Thursday 8/7 – Wednesday 14/7

Thursday 8/7

I had a slow morning the weather of which was cloudy, but as it went by the sun came out more and more. I started another baking session during which the wind brought a passing shower. This time I used the oven rather than the frying pan, and I think I was a bit too careful with the time; the rolls could have gotten some more. I had a warm one straight away for lunch, and it was by no means bad, just not quite as good as it might have been.

More rain came and I spent the time reading until I caught sight of a single person coming along the Norwegian trail. I went out to meet her, for a woman it was, and we spoke a bit, but as the pouring rain was permeating the warden's jacket I switched to my own garments and took her up to the guest cottage instead. We talked for a long time while the rain continued, but eventually it stopped and things started to get lighter. Then I heard voices belonging to two other people that were just arriving; they had walked from Riksgränsen, and just like the German a couple of days earlier they had found the stage snowy and taxing. They brought a whole bunch of mosquitos with them, as walkers tend to do, so I quickly ushered them inside. Extensive shopping followed as did some more talking, and then I returned down to my place.

It comes!

I thought I heard thunder in the distance, and soon something dark and threatening appeared at Nuorjjovárri/1727, passing slowly over the mountains. I stood outside in the warm and still air, sensing a definite "calm before the storm" moment. It was indeed thunder that was on the way, in the form of a dense blue haze that completely hid the western fjelds. As it approached it was preceded by a strong wind that grew even stronger, and soon a very powerful rain literally struck, accompanied by cloud-to-earth lightning, but none closer than about 2 km off. It was really nasty, and when it was at its worst I could see the ground perhaps halfway to the border – everything else was swallowed up by the downpour – and the booms shook the building. As is the habit of such outbursts it did not maintain this level of intensity for long, and after a while there was only "normal" rain.

After dinner I went up to my guests (whee, guests!), and this time I did remember the letter; all three of them would be going to Alesjaure rather than Abiskojaure the next day, but there at least there would be people coming and going all the time, as opposed to the state of affairs in Unna Allakas. I found myself in another long conversation, and when I finally managed to tear myself loose it was just raining a little, and it felt lighter somehow. In the far west there was a band of blue sky, and it was slowly growing in my direction. When I was just about ready to turn in I saw two new people coming on the western trail, but they broke off just beyond the little tarn in which I had caught the fish, and after some apparent deliberation and scouting about they set about erecting a tent there. I couldn't imagine that it was very comfortable, but to each his own – and mine was a comfortable bed.

Friday 9/7

The next day started out warm, still and clear, but soon both clouds and wind started appearing. I considered going for another tour, but the necessity of clothes washing kept me at bay. When the couple had left I put on a large kettle of water, and while it heated I talked with the remaining woman, mostly concentrating on maps and the making of them (including, of course, my favorite subject: the Sámi names). It was now very fair outside, and I almost regretted my decision as I started washing on the bench beside the shower booth.

Seldom have I had such a great view for such a mundane activity, and looking at it I also saw that the campers had arisen, but made no move to strike their tent. Rinsing was not as cold an affair as it has previously been, since I could now use the not-so-cold water from the tap. There was a bit of wind, so the weather was perfect for drying, and I put up a clothesline between a corner of the warden's cottage (where there was a suitably placed nail) and the birch next to the swill disposal.

The woman was just about to depart, but lingered a while yet, loquacious as she was. Inside the guest cottage it smelt of smoldering embers, and the ash bucket was warm to hot; I was uncomfortable about this, and so took the bucket out to the large swill disposal on the corner and emptied it, and then poured several buckets of water over it all to be on the safe side. My own cottage was nice and cool, and after some quiet time I prepared for a lunch tour, since the weather showed no real signs of changing anytime soon. Just before noon I left, wearing the sandals.

Nice day...

...for washing?

To dry

North

I went round the mire behind the main cottage and then climbed the slope on soft heath and the like. I stopped on the rocky crest to look over the area in my binoculars, but as usual saw nothing. Then I continued eastwards onto another rocky rise from where I could not see the cottage, and there I sat down to eat. Just then a large cloud covered up the sun, but it returned a bit later. More aided observation revealed someone trying to negotiate the Ruovssokjohka fords, and from the looks of it he was not progressing quickly.

