I slept soundly, and was only slowly yanked back into consciousness as a sound penetrated the dream wall in the middle of the night. Apparently, a small rodent of some kind had found its way into my food bag – which was all but empty now anyway – and was unable to get out again. I chased it off and lifted the bag inside the inner tent, finding no traces of further breaches. There was some rain on and off the rest of the night, but when I arose after 06:15 it was holding off, and the brook was significantly lower. Another shower came and went while I had my breakfast, and then Håkan and Marita left while the rest of us finished up. At 08:15 Fredrik, David and I were ready to leave, and not trusting the weather I opted for the rain clothes from the start.
Close to the Boarekjávrre ford we came to a sunken footbridge over a deep canal, but with some creative adjustments and a good sense of balance we got across without incident. The ford itself was clearly of the sandal variety at the moment; it was neither swift nor difficult, but both cold and long. Once across we proceeded a little ways to a dry patch before switching back to boots, and just when we left we recognized the tent-couple by their brightly colored clothes on the other side of the ford. Visibility was fairly good but the clouds were low, and a drizzle permeated the air. The path was stony but not too wet, considering, and at times we even caught a weak glimpse of sunlight. The plain mostly consisted of nice heath, but the path itself often offered puddles and the like. Right after a small brook we passed a lone pipe-smoking man with a very low tent, and then we entered a section of leafy forest.
On the far side of a mire making up a miniature valley we caught up with Håkan and Marita, and after a chat our trio went on ahead. Now it was back to forest again, which was wetter than before. When we reached a nice woodland brook we stopped for a bit of a snack – and were overtaken by Håkan and Marita. It was getting lighter and warmer, and it had not rained for some time. Almost immediately after we started walking again we reached the border of Sarek National Park, and at precisely that spot the first spruces appeared. From here the path was intersected by both a lot of roots and windfallen trees, although the latter had mostly been sawed off.
Soon enough we passed the other two again, and this time kept the distance. The path had started slanting noticeably downwards, and not too long thereafter we were at Stuor Dáhtá. The stream feeding the lake from the west was traversed without too much hassle, even though it according to my companions was considerably larger now than when they had walked up a week earlier. In the stony forest that followed we passed a pausing foreign couple, and then had some slight trouble at a very wet area of grass. Immediately after crossing Dáhtájiegge at 11:45 I felt it was time for lunch, and my companions humored me in this.
While we were being still the foreign couple passed us by in turn, but we did not loiter overly. The clouds were getting thinner and the light stronger, but as of yet no sky was visible. The rest of the way to Kungsleden went by quickly, but just as we reached the main trail the path turned into a lake. While stony, the trail was not as bad as rumor would have it, and it was certainly wide enough for comfort. At the bridge over Njáhkájåhkå we overtook the couple from before again, after which the ground got drier and the fallen trees reappeared. It was still getting both lighter and warmer, so eventually we stopped to remove some clothing, but I at least kept the rain trousers on – and we were once again passed by the other couple. Soon the forest grew wetter again, and to no one's surprise we passed by the others one last time, since it was now their turn to stop. We met another trio going up, and some time later two more. The trail had newly built duckboards at several places, showing some welcome interest from the authorities.
The light had faded from the sky, and some drops had started falling again – the first since the Pårek plain. The downward slant increased, and finally we found ourselves at Tingstallstenen, a large rock that served as a moot site in days of yore. There the path turned into a sizeable stream, complete with small lakes along its course, so a good deal of circumventory action was required. A roar was growing out of the ambient sounds, and having reached the old road leading down to Kvikkjokk we went down to the source: mighty Gamajåhkå, which under present conditions was even more impassable than usual. Soon thereafter we passed the large parking lot at the end of the present-day road, and reached the original end of Kungsleden at the Kvikkjokk fjeld station at 14:15.
In the lobby we found Göran, who was waiting for the bus. And, speaking of the lobby, I was pleasantly surprised at what the new owners had done with the place, and am cautiously hopeful that Kvikkjokk will in time reattain its former status and glory. I also met Björn the local boat driver, who after a couple of moments recognized me by name. David and Fredrik considered staying in Kvikkjokk until the next day, but in the end decided to go to Jokkmokk instead; Fredrik had his car up at the parking lot, and since he had room for one more the three of us packed ourselves into the vehicle and left well before the afternoon bus, just as the rain returned in force.