Sunday 11/4 – Friday 16/4

Sunday 11/4

The day started out nice enough with only some veils stretching across the sky, and a complete lack of wind. During my morning reporting it was revealed that the single, far-travelling man had been in Stensdalen last easter, and also – for something completely different – that all members of the "stomach flu trio" were well, which was a relief; I have yet to suffer such an outbreak during a wardenship of mine. The sky was growing cloudier, obscuring the sun, but visibility was still good.

Some time after everyone had left, creating quite a line towards Nallo, I heard the sound of an approaching snowmobile. This time it was another rescue man, and we talked a bit before he returned downstream to go look for his companion, who had been delayed for some reason; after a while they both passed on up the valley. While I was tending to the garbage/recycling an airplane came out of Stuor Reaiddávággi and entered Unna Reaiddávággi, after which it took to circling several rounds at increasing altitudes. I made a serious attempt to remove residue from the incinerator, but it was so corroded that not only was this difficult, but much of the garbage was left unburnt as well. A haze was growing to the west, and by the time I had finished and could sit down for lunch it had spread in my direction.

Leaving group

Rescuer

Flyer

Soon thereafter it started snowing lightly, but it soon ceased and the clouds actually lifted a bit instead, although it was getting windy as if to compensate. While I was having afternoon tea a single man came from Alesjaure, and after a few moments I recognized him as one of the group who had entrusted some items to my care earlier. The rest soon arrived, and this time all of them would be sleeping indoors. The wind got a bit stronger, and since it was rather warm the snow was getting very soft again. Later in the evening the wind was harder still, but it was also fairly warm, and already it was perfectly evident that the snow cover was shrinking worryingly. The nightly chill never set in, and it was with some concern that I went to bed listening to the gales.

Monday 12/4

My trepidation was warranted, for when I went out in the early morning I found that the snow had sunk awfully during the night, and it was still warm, with the wind continuing its assault upon that which remained. Later in the morning the sun came out and the wind lessened, and everything would have been just dandy had not the ground started to show so much; seeing as how I had just covered a third of my period thus far, things did not exactly look promising. Soon enough Erik arrived from Nikkaluokta with the new Nallo warden (Sigrid) – which was a surprise seeing as how I had been told that she would arrive from Abisko, and not until noon, but plans can change quickly in the fjelds. Erik said that the track was still holding, but driving was beginning to get difficult.

He left one of the sleds he was pulling and continued up to Nallo with Sigrid, and I waited with the group inside – they were to be ferried down to Nikkaluokta when he returned. Soon he did just that, bringing Lena down, and I talked to her while loading up the extra sled with skis and whatnot. It turned out to be quite a heavy load in the end – plus the eight passengers, of course, and I wished them all luck as they set out in the slush. I considered going for a lunch tour myself, but the softness of the snow (it was +6°C, for the love of...) held me back, and I had my meal inside instead.

Shiny Njunni

Čeakčabákti under cloud

Siehtagas again

The last I saw of Erik

Just as I finished up the two Swedish-Germans came back from Nallo, and since the cottage was empty at the moment they could reclaim their previous beds. A bit later everything started to whiten starting in the northwest, and soon drops of rain (ugh!) started falling. The temperature was also falling, but the rain just increased, and there were hard gusts of wind as well. The late afternoon saw the arrival of a group of ten from Alesjaure, and I allotted them one (1) cottage-half.

Feeling tired I lay down to rest, and even dozed off a bit. The rain was now partially mixed with snow, and it was colder again. Then a group of four came from the direction of Nallo, and as it turned out the leader of this group was the Pavel to whom that mysterious bag belonged, arriving one day behind of schedule. He was the only one who spoke English; they were a Russian group who were out on a tenting tour, scouting the area for future expeditions, and were very interested in the weather forcast – and especially whether or not the temperature was going to drop below zero again. It was now snowing quite a lot, but it was wet and did not add to the ground cover.

The large group had invited me to dinner – elk, again – and I had a fine meal with much talk with them; apparently this was the 18^th year they were out doing this. It was not until bedtime that the clouds started to lift, but the wind was getting stronger. The snow was still soft and difficult to walk across, but at least the temperature was on the negative side of the scale as I lay down, and the gales kept the sandman away for some time yet.

