Sunday 8/3 – Saturday 14/3

Sunday 8/3

I was awoken earlier than usual by the sound and shaking produced by the fishermen's chopping firewood – a clear drawback of having the woodshed in the same building as one's quarters – so I thought that I might just as well get up. It was snowing heavily and several centimeters' worth of fresh fluff had already accumulated. No more had I put my nose out to register this fact than one of the Austrians requested an early visit in the shop, but then I could settle down for breakfast.

Both the fishermen and the others left before or around 8, and after checking the rooms and sorting through some garbage I started sawing logs. The falling flakes were now rather huge, but they came sparsely enough that the lake – but nothing else – could be seen. I returned inside to read and fiddle a bit in the shop, and then I had lunch. The afternoon held very little in the way of noteworthy events, other than that the snowfall increased. After dinner I could hear that it was somewhat windy further off, but where I was it was but a ruffle in the air, and it was still snowing when I withdrew to bed at 22.

Monday 9/3

It was no longer snowing when I woke up, but the clouds were low. I had a calm breakfast while reading Utemagasinet, and then I put on a large kettle of water for washing purposes. While it heated I went to fetch more, and coming back I cleared the solar panel from accumulated snow, which at the time covered about a fourth of its area. Just as the water was about to boil I started a fire in the heater in my room, and then began washing clothes while at the same time tending to said fire. When I was done I hung everything up to dry, just managing to find space for it all, after which I went out to the woodshed to replace the wood I had just consumed, and was to consume.

Since the room was now much too warm to occupy I sat down out in the shop and continued to read, and it was not too long before I heard the sound of a rapidly approaching snowmobile. This was Sture who brought a box and the latest issue of Turist, and he also bought some more items on Ulla's behalf, settling the bill from last time. Now I had the opportunity of handing him a letter personally, and then he departed for Sitojaure with the rest of his load.

Almost immediately I went to check out the new box, only to find that it actually belonged to Berta who was to relieve Ulla later on, so it should obviously not have been unloaded in Aktse. I therefore called up Tobbe at once, who would attempt to reach Lars in Sitojaure so that Sture could swing by me on his way back, but this never came to pass. Instead I resealed the box and put it out into the cold as it contained fresh food, and then had lunch (still in the shop rather than in my room).

During the early afternoon I tended to the drying textiles, shifting and moving as necessary, and I also discovered – surprise, surprise – that some items (like chocolate bars) in the cupboards were on the verge of melting, so I rescued them into the chill of the shop. I had already stopped feeding the fire, and soon the temperature in the bed end of the room was endurable, so I relocated there to read, after a while moving down to the floor. For my afternoon snack I moved back out to the shop, but then it became possible to use the room fully. I made a spur-of-the-moment decision to throw together a cake, and immediately after it was done I started dinner. It was now snowing again, and I did nothing but read and rest, dozing off for a bit until it was snack time; I tried out the cake then and found it very good. For obvious reasons I had deactivated the gas heater in the morning, but I reactivated it before hitting the sack since it was getting colder again outside.

Tuesday 10/3

I awoke to another morning of very low clouds and a few flakes in the air, but the recent snowfall combined with the lack of wind had at least made the trees pretty. Having completed breakfast I went out to clear all paths, porches and suchlike, and then the clouds started to lift somewhat, but higher up the slope I could see the trees disappearing into mist still. Just the same I prepared for another telemark session, and left at 10.

The tracks remained clear enough, even though they bore heavy traces of reindeer activity in the beginning. Up among the birches it was a beautiful world of frost, but the higher I got the more the mist made itself known. I went up past the usual crest and then continued due west along the uppermost trees, stopping at a suitable rock to switch to downhill mode. From there I could see rather well downwards, but not in any other direction, and there was a very light wind blowing.

I started out gliding further to the west, but then turned back and once again hit a fantastic field of snow the quality of which was beyond awesome, and the run was unbelievably great. Also in among the trees things were good, and as usual I stopped when I reached the coniferous boundary and immediately returned up to the same rock. This time I went straight down, and again it was fabulous; I landed just above my last turnaround point, and utilized the same tracks to ascend once more. Third time around I went down the same route that I had found for my last run during my previous excursion, and when this brought me to a snow-covered rock at 12:15 I sat down for lunch.

Up I go

Down I look

Frosty...

...trees...

...in all...

...directions...

...higher up...

...overlooking...

...the valley...

...and the lakes...

