Saturday 24/7 – Saturday 31/7

Saturday 24/7

I did not sleep very well, and when I woke up for the last time at 06:45 it was no use trying to get back to sleep, so instead I turned on the Saturday nature program and listened to it for an hour. The sky was about 3/4 clear with a few clouds around the Norwegian peaks, and some of the wind had returned (but not too much). The recent cold had apparently done away with the mosquitos – at least temporarily – and it looked to be a fine day. The woman left at 09:15, and I intended to go out as well soon, but I felt no hurry; instead I just stood outside and let the sun counter the wind. Then I made my decision about where to go and went up to check on the family, who where pulling their stuff together, themselves preparing for a day tour. The sky was now almost entirely clear, with only some high veils off to the south/southwest which seemed not to move, so conditions looked favorable when I left after 10:00.

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I went up to have a shower, and this time I started out by washing my hair as the water got warmer, and then enjoyed the peculiar privilege of a warm fjeld splash. True to tradition I then sat down on the bench and looked, going inside the guest cottage when the wind increased, finding no one there. The family returned an hour after I did, having had a splendid (and, according to the mother, much needed) day. Soon thereafter two people with a dog knocked on my door; these were part of the local Sámi contingent, even though I had not run into them earlier in the day, and they had come to visit my shop. After tending to this need we all sat down on or beside the porch and talked, and then the newcomers went back up to their place.

Having had dinner and dessert I stood outside for a while – it was very beautiful now – and then lay down to rest, which I really felt I needed. I talked some more with the others, and a bit later I heard new voices; apparently two Germans had arrived while I was not looking. They too would be staying two nights, and no more had I ascertained this than another person (a Swede this time) came from Abiskojaure. These latest arrivals brought a fair amount of mosquitos with them, so standing outside was not as pleasant anymore, even though it was otherwise a very nice summer evening. Just after I had brushed my teeth another hiker came from Riksgränsen – and he said that he had managed the (middle) Valfojåkka ford in his boots! Apparently that crossing is very susceptible to changes in weather conditions, as it was reportedly much, much worse just a few days earlier. Right now he wanted to tent, so we took care of that, and then I could throw myself down into bed at 22:15.

Sunday 25/7

I had to get up early for the usual reason, and found that the sky was still entirely clear, and neither was there anything resembling a wind. When I got up for real the latter was not true anymore, but it was of the weak variety. One of the Germans – who spoke good Swedish – had suffered through diarrhoea during the night, but was feeling better now. Thankfully it did not seem to be the result of a contagious disease, and the planned day of rest would probably do him good. It was very warm and nice outside, and I made preparations for another longer outing. I talked some with the tent guy as he left; being interested in history, he found the wartime significance of the place intriguing. There were some light veils in the southeast, but the sun was undimmed most of the time, and after tending to the others' shopping needs I set out in light attire around 10:15.

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Just as I put in my stuff I saw a man going up the hill; he had walked from Katterjåkk and also managed to get across the dreaded ford (the upper one this time) in his boots. He had also had the great fortune of seeing no less than seven golden eagles up on the ridge overlooking Skáŋgalanjávri, which is not an everyday occurrence. There were two more guests sitting on the porch, and these had walked from Cunojávrihytta on what some maps think is a trail, but what is in reality a stretch of mires and bushes, which I had seen for myself earlier. The Germans were inside, and they informed me that the people who had put up the tent were out on a day tour.

I had a nice shower, towards the end of which two more people came from Alesjaure, and one of the wardens from that place had also come. We all talked outside in the nice weather, flailing at the insects, and then both those two newcomers and the single man went on their way. I went inside and continued to talk with the other warden, and he gave me some cinnamon buns and even a fresh apple! I then went to search for the missing lens cover, but found nothing on the dry parts I could reach in my sandals. Just when I came back the tent people did as well, having been to Sjangeli. After a couple of shopping sessions I went down to my place and relaxed, consuming the apple. The warden had tried his luck in the fish tarn, but to no avail, so it was to be stored food for us all. The sun was passing in and out of a cloud plume, and when it was in it was fairly cool.

The plume

Upon devouring my dinner I went back up, where the campers were using the shower to wash clothes. I talked with the warden and the other two Swedes inside, where it was quite warm from all the sunlight, and then made a break to listen to the Norwegian weather report, returning to report upon it in turn. I showed my cottage to my colleague and spoke some more with him outside, and now the mosquitos had definitely regained their numbers and aggressiveness after their recent setback. Apart from that it was another fantastic evening, but it was a relief getting inside again. Later I found two Danes (what was it with the Danes this time around?) outside; they had spent the night at Stuor-Kärpel, and more were on their way. I waited for them in a cloud of mosquitos, and eventually another three came. I pondered how to make arrangements, but the whole thing solved itself when they asked for the four-bed room and a spare mattress. After letting them shop and pay I said good night to those who where still up, and turned in at 22:30.

