I woke up after another night's good sleep to the sound of other people getting up, but I remained in bed until 07:30 before doing the same. As expected the ground was covered in frost, and the air was still biting; Hillevi later revealed that when she had arisen earlier in the morning the thermometer had showed –5°C. The sky was mostly clear, but in the south banks of clouds lingered; they were, however, retreating, and very soon the sun appeared above Giron, which prompted a little morning walk on my part. I had breakfast while all the others were packing up, and I was the last to exit the cottage. I talked a bit with Hillevi outside before it was time to leave, and since it was windless and the sun was now rapidly warming both air and land, I elected to wear only light clothing as I set out for Kårsavagge after 9.
There is a frequently used route that leads over the eastern outrunner of Boazočohkka, and the first portion of this is constituted by a footpath leading up through the forest. This path starts just before the beach, so I went over there first to have a look before entering the forest again. The path itself was a good one, even though the vegetation was somewhat dense at times, but it was very far from the conditions around Vuopmegeahči on day 5.
Things quickly got warm and the lack of wind increased the effect, and of course the incline as such did the same – after tracing the edge of the lake for a bit the path had turned up the slope and was now following a brook. For the most part I saw nothing but branches, but at some point there was a clearing that offered wide views before I reached the tree line. With visibility thus unhampered I saw that the south was considerably better now than in the morning, but on the other hand an immense all-inclusive cloud bank was hovering off to the north, and at the moment I could not make out whether it was approaching, receding, or neither.
I quickly lost the path in the following bush-marsh, where the first insects of the tour made themselves known. Two of the people in my room that night had left the same way earlier, and now I spotted them moving in the direction of Njunesgeahči off to my right, but rather than chasing after them I found my own way. My first objective was to get out of the troublesome region, and upon accomplishing this I found a few small cairns, followed by faint signs of a path, and then nothing. While climbing up there out of the shade of the forest the sun could have been a force to be reckoned with, but it had just passed into some of the morning's clouds that still remained.
My map showed a "suggested route" that went about where I had seen the others, going over the ridge east of the 1150 point, but as I regarded the terrain ahead and above of me and compared to the map, I came to the conclusion that it would be preferable (or at least passable) to head for the crest west of 1150 instead, so I turned straight up, aiming for a crack of sorts in the steepening slope (indeed, this is the "suggested route" of newer maps). There had been some wind on and off since I left the forest, but now it was more on; the sun was out of cloud again, though. I passed through some low bushes and suchlike, but then the ground turned into soft grass as the inclination steadily grew. A bit higher up I laid eyes upon several large cairns off to my left, and since I was now approaching a cliff that I would have to circumvent anyway, I thought I could just as well head over there to see what route they traced.
I did so on ground bearing clear marks of having been trampled by a large number of reindeer, and once at the cairns I found them to be leading off in precisely the desired direction, so I followed them upwards. The northern clouds were definitely approaching, and soon their forerunners passed in front of the sun, but as is often the case with such forerunners they included quite a few holes in them so it was not a complete shadow just yet. Going up through the crack was steep but problem-free, and the cairns continued up onto the crest where the ground consisted of nothing but stones, but these were of the easy-to-walk-upon kind.
From there I had a mesmerizing view of Gorsavággi on the other side – I have previously noted that this name and that of Imladris (Rivendell) are basically one and the same, and I had no problems whatsoever imagining the valley before me as an Elvish realm. The cairns continued down the other side, almost at once turning left across a somewhat steep section of stones, then grass, and then heath and the like. There I met a couple coming up, and I gave them some tips regarding the other side, where the route as has been told is not as clear as it is on the Gorsavággi side. It was now fully overcast, and the wind continued undiminished as I approached the last steeper slope down to the valley floor. I could well have gone all the way to the Kårsavagge cottage, but the view was such that I simply could not pass up the opportunity for a lunch break with it before my eyes, so I found myself a good rock to use as a wind shield just at the top of this slope at 11:30.
Having rested and beheld to satisfy the immediate needs, I put on the wind jacket for the remaining bit down, which was actually much easier than the map would have me (and others) believe. Further down there appeared fractions of a path between the cairns, and below the slope the condition of both improved considerably. They made a turn around a watery zone and came to the connection between Bajimus Gorsajávri and Gaskkamus Gorsajávri directly opposite the cottage, where there were more cairns marking a ford all the way across. This ford was a very easy one as far as water levels were concerned, but for some reason the stones in the stream were the most slippery I have ever encountered, in the fjelds or otherwise, so it still took some time and care before I was at the door of the cute little house before 12:45.
I dumped the rucksack outside and went over to the warden's building to announce my arrival, as it were, and found the present warden in the middle of lunch with two friends, so it was only a brief chat. I returned to the guest cottage and moved in, this time choosing the larger room as I lived in the smaller one on my last visit in winter. I then went down to the water to have a makeshift wash, after which (and a change of clothing) I walked around a bit inspecting the look'n'feel of the place in summer. Suddenly I caught sight of a group of four people trying to make their way across the outflow from Gaskkamus Gorsajávri, and from the looks of it they attempted to do so by jumping from stone to stone rather than performing an actual fording. I stood outside and watched their progress, which was slow and interspersed with many a retake, but at long last everyone was on the northern side.
Just then a light rain started so I went back inside, continuing the almost burnt-out fire in the heater and looking through the obligatory pile of magazines lying on a shelf. Soon the quartet arrived, and I learnt that it consisted of Japanese youngsters. After some confusion involving a bit of broken English I surmised that what they thought was "Kissajaur" probably referred to Rissajávri in Gearggevággi, in which case they would not be reaching it as the way down into the latter valley from this direction is to be considered impassable – even though at least someone (you know who you are...) has been known to make it while still (barely) alive.
Now the clouds had started breaking up somewhat, and a bit of sunlight found its way through again. Just as the Japanese started back towards Abisko two other guys came from that direction at speed, and they threw off their (rather large) packs outside and after a quick break walked down to the water. Myself, I had afternoon tea and read some comics inside, while the warden joined the other by the stream where they all remained for quite some time; as it turned out they were British scientists tied to the Abisko Scientific Research Station, who were on their way to the little cabin at Gorsabahta and had just stopped to take water samples.
After they had left the warden joined me outside the guest cottage, and since she was no other than Emma whom I already knew from Utsidan we had quite a few things to talk about. When the sun was clouded again we went over to "her place" for a snack and much continued conversation, during which two campers passed by and one other woman who wanted to stay the night arrived from Abisko. Eventually I returned to the other building and greeted my new roommate, and then it was time for dinner.
I went on to speak about all things fjeld with her, and later on two more guests arrived from the west somewhere, choosing the other room for privacy. From that direction a haze was now approaching – a common occurrence here – and soon it was back to rain and wind. I spent some time playing solitaire before Emma came in to extract payment from the other, and a very lengthy conversation followed, starting out in the miscellaneous department, turning to Sámi and languages in general, and landing in wardenship-related topics and stories. We had a joint evening snack, and then Emma finally got a chance to leave for her own quarters. There was still a bit of rain in the wind, which blew in the dark which had fallen some time ago. By shared efforts we produced a fire in the heater before going to bed after 23:30.