...and the settlement

After the break I sought out the upward tracks and went back to the crest, where I remained standing for a while as the weather slowly improved. Another great run followed, and now I also found a somewhat better way through the forest. A more roundabout upward route brought me to the crest for the last time, and I descended close to the last place, hitting a number of older tracks further down. My thighs were now really starting to protest, so it was clear that this was in fact going to be the last run. I came onto the main track just where I had a habit of doing so, and went straight down from there, inadvertently scaring a reindeer as I whooshed past. When I drew near to the cottages I could smell smoke, and just after I made a graceful(?) stop at 14:00 a man came out from the upper cottage to welcome me, as it were. This man was Dan from Alaska, whom I knew from e-mail correspondence would be coming, and we had a brief chat before I locked myself in for a wash (and some extensive stretching).

Visibility...

...somewhat improved

When I was done I went up to find a Pole in conversation with Dan; he had attempted a Rapadalen entry but decided against it due to the deep snow (he had a sled), and now he just wanted to rest for a little bit before finding a nearby campsite. I joined in the talk for a while, and when the Pole left Dan went with me to the shop where we continued to speak about STF's cottages and telemarking. For a while it had seemed as though it was about to clear, but now the clouds held sway again, even though the peaks were free of them; it felt good having that sight restored after a number of days with nothing of the sort.

I read some Turist, and then some sounds outside alerted me to the arrival of dogsleds, right on schedule; this time Matti was joined by his partner Stina, and they brought five participants (and two shepherd dogs). While Dan followed the parking procedures with some interest I went up to light a fire in the dog room, and then dinnertime drew near. I finished the Turist issue and rested in the dusk, eventually going up to the dogsledders, who this time consisted of two Swedes, one German, one Frenchman and one Dutchman. Talk, candy and a business transaction followed, and when I returned down for my evening procedures it had started to snow lightly.

Wednesday 11/3

The morning was a nice one with both Tjahkkelij and Skierffe all in the clear, but further inside Rapadalen there was a large cloud simply lying at the bottom. This cloud soon started to shrink inwards, revealing parts of Bårdde, and after a short morning report to the dog people and a much longer conversation with Dan about trails and fjeld rescue, it started to clear for real and the sun came out. I therefore started preparing for a day tour, going over the map, and all the while things were improving outside – especially to the northwest. I spoke some more with one of the Swedes in the group and then with Dan, saying farewell. As I left after 10 a cloud bank off to the south which I had thought was retreating turned out actually to be approaching – and quickly, too.

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Shortly after my return the sun was swallowed by the cloud bank, but it remained clear above and behind Skierffe. I had afternoon tea and a fruit while listening to the radio, and just as the sun was about to descend behind Tjahkkelij the cloud bank shrank to nothing, triggering a complete breakdown of every obscuring element in the sky. After fetching some more water I started dinner, and ate hungrily.

In a very pretty dusk a single man with a sled came across the field from the west, and I met him outside with a welcome drink. He was a Belgian who had traversed Sarek, finding the snow very difficult during the second half, so he was glad to have reached this place of comfort. After he had settled in he came to the shop to buy a soda, and also to give me a package of biscuits, which I courteously accepted. It was quickly getting colder outside, and when darkness had fallen all the stars were in plain evidence – and the full moon rose in the east.

I read some in my book and after a snack I put on warm clothes and went out in the moonlight, but since the sheen was not as strong as it should have been and many stars seemed to be "missing", it appeared as though there was a high veil having a diminishing effect on both. Back up at the cottages a weak aurora borealis was appearing, and it intensified somewhat a bit later, coming in the form of an arc from behind Skierffe. I therefore remained up attempting to catch the show on CCD, not turning in until 22:45.

Sunset

Aktsegállo

Aktse in the twilight

Sarek skyline

Thursday 12/3

I arose at 06:00 to a clear morning with a cold predawn light, so I went for a photo round. The Belgian was also up and about, but myself I returned to bed to rest a while longer. When dawn struck I put on more clothes and went for a longer round; it was entirely still, –19°C and exceptionally beautiful. A few high, thin stripes of cloud had appeared in the sky, and as I had breakfast the sun acquainted itself with them. The Belgian fellow was mostly ready to depart, and I conversed some in French with him outside, mainly concentrating on tips for his continued route and on the weather – this was the very best he had had all tour, and he was very pleased with that fact. I naturally planned to leave myself, and after changing the camera's batteries I did so at 9 o'clock.

