Tuesday 12/9

I woke up at 06:45, and upon poking my nose outside I discovered that it was a good deal warmer than expected. There was also some wind, and the sky was a patchwork of light, clear sections and dark clouds; unfortunately the north, where I intended to go, looked worse. I had breakfast, during which a large blue hole in the cloud cover materialized above and then proceeded in a northward direction. I also noted a very small number of very small droplets that fell from the sky, but nothing came of it. When I was ready to leave well before 09:00, all visions of blue had taken their leave, but the grey overhead strata were still light.

Due to the mild climate I had chosen to wear only light clothes, hoping that the ever-present clouds would not drop rain on me. The sky light did not penetrate far into the forest, where the full reign of day had not yet been established – not that I had trouble seeing or anything, but I almost felt like an interloper in a sleeping world. The trail consisted of an old wagon track – perhaps motorized "wagons" nowadays – which came from the south, and going was very easy; the shelter of the trees combined with the warm air quickly made me glad of my clothing choice. After a while the trail began to run alongside Vindelälven, during a long section of lesser rapids, and when the trees opened up enough I could see the sun playing over Slieruotjåhkka and Vigŋjaltjåhkka further ahead.

Then a very light drizzle started, but it was nothing to worry about, and it soon stopped anyway. After passing the two adjacent bridges over Gilvenjuhka and the stream from Vigŋjaljávrrie it picked up again, and this time it kept at it. When I reached a few old and more or less desolate buildings shortly before the Vitnjul cabin the drizzle turned into actual rain, and a light wind came into being as well, so I half-ran the last few hundred meters to the red little structure. By then the cloud cover was quite dense and all-inclusive, and on the western side of the valley the white ceiling was rather low. Grateful for the shelter of the cabin, I had lunch inside after 11.

Feeble...

...morning...

...light

Downstream Vindelälven

Skrabmiejuhka flowing...

...into Vindelälven

The trail beside the river

Nice view upstream Vindelälven

Glimpses of the sun ahead

Lighter sky to the south

A "lay-by" at a calm portion of the river

Just above some rapids

Vindelälven and Slieruotjåhkka

Looking back

Slieruotjåhkka again

Some old...

...buildings

Slieruotjåhkka and the bridge seen from a crest shortly before...

...the Vitnjul cabin

After lunch the rain had passed on to the south, leaving the familiar light drizzle behind, and the low western clouds remained as well; it was lighter to the east, though. I continued to walk light, but now I had the wind jacket on for protection against the dampness, and I had also put on the rucksack's rain cover. I went down to take a look at the nearby bridge over Vindelälven first, and then I cut through the low vegetation back onto the northbound trail. The clouds seemed to be lifting somewhat, but the drizzle persisted, and the terrain was quite wet all around. It was still warm, however, but a light wind picked up as I went.

By the calm water at Vigŋjanjuönnie there was a ramshackle boat house, and upon inspecting it I startled a small group of ducks that flapped their way across the surface. I then proceeded over two very minor arms of a brook coming from up the eastern slope, and after the third, larger one I dumped my pack under a tree, put a few things into my pockets, and set about climbing said slope.

Slieruotjåhkka

Downstream

Two shots of the bridge...

...and Övre Vitnjulforsen

Path of colors

More colors

The boat house...

...and the escaping ducks

The vegetation was not too dense, and the incline moderate, so ascending was not particularly difficult. I mostly followed the course of the brook, coming upon a streak which was not actually a footpath, but where the surrounding plants seemed to have parted so as to open a passage of sorts. A bit further up I did come across a faint path, which I followed for a while before breaking off, aiming for a mostly bald hill which I thought would give good views of the valley. A drizzle had started, but from looking at the clouds both nearby and far away I judged that it would not carry on for long. The hilltop did lend some nice views, but my elevation above the valley floor was still not very high, so I decided to continue upwards, in a more northeastern direction.

This took me over a large mire and then through a large, tilted patch of (wet) bushes; as the crest I was heading for was rather sharply defined, and the sky beyond it actually showed a bit of blue, it felt as though I was on some kind of stairway to heaven – albeit one where the steps were very slippery. I stopped just above the tree line, from where the outlook was fabulous. As predicted the drizzle had stopped by then, and as I stood there the clouds lifted to the west, and then the ones at the nearby river bend followed suit.