The Russians' tent

Tuesday 13/4

When I awoke for the third time it was both snowy and windy, and the flakes were actually amassing on the ground rather than just wetting it. The large group left fairly early, and shortly thereafter Pavel came up to get the latest news about the weather; from what the radio had told me there was going to be temperatures below zero the coming days, which he was very happy about. We also spoke a bit about possible routes and their (probable) condition; they still had quite a bit of time to play with, and so could use alternatives.

After they had left the two Germans were also on their way out, aiming for the slopes above the cottage, to see what if anything could be done with those. I watched them make their way up through the forest, and it looked very taxing in the impossible snow. Despite that, however, I prepared for a similar outing myself; having been immobile for two days I felt that I needed to do something. The wind was somewhat lessened, but it now came in gusts, and flakes were whirling in the air on and off. Just before I left at 11 I observed a police helicopter flying into Stuor Reaiddávággi, which made me suspect that something had happened in Nallo.

I opted for the telemark skis and followed the track the others had so kindly made for me, which was rather deep at times. When I regained a visual on Visttasjohka I saw four people coming down on the ice, but nothing else – not the two Germans either. I followed the main track eastwards; oftentimes the snow cover was thin or missing, but I managed alright. I proceeded to climb up above the uppermost trees, defeating an icy crest. Up there were a large number of reindeer, as there were large bare areas for them to feed upon. I went on until I had to carry the skis to reach more snow, where I started looking for a suitable place to sit down for lunch. Soon I found an appropriate rock, but as the snow in front of it was very deep I had to dig out a well of sorts before commencing the midday break at, well, midday.

On the shelf

White in Stuor Reaiddávággi

There had been a good deal of wind, but the little rock protected me beautifully, and even though a bout of snow hit I was pretty comfortable. At first I saw no movement down in the valley, but a bit later on I observed the four people I had seen earlier go up the slope into Stuor Reaiddávággi. After about half an hour I went back to where I had left the skis and put them on, and before going on I spotted the other two across the naked heath.

I started the descent in the vicinity of where I had come down earlier, and at least one portion was reasonably OK. I did have a fall, however, and the consistency of the snow made it both difficult and time-consuming to get up again. The surface was hard, but not enough to carry my weight, and I frequently found that the baskets of my poles got stuck, or worse, that my feet came to a sudden stop, throwing the rest of me forward. After I had passed the first of the trees things got slightly better, and I did my best to follow the older tracks. The last bit down was every bit as insufferable as before – nothing at all worked. Having finally reached the stream around 13:30 I found that it looked near to cracking open, but it still held as I skied back to the cottages in another snowfall.

Bare

Weak light

More bareness

Gradually better visibility...

...in Stuor Reaiddávággi

Above the cottages

The place was empty, but I could see a group of people making their way down out of Stuor Reaiddávággi. They took quite some time to complete the descent, making long, shallow turns interspersed with tumbles, and in the end two of them carried their skies down. This gave me time to wash, especially since the group sat themselves down at the foot of the slope for a break, and in the meantime the Swedish-Germans came back as well. Finally all six of them arrived, and these turned out to be the same people who had come by snowmobile a few days before, but they were missing one – he had started feeling dizzy, and suspecting heart problems they had called for extraction, which was what the helicopter had been about. Since this meant that they had only covered 9 kilometers this day, they were eager to do something, and a couple of them started digging out a path to the privy; the soft snow was starting to make safe walking tricky. I invented some tasks for the rest of them, and then went inside to talk a bit.

Breakthrough

Winged beast

Suddenly I noticed that the signal light on the antenna of the assistance phone was flashing, and I put through a call to the police to see what was up. They gave me a message from Erik saying that "we can't come get people tomorrow; we can't drive on the ice" – this was directed at the two Swedish-Germans, who had ordered transport from Lisa's the next day, and I went to relate the unfortunate news. The weather was improving somewhat, and there was a nice light in Stuor Reaiddávággi. After dinner it got markedly colder, and the clouds continued to lift. It was windy, though, and I spent some time reading and resting in my room. I then went over to the group, who were in a merry mood, and I even got myself a brownie. As the evening snack approached outside conditions took a turn for the worse again, but thankfully it remained cold. That little excursion had apparently been more demanding than expected, for it was a rather tired warden who crawled into bed at 22.

