Sunday 3/1

As expected the room cooled down considerably during the night, and I spent the final parts of it curled up under the duvet so as not to shiver, for I was wholly uninterested in getting up to start another fire. When I eventually arose the time was just past 07:45, and after putting on quite a bit of clothing I went out to check the wind, finding it fairly OK after all. The temperature had risen further and was now merely –8°C, so I did not foresee any real problems for my journey. As I was preparing breakfast Bengt came into the kitchen to fire up the heater, but I ate in solitude. Outside there were shifts in wind, snowfall, drift and visibility, but in general I thought I could see a bit further than before. After giving away the last of the chèvre I went to pack up and clean, and brought in a box of firewood before leaving at 09:45.

By this time the wind seemed to have picked up a bit, and there was also more snow in the air. I had therefore decided to wear two layers of thermal underwear and the thicker cap and gloves, and I pulled the hood tight as a final touch. At first I faced the wind head-on, and visibility was rather low – at worst 1-2 trail markers ahead – which also meant that for the most part I could not make out where the (buried) track was, so going was somewhat arduous. As I rounded the first bend, however, the wind hit me at a more oblique angle, visibility improved and the track was easy to find. The weather was, however, of a shifting nature, and at times it was quite bad with sharp snow crystals whipping against my face – and at others mellow enough that I had to open up a bit. When I had passed Kroktjärnarna it took a turn for the worse, with heavy snowfall and stronger headwind, and now I was very glad for the extra insulating layer underneath my shell. At the trail split not much could be seen at all, and after a brief pause I was relieved to glide down into the forest.

Such a nice view

Smällhögarna peek

Slightly better

At the branch

After the first open areas things did indeed calm down, and all the trees provided a good deal of longed-for contrast, but it was still snowing heavily. The fresh snow on the ground was very nice to ski on/in, and whenever I missed the track it was obvious that it was fairly deep. At the next trail split I turned off onto the skiers-only branch, and immediately realized that everyone else had stuck to the snowmobile one. The snow was entirely untouched, so making tracks was rather heavy work, but when the summer path joined up it got a bit better. Further into the deep coniferous forest it was not bad at all, but on the other hand the wind was now a mere breeze, so my temperature was rising uncomfortably just the same. When I came to the hut ruin where I had had lunch the last time I came this way just before noon I decided to repeat the act, although this time I crept into the auxiliary structure to escape the snowfall, which was still going strong.

Whee, trees

Sparse

Denser

Untouched

I did not stay too long since I had a time to meet, but before setting off again I removed one layer from my upper body. It had stopped snowing and visibility had improved further, but almost immediately the snow got tougher again. When the trail soon emerged onto a large open space it got considerably better, believe it or not, and I picked up speed. Back in the forest I tried to stay out of the deepest parts, but when I came to the branch point where the summer trail breaks off to join the snowmobile trail I had just about had enough, and since there was also the matter of catching that bus I quickly resolved to break off myself as well. Following the path through the forest was an easy matter, both with regard to navigation and progress, even though at one time I had to make a judgement call as to which of two possible options to choose, but after a following downhill slope I gathered that both would have worked fine. Shortly thereafter I came upon the snowmobile trail, where I could ski freely.

At Stensån all the fresh snow and the lack of tracks made me wary about crossing the stream on the ice, since I could not see if there were open or weak spots, so I just went with the bridge instead. Another effect of the snow was that the ski tracks I was followed had been filled in, so I kept slipping off to the sides, which was annoying. It was not long before it started snowing again and I just moved along until I came to the next trail intersection, emerging onto a very fresh and very good ski track from Stensdalen. This track kept to the ski trail whereas the snowmobile trail seemed untouched, so this time the choice was easy.

A bit into the subsequent forest I met a couple of other skiers – the first of the day – but nothing else moved save the wind. For some time I had been feeling an ache in my Achilles tendons – not a regular sore – so I was growing weary of it all and just wanted to reach my destination. Just before the last little slope up onto the last field I met a reindeer-pulled sled, and said reindeer was pretty jumpy as I passed with great slowness and care. The time was 14:15 when I finally pulled in at the fjeld station, so I had about half an hour to spare – or so I thought.

The Stensån bridge

Not much of a view here either

Wintery feeling

I passed this half-hour by rearranging the pack somewhat, taking out things I would be needing next, and then just relaxing. But when the time came, the bus did not do so. It was past 15 when the first of two vehicles showed up, but since that was not a very large one I waited for the other one, seeing as how I had both a large pack and skis I very much wanted to bring with me. When the next car finally arrived it was no more than half an hour to the train's departure time, and I was infused with real worry that I might miss it, but as it turned out I could disembark at the Undersåker station just seconds before the signals sounded, and minutes later I was safely aboard heading for home.