Soon a faint sun broke through the grey-white blanket, and it grew stronger by the minute. I waited a while longer, munching on some blueberries that grew in abundance just where I stood, until the true colors of the land were brought out in full. Marvelous. The clouds hovering around Ammarfjället – and specifically Vigŋjatjåhkka – stubbornly refused to let go, however, and finally the sun itself surrendered as well. I saw this as a sign to go back, and started descending, taking a slightly different route at first, but following mostly the same one as I had done coming up after I passed the first hilltop.

Rain to the west

Frámaktjåhkka right above

Clearing to the west...

...and over the bend

Vigŋjaltjåhkka...

...in the sun...

...like Vindelälven...

...and the valley to the west

Panorama of the 90°-turn of Vindelälven

Once back at my pack I took a brief pause involving chocolate, and resumed walking on the trail at 13:45. After the bend the view to the west opened up also down from the floor, and I could see that it was again raining further away in that direction, but at my location there were merely short bursts of droplets now and then. I also met a middle-aged man and what presumably was his adolescent son, with their two dogs – the first human (or canine) beings I had come across since leaving Ammarnäsgården. The trail passed through some high, wet grass, which is bad for keeping legs dry, and I did my best to clear a passage with my walking stick.

Another bout of light drizzle followed, and then I reached the slippery bridge over Frámakjuhka. On the other side I turned up the slope, climbing with difficulty and considerable exertion, heading for a renovated Sámi hut (Framakkåtan) the map placed just below the tree line. The steep incline and slippery ground made it feel much longer than it was, and it was almost so that I started to wonder if the hut was indeed where it was supposed to be. Then it started to rain for real, but at that precise moment I spotted a grassy mound with a door and dashed for it, pressing through the narrow opening after 14:45.

Passing over mires...

...and through forest...

...beside the river...

...beneath Ammarfjället

Looking west through the valley

Framakkåtan at last

Inside of the hut

Waterfall in Frámakjuhka

I had not yet decided whether I would actually spend the night in the hut or pitch the tent somewhere nearby, but I was fully content with finding shelter from the rain as it was. The west was just a grey mass at first, but then the rain gradually petered out, and there were even a few glimpses of the sun. The far west still looked bad, though. I had some reindeer meat and set about fixing the water flask holder, which had broken just as I came in, as best I could. I realized that without conscious effort I had resolved to stay inside, so I changed out of my walking attire and started making myself comfortable. A patch of blue had appeared right above, letting the sun glint on Frámaktjåhkka for a short time before it shrank back into uniform greyness. While not exactly dissipating the clouds were, however, slowly lifting, revealing more of the surrounding terrain, and there was a bit of wind.

I made a bed along the wall where there was some "dry-but-damp" grass strewn out already, played some solitaire, and lay resting for a while. Visibility improved somewhat over Ammarfjället, but there was more of the drizzle, not surprisingly. I went on to prepare dinner, using the spill heat from the stove to help drying the thermal underwear shirt, which was more than a little moist. The weather kept oscillating between somewhat nice and outright depressing, always with a robust ceiling of cloud. I remained inside and begun one of them crosswords (available here, in Swedish), wrapped in the sleeping bag as a chill had started setting in.

Later on, when it had cleared to some extent again, I went outside to clean my spoon and fetch water, and then I followed a very faint footpath up onto the plateau above the hut, just where the trees ended. From there I had far-reaching views, and even though the peaks of Ammarfjället were wholly concealed the valley below seemed quite enclosed, and the feeling of alone-in-the-wilderness was very palpable. I returned to the hut and continued working on the crossword, and then rested some more. I read in my book until the light entering through the smoke hole grew too faint, and then I had my evening snack. It was perfectly calm outside, but it was cloudier again with the familiar droplets in the air. Finding nothing better to do, I entered the sleeping bag anew at around 20:30 and continued reading in artificial light for half an hour or so before tucking myself in properly for the night.

Smoke hole

Evening view west...

...and east