Myself I went on towards the next little tarn beneath yet another of the ubiquitous rock hills. A small brook from this tarn blocked the way, but I managed to locate a place where I could get across without getting my feet wet, and then I went on to the top of the hill. After enjoying the sun for a while I returned westwards, going across the large quarry site, and then went diagonally down to the passage where I could get past the last mire. There had been a large number of cloudberry flowers both upon this mire and up in the hills, and now they were starting to wane; since everything was a bit behind I would not be able to reap the fruits myself, but my successor would really have something to look forward to. I came down to the warden's cottage shortly after 13:45...

Flower up the slope

Cottage below the slope

Unna Allagas and the source tarn

More smaller tarns up there

Ruovssokjohka's ravine

Rádječohkat

Wider cottage view

Storsteinsfjell rising

At the next tarn

Yet another cottage view

Valley

A piece of Giron

...and at once met a single hiker coming from the other direction – clearly the one I had seen in the osier earlier. He was a German who spoke some Swedish, and he wanted to camp outside, so I sent him over to the grass patch. After tending to the drying laundry I walked over as well and talked about the present conditions of the route he had walked thus far – now switching to English, as he did not quite trust his Swedish faculties. I learnt that he had been forced to execute his tour no less than six weeks earlier than planned, which made for some snow-related difficulties; he had walked on the heights around Gorsavággi, which had their fair share of such.

After a visit to the shop I went inside and observed the campers finally pack up, and then I had an afternoon snack. A cloud front had come from the southwest, but the sun was shining through holes in it. Soon the campers walked by, and I went out to greet them. They were Poles, I think, and they asked about the trail to Riksgränsen; apparently they did not care too much for what they heard, for after shopping a little they started for Abisko. The front seemed to be passing mostly west of my location, and the sun came out again. I went back in and rested, dozing off slightly, and then another front came.

The German's tent
(inner section)

I saw two people on the trail to Norway, and after checking out the place where the others had camped they came up. They were two Swiss girls, as I later learnt, but especially one of them had a perfect American accent. They had come from Riksgränsen and agreed with their predecessors that it was rather tough at present. They were headed for Nikkaluokta eventually, and asked a bit about what alternatives they would have to get there, as well as probable conditions along the way and the timeframes involved. In the end they decided to tent beside the German man – the patch can easily support two tents, but any more requires careful cooperation.

Shortly thereafter this situation was brought to the fore: a man with a dog came from Alesjaure, and he intended to tent as well. I therefore suggested to him a smaller flat patch among the rocks immediately behind my cottage which I had considered a "reserve"; it had a campfire stone ring upon it, but that did not seem to have been used much (or even recently), so it was just a matter of moving the stones. Having sorted out that I made some decisions regarding my food plans, and then had dinner.

The clouds had grown both lower and more numerous, and now the first drops started falling, so I took in the laundry. I then talked with the latest arrival up in the guest cottage, and found out that "maybe two more are coming, but at least one". Those drops had been all, and now there was a bit of weak sun outside, but around Nuorjjovárri/1727 large clouds were floating. After a while that "one" did arrive; it was an older Swedish lady who walked slowly, and after she had come inside and shopped I talked with her and the other man. Now it had actually started to rain, and suddenly that other potential guest turned from possible to actual as an older man stepped inside. He too wanted to know about the condition of the trail to Riksgränsen as he intended to walk it later, but before doing so he would spend about a week in Norway.

Re-cloudy

Spare patch

When I went back down to my place it was no longer raining, but the clouds were low and there was a haze in the west. Said haze soon came closer in the form of more rain, and I was content to read inside. Later in the evening two people knocked on my door, having walked from Abiskojaure with a curious detour up around the eastern end of Hoiganvággi. Those were the last to arrive, though, and I could relax for what remained of the evening. Outside it was raining in full, but the clouds were lifting somewhat when I went to bed at 22. Having lain for no longer than one and a half hours, there was a knock on the door, and looking out the window I saw an approaching ATV. It was two Sámi reindeer herders and a dog who wished to rest for (the rest of) the night, and I instructed them where they (and the dog) could do so. It was now clearing from the west, and the familiar night light was present upon the peaks. Back in bed I had to hunt down a very irritating mosquito before I could finally go to sleep.