Sun and water

Calm

Monday 26/7

I went out at 4 and once again just caught the rising sun, so a photo round followed. Eventually I managed to fall back asleep, and when I got up next the weather was still good with only a few high strips of cloud and a weak northeasterly wind. By the time I called on the guest cottage three of its occupants had already left, but the tent people had decided to stay for another night and go for another day tour today. As everyone left I set about baking more bread – the last batch of the season. Looking to the southwest there appeared to be a bank of clouds approaching, and indeed a front soon came from the south, but it was slow in arriving. I went for another lens cap search, this time wearing the boots so as to cover the wet terrain – and almost at once I found what I was looking for! Whee. I walked around some more in the nice forenoon, but the wind was on the increase. The cloud front then passed in front of the sun, and I sat down inside to have lunch.

Mornin'

Some rubble up the hill

Blended

White cliffs

The air was still warm but the wind was gusty, and the front seemed to be growing thinner. I lay down with my book, noting the return and subsequent new departure of the tent couple. The sky was slowly getting more and more veiled, and the sunlight therefore less and less penetrating, and I stayed inside resting a while longer. Then I went up to check on things and found two Germans sitting against the wall; they were to continue towards Abiskojaure and were just taking a break. It was now getting sunnier again as the veils were moving westwards, and it was rather warm. I sat down to look over the map, during which the Germans left and – apparently – took the wrong path, but they were bound to find the right way sooner or later.

As it was now only a few days left I made a plan of my remaining food stores and then did mostly nothing for a while. I observed some people coming down the slope, and just about then the campers were also returning, so I went up – and realized that the Danish family of five had come back! Apparently they had lost the trail somewhere higher up and wandered around for quite some time before deciding to head back. I sat down with the parents and the map to try to identify where they had gone wrong, and in the end we concluded that they had missed the sharp turn of the trail up from the valley between Stuor Allagas and Unna Allagas. After some more shopping I went out to talk to the campers; they had been to Ruovssokjávri and spoke very highly of it, which made my own wish to visit that place all the more strong now that I had so little time left to do it.

The sun had now passed far enough into the west that it had reentered the veils there, but the wind was weaker so things were still nice and warm. I saw two more people on the way on the near side of Ruovssokjohka, and they arrived in the middle of my dinner preparations. After eating I spoke some with the new people – who were not a group – and the campers, and the female part of the former was to stay for two nights. The visitor figures were now looking very good (especially after that slow start), and from what I had heard there was a good turnout in the entire area. I read extensively in my book while the clouds conquered more of the sky, but all the peaks were still out. Just after I had gone to bed at 22:30, however, some short but fairly heavy showers arrived, and I had some trouble going to sleep.

Not so fair anymore

Tuesday 27/7

The morning came with more clouds primarily in Norway, but it was still fairly warm. I thought the Danes were the first to depart, trying for Alesjaure a second time, but when I talked to the others I learnt that the male latecomer had left as early as 6. The sun shone on and off through gaps in the clouds, and after some more talk I went out for a final fishing attempt at 10:15. I went past the longer tarn, making a few casts along the way, and then tried to do the same in the little canal feeding its western end, but found it too shallow and grassy for comfort. About then I observed two new people entering the cottage, but no signalling attempts were made. I followed the canal upstream, passing over a flower bog, and then climbed a somewhat high cliff from where I made some casts down into the little pool below. I then proceeded around said pool, which was fairly shallow, and I had another run-in with the bottom.

After some more casts from another, lower rock I wanted to change spinner, and discovered that the ones I carried had tangled themselves nicely into the inside of my pocket, which took quite a bit of time (and some use of the knife) to sort out. I took a higher route back, from which I saw the new people leaving for Alesjaure, and walked over to my usual place at the fish tarn. Rain had come at Nuorjjovárri/1727, and a light drizzle was in effect. The mosquitos were a real hassle, and this time I did not even catch the bottom. For a while it looked like it was going to get lighter, but then the process reversed itself, and since it looked worse in Norway I went home. Just as I was walking up to my cottage at 11:15 it started to rain for real, so I was happy to get back indoors.

Passing the hill

Short bursts...