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A German had taken up position in the upper cottage, and I went to greet him and give him some trail tips. I went on to have afternoon tea and fruit, taking it easy with the help of the radio, and then the dogsleds arrived somewhat earlier than usual. Stina was in the lead, and Matti came several minutes after all the others, carrying a loose dog on the sled itself. This was a stray dog that they had found on Rittak; apparently some people had lost it somewhere on Gábllá a week earlier, and given up hope. Shortly thereafter Anne-Sophie came up and I talked with her and Matti for a bit, and then she came into the shop, being followed by the group. The clouds had lifted to some degree earlier, but after dinner it was back to blanket status. After reading some in the book I went to charge and talk with the German, and then went over to the others, where I got some chocolate pudding. I returned down to my place in a new snowfall, and the temperature was no more than –8°C.

Matti with the bonus dog

Friday 13/3

Despite having slept well I felt tired in the morning – a morning that held a low ceiling of cloud, and soon it started to snow lightly again. The German left early, but the dogsledders naturally took their time. Just then the gas ran out again, and while I was changing the canister Gunilla, who had been the warden in Aktse last winter, called from Fältjägaren where she was now stationed, wanting to check how things were. She had only had around 20 guests so far herself, and had suffered much more wind that I had, which is not surprising given Fältjägaren's exposed location. Having completed the change I started packing for a fishing tour, and left at 10.

I followed the trail down to the lake and then broke off on a snowmobile track. Anne-Sophie passed by in front of me with her dogs, and after feeling my way across the more and more smooth snowy surface I crossed her tracks, going between the little headland and the even smaller island, proceeding a little ways outwards before stopping. I dug down to the ice and started drilling, which was tough work since the drill was not the sharpest, and the ice was also rather thick, so it took some time and quite a bit of effort before I was through.

I then sat down with my back against the wind and started fishing, being subjected to a bout of snowfall almost immediately. There were a few nibbles, but nothing came of them, and the longer I sat there the colder my feet became. Out on the trail there was quite a bit of snowmobile traffic in both directions, and I counted a number of visitors up at the cottage, which I could see clearly from my position. Eventually I walked off some distance in the direction of the island and made a new hole (with similar difficulties), but there was still nothing. At least the weather seemed to be getting better, with sun upon Gábllá, better visibility and almost no wind.

After having lunch I changed the lure, but getting no luck I returned to the first hole – and in short fashion a fish bit the hook. To my great disappointment it freed itself just at the surface, so I immediately lowered the lure again, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the fish bit down on it again, and this time I managed to get it up. It was rather a nice fish, but I of course would not say no to another, so I went on fishing. Feeling no more activity for a while I went over to the second hole, where I had a light snack – and then also another catch. Incredulously enough this went down excatly the same way: I lost the fish while hauling it up the first time, but upon trying again directly afterwards I could get it all the way up.

This one was slightly smaller than the other, but together they would make a fine meal. A good thing it was, too, for my time was almost up, and I started packing. The sun was playing on Tjahkkelij, and later also on Ridok, and while I was returning in my own tracks there was a curious optical phenomenon around the summit of Tjahkkelij. I followed a snowmobile track to the little cottage by the headland, and from there a ski track through the forest out onto a large mire, where I came out onto the trail. The clouds were now really breaking apart, and as I went up the last slope up to the cottages just before 15 the sun came out.

A bit of light on Tjahkkelij

More light on Gábllá

Partial rainbow

That pointy rock

I went to check the guest space, finding nothing new save one rucksack, and then set myself to work in the upper building. Just as I was finishing up a German woman came across the field from the west; she was the owner of the sack, and had been skiing in the delta in the afternoon. I went to gut the fish in the privy, and then I relaxed inside.

It was, however, not long before I heard a strange sound, and after a while I identified the gas heater as the source; for some reason it was not getting enough gas, and promptly died out. I went out to check the canisters and tubes, doing a leak test and all, but found nothing out of the ordinary, so I reactivated the heater and hoped for the best. Some time later the sound came again, but this time the heater managed to stay on, for suddenly – just before it was about to fail – it sprang back to life. I started preparing the fish while outside it was slowly getting better, and I also observed a single skier with a sled crossing the field heading into Sarek.