Saturday 10/7

Clearly this night was not to be one of undisturbed rest in any way, for I had to go up at 3 for the usual reason. However, in so doing I was treated to a serenely pleasant world of perpetual light, with smoke on the water. To top things off the sun was just rising, and the whole scene was just delightful – albeit chilly.

I got up after 7 the next time, and walked over to the dog-man since he had requested to be woken up early if he had not already arisen. This he had, so I went up to check out the ATVs – and just then the Sámi came out, ready to leave. With that I went back to bed and lay until 8-ish, and then had breakfast. It was now growing overcast from the southwest, and the sun had disappeared. After a shopping session I was alerted to the fact that the water had waned again, so I retrieved "the set" and went up to check, pulling the hose upwards as I climbed so as to get more leeway in anchoring the end. As expected the intake was floating at the surface, and now I tried to fasten it under a branch of an osier bush that grew just at the edge of the water, and after pumping I secured it with rocks.

Mornin'

From the crest

Soon the younger man left with his dog; he had been considering going up to Katterat, but since he had just heard from the older man that the trains on the Norwegian side were cancelled due to construction work he now aimed for Beisfjord instead. I went over to the German, who was preparing coffee sitting in his tent to escape the increasingly annoying mosquitos, and talked with him for a while. Later on he and the latecomers were the only ones who remained, and the latter had decided to stay for another night. Just as the German packed up a rain came from the west, so I stayed indoors myself.

I continued to take it easy in the afternoon, with the book and the radio, and just after I had finished my habitual tea a trio came slowly from Norway. These were three Danish women who were rather tired from the dreary weather, and they announced their intention to stay two nights at once. There was also a new man sitting inside; he had arrived from Alesjaure a short time ago with his daughter, who was currently resting in one of the bedrooms. I talked about maps, trails and trains with him, and now the sun was starting to show a bit from time to time, but it was very windy.

Worse

Better

After dinner I spotted a single man coming down the Alesjaure trail, and went out to meet him. This was also a German (how strange!) who had taken a higher route free of the trails, but thereby also subjected himself to quite a lot of snow. He was aiming for Abisko, and since he wanted to reach it the next day he went on. I went inside the main cottage and talked with the guests who were not moving on, and after a while I saw two people without packs but with a dog coming down the southwestern slope, and guessed that they were Sámi from the cabin up by the falls.

In this I was correct; they had lost contact with the ATV drivers who had spent the night, and were now searching for a signal. After relieving my discount corner of some content they went out again, heading up towards Snárapláhku. It was cloudier again, with no sky showing, and the ceiling was low at Rádječohkat. As I returned to my cottage to read it started to rain anew, and it kept at it intermittently during the evening. The bronze game between Uruguay and Germany was on, so I followed that to its conclusion, and now I had to turn on the heater for the first time in several days since it was getting quite cold.

Sunday 11/7

There was no rain when I woke up, but there was a fair bit of clouds as well as wind. In the middle of my breakfast two French people who had spent the night in a tent wanted to shop, so I asked them to wait until I had finished. The three Danish women were using their day of rest for laundry; the other two who had stayed behind had already left, and the father/daughter pair were soon about to do so. A bit later I was informed that the large broom was broken, so I went to see what could be done about it. The old broom head was unusable, so I put on a new one, but I had trouble finding nails of the appropriate size to secure it, and ended up extracting some from wire holders.

The clouds were breaking up starting in the east, and standing on the rocks behind the warden's cottage I saw that not only was the eastern valley bathed in sunlight, but the sky seemed clear around Abisko. This all took its time reaching us at the border, and I was not quite feeling like going somewhere far. After lunch it was growing clear for real, and I stood against the wall in full sunlight. The wind was also decreasing, and now I could hold off no longer, but set out on an afternoon walk at 13:15.

I walked the little path between the tarns immediately below, and after passing the first ones I turned right. There I passed beside/beneath some overhanging white cliffs, which I for some reason had failed to note before despite looking straight at them many a time from higher up. I then turned towards Ruovssuk, passing over some very cute babbling brooks, and making an arc around a wet mire. I proceeded up onto a small hill, looking at flowers on the way, and now things were very fair all around. I rounded a little tarn and started up the next, larger hill which consisted of more light cliffs, but this one also had a bit of trees growing on the sides. Here there were more flowers, and it was now warm enough that I had to remove my jacket. I walked along the length of the ridge to the eastern end, where I stood still for a long time looking out over the valley and the fjelds in the distance; Godučohkka was just emerging from the few remaining clouds to the (south)east.