...of rain

Moved off

While the rain drummed on the roof and a haze reduced visibility I loosened the remaining spinners and mended the slight damage done in the process. When I was done the rain had stopped, and then it was time for lunch. The European Championships in athletics had just started on the radio, so I listened to some of that, and then it started raining again; soon it was actually pouring down. The radio broadcast held some excitement, and when it was over I went up to the main cottage where I talked for quite some time with the other woman. The rain had stopped but more was on the way, and I rested with the radio. At one time I saw two people on the hill, but rather than stopping they just went on towards Norway. When the national news came on I learnt of a glacier accident killing two climbers at Kebnekaise, which was sure to generate a bit of a buzz the coming weeks.

After my usual tea a single hiker came from Valfojåkka, and soon thereafter two other campers also came, but they only wanted to shop. Thus I went up with them, and up there I found two more people. One of those would only stop to eat, whereas the other would stay for two nights – and this man was Pär whom I knew from Utsidan. Low clouds were rolling in, and the rain was back in force. I remained there talking for some time, and then went down to have dinner. While I was eating the man who had paused earlier came back, having inadvertently followed the other campers towards Norway instead of Alesjaure, and now he saw fit to spend the night inside. The rain continued for much of the evening, in varying quantities, and the wind increased. Some time after I had gone to bed I became aware of someone outside; she went over to check the old storage building, but made no other disturbance, so I settled back to sleep.

Low clouds...

...fingering Ruovssuk

Wednesday 28/7

In the morning I noted the presence of a small tent beside the Norwegian trail a few hundred meters away, which I assumed belonged to that latecomer. When I went up to the guest cottage I found a new group of five inside; apparently they had arrived the evening before, but not wanted to bother me then. Just then the gas ran out, so I switched canisters and made a leak test while I was at it. The clouds in the sky were starting to pull apart – at least on the Swedish side – and it was getting lighter all the time. Soon only Pär remained, and I talked to him for quite some time. He was aiming for a day tour up Rádječohkat, but the clouds still hugged those parts tightly. I carried away the empty canister, and then gladly accepted the help of Pär to get the new one in place, which is never quite easy. He then left despite the persistent clouds, but I felt that conditions were not really worth it, so I stayed home, doing some work in the shop.

After lunch it was getting lighter again, but it was still cloudy in most places, and large clouds were still drifting around Rádječohkat. I took it easy for some time while the clouds continued their dance, and then I saw four people up at the shower booth. These had gone from Katterjokk and were to pause, but some of them also availed themselves of said shower. Later in the afternoon the clouds finally started to dissipate, but it was a slow process.

I went for a short walk, and just when I returned I met a lone man coming up the hill. He said he was going to take a break, but just when Pär came back he apparently decided to go on instead (causal relationship not established). I talked some with him, who as expected had not seen much from the heights; he had then continued down into Norway and taken the Čunojohka bridge, returning via the normal trail. It was fair and all now, but that didn't really help. Then four people from Abiskojaure came, intending to camp outside, and after taking off their packs the male half of the group went for a visit to the border cairn. Their female companions contented themselves with a visit to the shop, as did Pär, and I talked some with them all. It was now really nice outside, although there was an appreciable wind blowing, which on the other hand did away with the mosquitos.

Cloudy still

All the buildings

At rest

A series of shots of a dragonfly...

...which despite all expectations...

...remained motionless while...

...I drew closer and closer with the camera

In the early evening a low cloud that had crept up from Norddalen had reached Stuorjalga and even Ákšu beside Čunojávri, and the wind was a bit stronger and kind of chilly. After reading some in my book and following a bit of the athletics I went up and talked with the others outside. More athletics followed as the western cloud grew and spread, but the wind weakened. I went back up and found the campers engaged in a card game, so I sat down to speak to Pär, offering a sample of my baking prowess. Now the low drifting clouds had extended well into Sweden as well, bringing about foggy conditions, but above them it was light and clear. The fog oscillated but did not give way, and when I hit the sack at 22:15 I could see no further than the border.

Cap on Ruovssuk

The billowing cloud

Creeping...

...on both sides

Thursday 29/7

When I went out at 4 the fog was impenetrable, with zero visibility, and the still air heightened the sense of isolation. When next I awoke it had dissolved entirely, and the sky was clear; there was some wind, however. Everyone was inside when I went up to report, and I spoke a good deal with mostly Pär. It was warm and pleasant outside, so I took the opportunity to make that Ruovssokjávri visit I had wanted to make, leaving in light clothes at 09:45.

Glacier...

...ice

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Another visit

I went up to have a shower in short fashion, and from what I could see the place was empty. The water got very warm very quickly, and now the wind was such that it did not find its way into the booth. After spending some time on the bench I went in and saw that three beds were taken, but there was no one about; there were some Norwegian entries in the guestbook, though. When I went back outside I ran into Leif, who had been the closing winter warden, and we talked a bit before he too hit the shower.