More light

Fading light

Wednesday 14/4

Snow was falling when I woke up, but none had accumulated during the night. The group left at 8, and the Germans were in the process of packing for a long stage; going the 30 kilometers down to Nikkaluokta is by no means an insurmountable feat, but with alpine gear it is not something one opts for without thinking first (not that they had much of a choice under the circumstances). To add insult to injury the glue of their climbing skins had stuck to the skis, which certainly did not help. Soon after they had left two new skiers pulling large sleds came from the north; these were Swedes who had tented fairly close by, and now they decided to pause for a bit before going on towards Nallo. It was still snowing, but now the temperature was hovering around 0°C so it was somewhat wet, and a bit of weak sun was also showing.

After lunch I went for a short walk; it was comfortable outside, but the snow was growing soft again. I then started making some notes in the storage shed and brought up some goods to the shop, after which a single man with a dog came from Nikkaluokta; according to him the track was still good, but going had been slightly heaving due to the fresh, sticky snow. He came inside to have a snack before returning, and I joined him for a chat.

As I had my afternoon tea the clouds pulled shut again, and there was also a bit of wind; before long snow started whirling in the air as well. I rested with the radio and wrote some more notes inside, and then started dinner proceedings. Outside there was mist and snowfall in shifting quantities, and I stayed inside reading and listening to the radio, being alone in the cottage for the first time since my arrival. It was snowing more and more, and the wind kept at it, and both of these phenomena were still occurring when I went to bed at 22:00.

Thursday 15/4

I slept like a log, and when I opened my eyes it was still snowing, with a thin shroud on the ground. On the morning news I heard about the to-be-infamous ash cloud from Eyjafjallajökull, which was an interesting thing to follow during the subsequent days. I had collected enough dirty clothes to merit a laundry session, and since there was no one about I could commence one freely, using the smaller room in the lower cottage for drying. Getting this room warm enough took some time seeing as how the building was chilled through and through, and all the time the weather shifted between misty, snowy and sunny, but once I had hung everything up it was pretty nice.

I decided to make use of the "drying time" by way of baking bread, during which I observed a single person with a dog ski over the western crest, but rather than coming down to Vistas he held a high course towards the cliff hill, where I lost sight of him. While the dough rose I chopped a good deal of firewood to make up for my consumption, and then formed bread rolls. Another rising gave me time to have lunch, which I ate outside on the bench; it was rather nice and still, and there was even a bit of sun.

After tending to the drying laundry I started the last stage of the baking procedure. Visibility was slowly improving, but it was now growing overcast, and there was no wind. As I was checking on the fire I heard barking, and lots of it – and looking out I saw no less than six dogsleds approaching from the north. Strangely enough they did not slow down at all, but simply passed me by where I was standing, one after the other. The result of the bread-making seemed pleasing enough, and after doing some other things I sat down to an afternoon snack to confirm.

Down at the stream

The older cottage

Woodshed with Unna Visttasvággi in the background

Approaching dogsleds

It had started to snow again, but it did not last for too long. A bit later a snowmobile appeared on the Stuor Reaiddávággi crest, went off towards the cliff hill, and then came down to the cottages. This was another county administration man, and he inquired about a guest with a dog who had left Nallo in the morning; apparently he had forgotten his map. This surely referred to the human-canine pair I had seen earlier, and their last known heading indicated that their goal was Alesjaure, so that was where the driver headed as well. I rested with the radio before putting on some final logs in the lower cottage, where my laundry was drying nicely, and then it was time for dinner.