Summery view

The white cliff

Passing beneath the aforementioned white cliff

Widened stream

The larger ridge

Small flowers

Going up (notice mosquitos)

The Goržžijohka falls

More little flowers

Panorama over Abiskoalperna and the nearer rises

Norwegian fjelds

It was getting windy again, so the jacket went back on, and then I made my way down the northeastern side and came onto the path leading up beside Ruovssokjohka. After passing the little ford on the way back I noted that both the snowfields that had been there earlier were gone or almost gone, but the ground was still wet as a memory. There were some mosquitos about, too, but the wind helped deal with those. Before coming within eyeshot of my cottage I left the trail and ascended yet another rocky hill to my right, and then found a steep but passable way down the other side to the tarn I had passed at the start. After crossing a wet portion I was back at the trail, and the final bit before arriving around 15 things felt both very warm and very summery.

Abiskoalperna again

Grass and bushes

In sight

Points

I walked over to the place where the Poles had put up their tent before, and found it to be just as bumpy (and mosquito-ridden) as presumed. I checked out the guest cottage, finding the trio and no one else, and then had a nice and warm shower. I sat on the bench for a while; it was beautiful and all that, but the mosquitos were a concern, and what weak gusts of air there were did not suffice to keep them at bay. After spending some cool time inside I went out again and walked around in the splendid afternoon, speaking some with my guests, and then set about making a pizza using the gas oven. The finished thing looked excellent, and just as I took it outside for eating one of the Danes walked by, and her reaction was one of mild astonishment. I sat down against the western wall, and the pizza was just as good as it looked; there were some mosquitos about, but I managed alright.

From the tent spot (more or less)

One-time fire

Back again

Did someone order a pizza?

I sat still in the warmth for a while longer, and then went up to the contrariwise cool shop to service my guests. The sky held only light, high clouds, and nothing else seemed to be on the way either. I tried reading outside, but since there was virtually no wind the mosquitos were relentless, so I had to give up and relocate indoors. I was then asked to provide some advice regarding the Danes' continued route; they were especially concerned about the Ruovssokjohka fords, and I spoke about the Abiskojaure trail in as much detail as I could muster.

Now the sun was partially veiled by plumes of thin clouds stretching across the sky, and the wind had turned for the second time of the day. The WC final between Holland and Spain had just started, and I let the Norwegians guide me through it while I munched on some popcorn. As is often the case it was a draw after full time, and I listened to the extension in bed; this time it did not go to penalties, for Spain managed to score and thereby won the whole shebang. There were quite a few high clouds and the light on the peaks had faded; the wind had shifted once again and was also increasing as I lay down to sleep around 23:15.

Monday 12/7

When I got up it was mostly cloudy again, with a lower base in Norway, and it was both windy and warm. The trio had decided to go to Abiskojaure rather than Alesjaure, and after I had finished my morning business I watched their progress from the rocks behind my cottage, being subjected to quite a bit of wind. The clouds were breaking up, allowing the sun to shine through now and then, but a large and very dark cloud was approaching Storsteinsfjell. I scouted some more from my vantage point, and now I saw the trio head into the osier and start to make preparations for water crossing (or so I guessed). I also saw something else moving upstream, and that something resolved into two other people coming my way. When they were almost upon me the others were finally reached the far edge of the osier, so I assumed that they had managed the fords well, and I turned my attention to the new arrivals.

These were a German man with his young daughter, and neither spoke very good English. They had walked from Katterjåkk, and it was no surprise that they described the route as "very snowy"; also, their summary of the Valfojåkka ford was "difficult with thigh-deep and swift water". Hmm. After pausing for a short while inside the guest cottage they went on towards Norway, and I myself now resolved not to do something like that. This turned out to be a good decision, for soon a haze formed around Nuorjjovárri/1727, which developed into a light rain that passed overhead. It was followed by denser mists and rainfall, and I stayed inside looking at it.