I returned down to my place, where it was nice and cool, and relaxed with the radio. For the third time the elk was walking out into the same tarn, but from the other side this time, and after it had crossed it the calves joined up. I then went up to talk to Leif, who gave me a letter and a newspaper, and I also learnt that as I had suspected, the cottage had been rented out after he had left in May, which explained the disorder I had found when I arrived. Outside the sun was disappearing behind increasingly dense veils, but it was still warm. Then I had another experience of greeting children running ahead from the west; this time it was a Swiss family who were going to tent somewhere along the trail to Alesjaure, so they just shopped a bit before leaving.

After dinner the veils had mostly moved on, so the sun was appearing again. I stood with Leif on the hill in a warm wind; he was of course very familiar with the view, but not with this color scale. When I went inside the Norwegians had returned; they had arrived early and had been on a shorter tour to Sjangeli. I read through the newspaper and then spotted an unknown person by the privy, so I went up and found two new Norwegians who had gone from Hunddalshytta. There were more and more clouds in the sky, with several banks passing slowly overhead, but it remained warm. After a sturdy evening snack things were getting thick on the whole, and there was an intriguing light from below.

Friday 30/7

The next day began with high clouds and an appreciable but warm easterly wind. The Norwegian pair had left when I got up, and soon Leif did so as well. It was time to incinerate some garbage, but the wind was blowing from precisely the wrong direction, so I postponed it. I took it easy inside, with radio, crosswords and sudoku, and looked over some papers again. Four German campers came and paused outside, and before continuing they shopped a bit; about then the remaining Norwegians were also preparing to leave. The clouds had been low for some time, but now they were being pulled apart at least locally, although the wind was considerably stronger.

It was lighter still after lunch, but it did not last long, and even though I could still see the Norwegian peaks there was mist before them. Three people were coming down the slope, and I waited for them outside. I had heard from Pär that there was going to be a group of speleologists crawling around in the hills soon, and these were part of that group. They had their equipment at the tarns I had passed on my own cave-finding attempt (flown in by helicopter), and were now walking to get to it – the rest of the participants would be arriving later. Talking over my recent expedition with them I realized – as I had half suspected – that the cave I had actually found was not the one that had merited the cave symbol on the map, and I showed one of them the pictures I had taken in an attempt to ascertain just where it was. They then shopped a bit and sat down at the campsite for a snack, and I returned inside to the radio.

Soon two new Danes (oh yes) knocked on the door; they had fished their way from Abiskojaure in three days, catching zilch, and now wished to stay the night. Two of the cave people were leaving, but the third was (probably) to remain indoors. I saw two people coming upon the Norwegian trail without packs, and when they arrived I recognized them as the mashed-potatoes-loving Danish campers from before. Not surprisingly they wanted to shop again, although now there were no mashed potatoes left for them to obtain. I then talked a bit with the fishing Danes, finding it a bit difficult to understand them as is often the case, while they fried mushrooms they had picked along the way. Outside the clouds were low for the most part, and it was somehow both dark and light at the same time.

I had just lain down with my book when there was a yank at the door; it was a German from Abiskojaure, whom I sent up while I finished the last chapters (nicely timed, as it would be too heavy to carry home). I then went up and found the new arrival in the shower booth, so I went in and talked with the Danes. While I was starting dinner two more people came from Abiskojaure, and soon another two and a dog from Alesjaure followed by a quartet from the same direction, thereby setting a new record. Several of these also planned on staying two nights, so things were indeed looking good for my figures. After taking care of everyone I could finally get back down to eat and listen to the athletics.

By then the sun had come out, and the clouds were diminishing all the while. When I returned up I found two new campers inside, further increasing the numbers, and I talked some with the group of four, concentrating on map- and trail-related advice and information – and the dog people were also interested in learning about the ford and/or bridge in the vicinity of Čunojávri. The others had also read something along the lines of "no train between these dates" while in Abisko, but did not remember specifics, and I was worried that my plans for the return journey might be thwarted. I then found two German girls sitting beside the warden's cottage, and they too wanted to camp. I talked some with the other campers in a cloud of mosquitos; they had walked from Riksgränsen and would be returning from there three days hence, and had heard nothing about cancelled trains. Huh.

A strong rainbow suddenly appeared, and everyone filed out of cottages and tents to photograph it. I went inside to talk some more; outside the mosquitos were beyond troublesome, as there was no wind. It was growing cloudy again, with clear sky remaining to the northeast, and there was a pretty light on the new celestial puffs. I walked around a bit in this warm light, feeling a peculiar ache in my shoulder, and then went back inside to continue with the athletics. Then another German came from the direction of Riksgränsen, and since most people had already gone to sleep I merely pointed out which beds were empty. It was pretty nice outside (save for the mosquitos, that is) and looking westwards I noted that the glacier upon Nuorjjovárri had shed very much of its snow cover. I went to bed myself at 22:30, and then it seemed to be on the verge of clearing once more.

