Sarek, land of myth and legend!

More formally, Sarek is the second-largest national park in Sweden, encompassing a unique area of alpine character, with high mountains and deep valleys. Within this country only the Kebnekaise region approximates it to some extent, but Sarek enjoys a far grander repute, and is by many considered as the true and pure fjelds. Although one can argue (with prowess) that this is not really so in any strict sense, the sheer magnificence and attractive power of the Park cannot be denied, and I too had of course been feeling its pull for a long time. This year I finally decided that the hour was come for my first real visit – the marginal passage in the southwest corner last summer doesn't count – and I started planning well in advance, having my aim set on late July for the trip.

As I would be walking alone as usual, the nature of Sarek imposed certain security concerns, and I drew up several alternative routes at various points in case something unforeseen were to happen – or, in most cases, something which could be foreseen, at least regarding the potential for obstacles. The main route I plotted, however, was a classic one: start in Ritsem, walk through Ruohtesvágge to Skárjá and then across Bielavallda into Basstavágge, elicit boat transfer from Rinim, and finally walk along Kungsleden back up to Saltoluokta.

While it is common for people who choose this itinerary, in either direction, to take a shortcut between Sjnjuvtjudis and Áhkká on their way to or from Ritsem, I elected rather to go around Sjnjuvtjudis and employ the bridge over Sjnjuvtjudisjåhkå. The other way would involve fording either this stream or Suottasjjåhkå, and since water levels were much higher this year I did not particularly fancy any of those crossings as they are rather demanding to start with, and I saw no reason to chance it, thereby risking having to go around just the same should it turn out impossible or dangerous to get across.

When July entered its second half I started preparing for real, which of course also included careful study of weather reports. Unfortunately these did not seem very favorable at all, with the latest ones promising rain and unsteady weather pretty much for the duration of my planned journey, but at least they spoke of showers rather than constant rainfall, and it is of course a well-known fact that in the fjelds the weather can go either way at any time – and it frequently will. All in all, in the end I decided to go ahead with the tour without change – be it as it may!

My packing list was as follows:

And, of course, my trusty birch walking stick weighing in at 650g.

Note 1:
Having recently purchased a new camera I was of course anxious to try it out, but I was greatly disappointed when I saw the results afterwards. I have since concluded that a combination of specialized settings had conspired with the differently special nature of fjeld motifs to produce images critically lacking in fine detail, having poor contrast, and with strange-looking color representation under many conditions – nothing of which had shown up during my trials at home or on the little LCD screen during the tour. Now, there were still a number of shots which were very good by any standards, and more still which weren't too bad, and through extensive post processing most of the images turned out pretty well for the purposes of this report – the higher resolution helped there. After more careful study and adjustments subsequent photo series show drastic improvement, so there is nothing wrong with the camera as such, which of course is a relief.

Note 2:
The December 2006 release of the BD10 fjeld map has some peculiarities in it (as do later ones, for that matter). Most prominently, it employs both ń and ŋ as the sign for the velar nasal in Sámi names, whereas the previous edition used the former exclusively. There seems to be no definitive pattern as to which goes where, and in some cases the same name or name element is spelt in two different ways right next to each other. The problem has arisen because the current Lule Sámi orthography originally employed ń, but the Sámi themselves have since decided to change this particular sign to ŋ, and to resolve the situation I have used ŋ in all places. There are also two names which are transparently misspelt: Bierikbakte lacks an acute accent and in Snávvájávvre an r has turned into a v, and I have amended both words in the text.

Here, then, is the full account of what transpired during the subsequent nine days. Each section has a header consisting of a short overview of the stage in question, complete with a map showing the route travelled. A ring marks the starting point, a square the lunch break location (if any), and a star the destination. Vertical distances have been calculated from the map and have an accuracy of 20 m. All breakfasts consisted of oatmeal porridge, tea and a sandwich, and all lunches of two cups of instant soup, a sandwich and water.