In the afternoon the clouds had descended considerably, and especially to the east and northeast they were very low. After chasing down some mosquitos that had slipped inside I lay down to read, and outside the rain continued. Later on a German woman came from Riksgränsen, and was soon joined by her companion; she also notified me that there would probably be another two people coming soon. Those did indeed arrive while we were in the shop, and they were Germans as well, but one of them spoke Swedish (and might even have been Swedish originally).

Shortly after a belated afternoon tea a single Swedish woman walked straight into my cottage, and I gently checked her lest I get the place full of mosquitos. I stood in the door talking to her for a while, waving frantically at the insects that were infallibly brought; she had walked from Låktatjåkka to Katterjokk and then here, and had found this route snowy, free of mosquitos, and including some tricky fords. She had not decided whether to stay or not, but she would at least be using the cottage to make dinner, so I went up with her. The clouds were now being drawn apart, and a weak sun was shining. I talked some about the nearby trails as well as suitable routes and objectives with the new woman, and this all ended with her deciding to tent outside for the night.

I had pancakes for dinner, following which the clouds were really moving off, at least in part; they were still low on the other side of the border. I read some in the guidebook and then spoke with the tent-woman before she hit the shower (which was not as warm as it had recently been). The clouds turned out to be persistent, but there was some sun as well during the evening, and I had the feeling that on the whole it was getting better. The wind was increasing, however, and by the time of my evening snack it was actually quite bad. The worst was yet to come, and soon hard gales started hitting, but it was still fairly warm. The clouds had now shrunk enough to let a weak evening light through to the Norwegian peaks, which were themselves showing, and when I settled down next to an apparently drafty window around 22:15 the wind had started to abate somewhat.

Tuesday 13/7

The next day started out cloudy, with some raindrops in the westerly wind. All the Germans were up when I went to give my morning report, and then I did some warden tasks here and there. I was of a mind to start cleaning the windows, and after locating what I needed for that I went ahead with the outer panes. While I was at it a group of four Danes whom I had heard talk of earlier came by, but they only stopped briefly before going on to Norway. I went around the house, and when I was at the western side a single woman came down the Alesjaure trail, having spent the night in a tent up at Allagasjávri. After a visit to the shop she also carried on westwards, aiming to latch onto Nordkalottleden further south, and the Germans were leaving as well. Having finished up outside I continued inside, but found it somewhat difficult because the frames were so worn; the paint came off in flakes. It was not until then that the other tent-person got up and went inside to prepare what would have to be termed lunch. I chatted some with her as I continued around the house, and then went down to make my own midday meal.

Rough-legged buzzard

Clouds caressing Storsteinsfjell

The weather was getting better, with the Norwegian peaks appearing more and more, and soon weak sunlight started effecting some warmth as well. I did the last few panes while the other woman packed, and then she left for Abiskojaure. I went on to clean the windows of the warden's cottage, which was very necessary, and the results were immediately apparent. Now things were looking gloomy again, and later in the afternoon more rain came. I spent the time reading and listening to the radio, and all the while outside conditons deteriorated. In the pouring rain just after dinner a single woman came from Abiskojaure, and soon she was followed by two Germans. I talked a bit about what I knew of the Alesjaure trail with the Swedish woman up in the guest cottage, and I noted that the Germans seemed to have high culinary standards – at least they carried more fresh things than people normally do.

Back down I did some crosswords and sudoku, and then returned to the book while the mist grew outside. Around 21 two Swedes arrived from Alesjaure, and after seeing them in there was more talk of trails, and tenting. Since the other Swede now had fresh sources of information for her next stage she took over the conversation, and I went down to have my evening snack. The rain was down to a light drizzle, but the clouds were very low. The interior of my cottage was warm and comfy, however, as was the bed which I entered before 22:15.

Low!

Wednesday 14/7

The night was rainy, and the morning even more so, and the low clouds remained. After giving the morning report I rearranged some stuff in the shop, which yielded a bit more space, and then I relaxed with the radio. I still had some window cleaning to do, so I went to take care of that. The Swedish woman had already left, and the rest were in the process of doing so, but just as I was done another guy came from Katterjokk; he was clearly foreign, but spoke good Swedish, and now he wanted to camp outside. The rain had stopped, but the clouds were as low as ever, and after speaking some with my new guest I went out for a fishing tour at 11:15, wearing the rain trousers to protect against the wet bushes.