Saturday 31/7

An early moon

Clouds gathering

It was raining from an overcast sky in the morning, and since it was Saturday I stayed in bed with the nature program. My shoulder ache had worsened considerably during the night, so I took things easy, trying not to use it too much. Since I needed clarification on the train situation both for my own sake and that of others – many who pass Unna Allakas continue into Norway and aim for Katterat – I placed a call to the police on the assistance phone, asking for their very assistance in finding out what if anything was going on. The quartet and the Danes had decided to stay, and the other two Swedes would probably also do so due to a knee injury, but they might move out into their tent later.

While I was out the police called back, and the guest who had answered waved me in. The news they brought was encouraging: "no cancelled trains in the area until September". The wind situation was better, so I prepared the incinerator for a go, but held off in igniting it. The German woman, who would also be spending another night, went out on a day tour towards Ruovssuk, and I brought up some left-over ingredients to the group, who had asked for such in order to make some fresh bread. I then started clearing myself out of the warden's cottage, packing a box to be sent down in the winter, and started putting stuff I needed to carry with me into my rucksack, which had been standing empty against a shelf since I arrived. The quartet were going out aiming for Sjangeli, and I described the location of the ford I had found and used.

I then went up to talk to the "caveman"; he had in fact been one of the group of three who had discovered Korallgrottan (Coral Cave) in northern Jämtland in 1985, which is the longest known cave system in Sweden. He was soon to rejoin his companions, who in turn were intending to camp up on Ruovssuk; they had some sites in mind from an aerial photograph, but having semi-recently been up there I feared that these would be too wet and so tipped him off about the dry green patch I had found.

There was now quite a bit of wind, but it was southerly, so I thought it was time to light up the incinerator, which is placed just northeast of the buildings. The wind was still problematic, although I did get the starting fire going – but it did not seem to take. Apparently the bottom grate was too clogged with old residue so that the flames could not take hold in the new bags, so I put in more logs to achieve a higher temperature and tried to clear the spaces with a stick. In the end I left it be to see what would happen and went to have lunch; it was smoking very much, but I could see no flames as of yet.

When I had eaten I went up to check on the incinerator – and found that it was radiating heat. I opened the hatch with the stick and found that not only was there a fire going, but the contents had sunk a fair bit already, so things were apparently going well after all. I went inside the guest cottage and talked about the Riksgränsen trail with the two Swedes, and then another Swede approached from that direction. After shopping he continued on towards Alesjaure, and I sat down to sum up all the receipts I had written to date. A helicopter passed by at a low altitude, descending behind the western ridge, so this was probably related to the cave people. There was a bit of weak sunlight on and off as I walked up to talk some with the Danes (again somewhat awkwardly), and there was also a new arrival from Alesjaure. I did a bit of this and that down in my cottage, and then had my last afternoon tea.

I was feeling a bit anxious, since I was expecting my successor to arrive so that I could leave right after lunch the next day, but as of yet there were no signs of him. After resting a bit I saw someone coming from Norway, and when he arrived it turned out to be a Pole from Čáihnavággi. Both the German woman and the four Swedes then came back, and I spoke with the latter outside. After some more radio and resting I went up to check on things, and found that baking was in progress. Just then two foreigners came from the west, but after looking at the signs they went on towards Abiskojaure. I saw another person approaching slowly further away, and after a while she was overtaken by the male half of the quartet, who had gone to visit the border cairn. More rain and clouds were coming as I sat down to have dinner, and the helicopter made more runs.

When I had eaten the new woman had pitched her tent at the campsite, and when she made her way over to the main cottage I did so as well. Now the bread was done, and having provided most of the ingredients I was given a thick piece. Very fine, it was, and I talked with the others for a long time. It was now raining in full, and visibility was bad. I rested with the radio, following the athletics championships, and later on the clouds finally started giving way, even though a creeping one was touching Rádjeoaivi. It was noticeably colder, and I was surprised to find that there were no mosquitos in the osier at the pipe stream when I went to brush my teeth. I also met one of the Swedish guys and the Danish man who were on their way out for some evening fishing in the nearby tarns, and then turned to some paperwork. The sky was cloudy again with a hole or two, and the wind had picked up. I finished up as best I could inside, and then entered the bed for the last time at 22:30 – and there was still no new warden.

Creeping again