The evening came with more snow and low clouds, and I took it easy inside, again finding myself without guests. At one point when I looked out the window I saw some ptarmigans strutting about close by, and I followed one of them with the camera as it walked by. The snowfall increased in density, and it was all white for a while; the temperature was also dropping, so a shroud was once again forming. By then all my clothes were dry, so I brought everything up and left the fire to burn out. It was still snowing heavily and a wind was blowing – and I caught myself having a wintery feeling. This state of affairs continued until bedtime, with the only difference that it was getting a bit windier.

Friday 16/4

The ground was white in the morning, but not as much as expected. The wind was still blowing, and clouds battled with each other for the prerogative of determining my visual range. A bit later in the morning more of the sky became visible, but the wind just grew stronger, whipping up snow from the ground. Still, I judged conditions acceptable for an outing, but I waited for a bit to see what if anything was happening. When I finally left at 09:45 there was no visibility up Stuor Reaiddávággi, and the gales were strong indeed.

It was my hope that the recent snowfall and winds would have conspired to deposit some powder on higher ground, which is why I chose the telemark gear. I put the climbing skins on at once, since I would be going against the westerly wind, and even though that was considerable I thought it fine, so far. The route across the heath to the first slope was getting barer each day, but it still held, even though behind the trees at the foot of said slope it was worsening more rapidly.

I went up beside the steeper slope to the right, and found the snow to be really good there at least. After that there was a lot of drift on the snowmobile track, and my skis disappeared beneath the surface. The wind was getting worse, and the gales were a force to be reckoned with. Some sprigs were showing above the snow, but as of yet constituted no hurdle to progress. I went diagonally up towards the dragon's tail of Siehtagas, proceeding westwards along the steeper portions above. I came to the place where I had come up on my little ravine circuit, but since there was now a line of sprigs showing below I continued on for a bit, going up to where the snow ended and the rock took by. Here I removed the skins, which was somewhat tricky due to the inclination and the wind, but while I was at it the haze further inside the valley started to dissipate, and the sun came out for a few moments.

Vássačorru on the other side

Siehtagas on the same side

Drift

Not much of a view down...

...or up

No further

Reaiddáčohkka's towers

Better up the valley

Weak sun upon Reaiddáčohkka

More of Visttasvággi visible

I then turned downwards and started the descent; the snow was fairly good, but since there was virtually no contrast it was difficult to judge the slope and its condition. I went on until the slope levelled out, and then went back up diagonally towards the end of the tail, never bothering to put the climbing skins on. I proceeded around the corner, where I found a very nice little slope on the side of which I zigzagged my way up. Going down was as good as it had looked, and I immediately turned around for another go, this time climbing a little higher. Conditions up Visttasvággi were fairly good, but in the other direction the view was blocked by a plume of snow that rushed out from Stuor Reaiddávággi.

I went up for a third run, and now it had started to snow again also where I was, but there was also a bit of sunlight. I chose a fresh course, and this was the best one yet; after finishing the steeper section I allowed myself to glide towards the cliff hill, and when I reached the naked rocks I took off the skis and walked over to the large cairn. In its shelter I had lunch, finding the wind fairly weak, and even though this was a perfect vantage point for all avenues of approach I saw no movement whatsoever. The haze had started to lift in Stuor Reaiddávággi when I got going again, finding a good slope down to the familiar crest. That final slope was also rather good, but much too short, and shortly thereafter (at 13:00) I was back at Vistas.

Vássačorru again

Up Visttasvággi

Gale in transit

Short fun

Ice

The wind was still gusty, but at least the sun remained, and as the afternoon continued it got better still. It was only temporary, of course, for soon another dense haze came with more snow and wind, and it felt good being inside with the radio and afternoon tea. The weather wavered back and forth for the rest of the afternoon, but it was always pretty good above Vássačorru and to the southeast, so obviously it was the (north)western massifs that were harboring the worst of it. I did nothing but rest and listen to the radio, feeling sleepy, and then had dinner and dessert. By then the clouds had lifted once more, and there was a pretty light on. It was also rather chilly, and the strong wind sure helped with that. I had a calm evening – not with regard to the wind, of course – and when the clouds which had glued themselves to the peaks finally gave way I saw that a new moon was hanging just above the eastern part of Šielmmáčohkka.