I took the "tarn path", which was rather wet, and then started fishing along the far side of the elongated tarn behind the closest one. I made my way over to its western bay, which was rather shallow, but walking around it I found deeper (and calmer) water. After a while I continued northwards, passing a tarn that I judged too small, and then turned east. I came to a larger one, but the closest bay was also too shallow, so I continued along the southern side, casting as I went. Now the wind was appreciable, but at least it was mostly lateral. At 12:15 I sat down in the shelter of some rocks to have lunch; light rain had been falling on and off so far, but now it had stopped entirely, although the clouds were still low.

Across the pond

Still low

I crossed the stony outflow of the tarn and rounded another shallow bay, after which I could cast from a low cliff. The wind was increasing, and clouds were drifting almost at ground level. I continued around the tarn, eventually coming back to the first bay, and I found that it was deeper at one side, so I remained there for a while – I also had the wind at my back, so casting was no problem. While sorting out a line tangle a helicopter appeared, flying very low from the east, and when it was above the cottage it turned around; I also saw that that had the effect of driving a reindeer herd up in the slope behind it westwards, which was likely the intent.

After a few more casts I followed the little path I had walked when going up Ruovssuk, and then turned towards the little tarn in which I had gotten the last fish. I placed myself in the same position and started casting against the wind – and almost at once felt a strong yank at the other end of the line. This fish was larger than the previous one, and I worked against it for a while before being able to pull it up. I estimated its length to about 45 cm, and I was actually quite lucky to have gotten it up, because it had bitten very shallowly on the hook. During it all I had observed a new fellow walking up to the cottage, and while I was gutting the fish he walked out again, taking the Abiskojaure trail.

I returned up at 14 and found another guy inside the guest cottage; he was German and also spoke a bit of Swedish, but was more comfortable with English. Like the other one – who was Polish – he was to camp outside, and I also found out that that fellow I had seen a short while earlier had eaten lunch inside, left for Abiskojaure, come back to ask about where the actual trail went in all the osier around Ruovssokjohka, and then left again for a second attempt. Soon the man who had been on a circuit in Norway came back, and he said that there were more coming behind him. He also informed me of the state of some of the Norwegian trails, including the loss of the bridge over Smáilejohka on the trail south of Čunojohka and a difficult nearby ford.

Some time later the other two Swedes who had stayed two nights earlier also returned, but after I had talked to them for a bit they decided to go on towards Alesjaure, even though it was already the middle of the afternoon. There were two more people coming from the west as well, taking their time, and they were not to stay either; it was two young Danes who asked some questions about the Katterjokk trail, and after a pause and a shop visit they went on.

The weather was deteriorating again, with more drifting clouds and drops in the wind, and it was starting to feel unpleasant outside. I found a ginormous frying pan in the guest cottage, which I took down to prepare the fish in, but it was too early to start dinner yet. I saw two people coming down the southern slope, and looking in the other direction with my binoculars I spotted three more around the Ruovssokjohka fords. The duo turned out to be the same two Swedes who had left earlier; they had been caught in rain up at the start of Snárapláhku and decided that going back would be preferable to pressing on. Then it was time to have fish, and even though the pan was indeed large it barely fit in it. Towards the end of the meal those three people I had seen earlier arrived, consisting of a single Swede and a pair of Germans, not associated with one another. I could only finish about two fifths of the fish, so I saved the rest for the coming days, and after awkwardly managing to wash up the pan I went up to tend to my new guests.

They wanted to shop, as most people did, and since this resulted in some items' running out I moved some stuff around. Visibility was slowly improving, and later in the evening I suddenly saw an elk with two calves going down into the water in the far bay of the longer nearby tarn. The mother was evidently eating the plants that grew on the bottom, sticking its head down under the surface for long periods at a time, but the calves soon tired of it and wandered off. I went back up with the frying pan and tipped the others off about the display of wildlife. Closer by a man walked past without stopping; the Swedish couple knew him from their stay in Norway, and according to them he was a Strider, so to speak. I took it easy down in my own cottage, letting the heater ward off the chill, and then turned in at around the usual time.