clearing to eat. As I did so the sun came out in part, and I had a pleasant break, but wanting to arrive as early as possible I did not remain seated for too long.

Passing through the...

...Rovvidievvá Sámi encampment

ATV tracks too

Owl

Lessening verdure

The first of many

Upon restarting the walk I did not remove the wind jacket which I had put on for the break – I knew that it would probably be a bit on the warm side the remaining distance through the forest, but after that I would be emerging onto open land, where I expected more wind. Immediately after coming down to the stream again I found a perfect campsite on one of the various small hills there, but as I had already had my break I moved on. I could now see a good deal of what lay ahead, with Ruovssuk in full view, and more of the peaks behind me were also emerging. Despite the map's insistence that I was still in the forest, the terrain consisted of mostly open heathland with just a few trees and copses. A shower was forming in the area around Sjangeli, and as anticipated a persistent wind made me glad to be wearing the jacket.

The bridge over Válffojohka was a curious construction necessitating a similarly curious style of walking across it, and shortly thereafter I crossed a reindeer fence by way of a set of short but steep stairs. My hands were feeling cold again, and the shower ahead of me was spreading, giving off a small amount of drops borne on the westerly wind. In this wind I thought that I heard fractions of a voice, and upon looking over my shoulder some distance later I did observe someone half hidden behind a rock, but that was the only time I had any indication of other hikers.

Something had been tugging at my mind for some time, and I slowly began to realize on a conscious level what it was: the further west I got, the less leaves there were on the trees and bushes, eventually approaching zero. The rainfall in front of me was dissipating, but to the east the clouds were sinking again. Over the stream from Skáŋgalanjávri there had obviously been a duckboard-style bridge at some point, but now only the "shoreside" base remained. A path went off upstream, but finding the water uncomfortably deep I went downstream instead, cutting through mostly bare osier to a wider and more shallow place where I could get across without difficulty. This involved more osier thickets to negotiate, however, and it took a while to locate the path again, which I did just as it took to more duckboards across a long mire.

Nice campsite

Less colors

Looking back along the trail

Válffojohka bridge

Young one

Company

More of Abiskoalperna

Westwards

Miesákčohkka rising again

A bit later I saw an out-of-place something off to my right and went to investigate – this appeared to be a meteorological measurement station of some kind, but whether it is in actual use I don't know. I also spotted a ruin up on the crest of the slope to my right – this being marked on the map – and after some more tedious walking I finally came to Ruovssokjohka, which I knew from previous reports could sometimes be somewhat difficult to cross. This stream breaks up into several courses in an osier-covered area, and after searching for a while I managed to make my way across without having to resort to the sandals.

Again I had trouble finding the path in all the osier (in fact there were more than one), and after passing a grassy portion I came to another ford, but this one was broad and shallow and required no special treatment. After that came a couple of snowfields, and the ground was wet from those recently melted, and suddenly I caught sight of an eave some distance ahead. As I walked the last few hundred meters beside a series of small tarns which gave me a feeling of the Tuottar area, a weak sun broke through and shone upon me, and it was a somewhat worn wanderer who finally pulled in at the tiny warden's cottage of Unna Allakas shortly before 16:00.

A weather station of some kind

Nearing the last fords

Ruin on higher ground

Having crossed Ruovssokjohka

Rádječohkat ahead

The valley behind me

A bit of sun on the water

There at last!