During dinner the heater died again, and this time reactivating it was no use, but at least the stove seemed to be operational. I went out to the storage area and rummaged through a box with gas-related items, and found a few that I could perhaps do something with, but I did not feel like embarking upon such a project until the next day, so I chopped some wood to use in the firewood heater in the meantime. After another failed attempt to get the gas heater working I started a fire and spent some time looking into the flames before having my evening snack. A temporary setback in the weather was followed by stars directly above, and off to the northwest there was a hint of a distant aurora. I put on some larger logs and then went to bed at 22.

Saturday 14/3

I see sky

In the morning the fire had burnt out, of course, and I tried the gas heater again, cranking up the power. The German woman left as early as 07:15, shortly after which the heater gave up anew. I did some work in the upper cottage and then fiddled with the reduction valve, restarting the heater at a low setting. As for the weather, it once again consisted of nothing but low clouds, and I took to sawing some more logs. Having done that to my heart's content (or whatever) I returned inside to go through the shop, taking notes regarding the stock and how the sale went, and the heater remained operative. I read some Utemagasinet while a light grew in the delta, but the clouds never rose. After lunch the light continued to grow, and now there was also a bit of blue overhead, so I decided to do some skiing around 13.

I went up the trail, which by now had seen so many snowmobiles that it was very soft and wavy, so going down would be very problematic. I broke off on my own tracks leading to Amon Rûdh, and not far from the trail these had been crossed fairly recently by a wolverine. On the hilltop I stuck to the edges, from where I had good views over the lake and valley, and all the time it was getting lighter but there was still no change in the cloud cover. I stood there for quite some time, surveying the land with my binoculars, and then went down the other side.

Once on the side track I got a pleasant but speedy run down, and then I turned off onto the tracks following the summer trail. Here like in the slope itself there were numerous traces of reindeer activity, but they were many days old, and skiing conditions were good. While I made my way through the forest the clouds finally started breaking up starting in the south, and I was greeted by a terrific view as I skied onto the Aktse field. I continued closely past the SNF cottage and then up beside Kjell's place, where there was no one home. In the growing sunlight I proceeded along a snowmobile track that went up to the left, getting perfect grip in the steepening slope, and eventually I reached a hut Anne-Sophie had told me about, but no one was there either. Going down was a quick-and-fun affair, and back out on the field a reindeer turned on its heel when it noted my approach. It was now sunny indeed, and I took it very easy the final bit up, arriving at 14:45.

The trail across the lake

Out of the forest

50%

Same here

Slight sun on Lájtávrre

The delta

Closeup of the next hill and a fraction of Tjaktjajávrre

Before the slope

Summer trail

Perspective-shifted...

...SNF cottage

Gábllá coming out

The hut

The old residential building

The heater was still burning, but now it was so warm that I had to shut it off anyway. The remaining clouds were departing, and I had afternoon tea on the porch of the upper cottage, where it was nice and warm in the sun. A bit later I heard voices from somewhere in the direction of the delta, and eventually two people came skiing across the field. These turned out to be a German couple, out of which the man spoke Swedish and the woman was of Russian origin, and it was their sixth day out from Ritsem. After discussing some animal tracks they invited me to dinner later on, and now clouds were taking up position further into Sarek.

I tried turning the heater back on, but it failed at once, and now the stove wasn't working either, so I decided to change the reduction valve to see if that helped. This was not as straightforward as it had seemed at first, and it was with some lingering doubts that I tried the heater again. I then went up to the Germans for a drink and some talk, and when I returned the flame had gone out. I therefore changed back to the original valve, which was also problematic since a clamp broke, but before I could go look for a replacement another two people arrived, in the form of a girl and her father. After a quick visit to the shop I continued with my unwanted project, and at long last I managed to get it right, even though the underlying problem was still unsolved.

Being much delayed I then went in to the others, and was served a special vegetarian dish, which the newly arrived father fortified with meatballs; apparently the Germans were both doctors and diet/health buffs, which was to dominate the following days. Lots of other talk followed as well, and I learnt that the girl had been out for several weeks already, having started in Grövelsjön and made her way up to Storlien, then taken the bus to the next stage between Hemavan and Ammarnäs, and was now on the last bit from Kvikkjokk to Abisko. The dad had joined up in Kvikkjokk, and was to disjoin again in Saltoluokta. Eventually I went back down to my place and listened to the national Eurovision finals, making some popcorn and trying the heater again. The former worked fine, but the latter didn't, so I fired up the cast-iron variant instead. After a short bout of snow the weather was mostly clear again, and there was no wind when I retired at 22:30.