Wednesday 2/1

Sometime during the night it got rather windy, and stayed so until morning. This wind was more or less easterly, which of course was not what I would have preferred given the direction of the stage of the day, but it was not too bad and I saw no reason to change my plans. After getting up around 7 I restored the rucksack compartments from yesterday's day tour and then went to make breakfast, noting that the other two over in the older cottage were also up and about. When I was finishing up the hosehold chores I heard some scraping sounds from the firewood stack, and when I looked more closely I found a set of mouse eyes levelly meeting my gaze before they disappeared into some cavity. Lifting said gaze to the windows I could see well enough outside – at least to the west. I went on to finish cleaning and packing, and when I stood outside putting the skis on at 09:15 I saw that the others were also about to depart, but I once again took the track-making upon myself.

Due to the wind I wore double thermal suits underneath the ski dress, which I was thankful for in the beginning where I was faced with oblique headwind. It was still not over the edge and there was no snow in the air either; the snow that lay on the ground was good for skiing, and in most places traces of past skiers were still in evidence. When I reached Vålån the wind pretty much ceased, but when I passed in front of the mouth of Gråsjödörren moments later it returned in full force, being rushed through the narrow valley. A light snowfall had also started, and when I entered the forest around the bridge employed by the summer trail the snow cover increased quite noticeably in thickness, but going was easy enough yet. There I was protected from the wind and therefore I soon started feeling warm, so I did not exert myself in any way.

In the eastern sky there was a large patch of lighter hue than the surrounding clouds, and as I skied along it gave way to a growing blueness. Having gotten up onto the plateau-ish region between Hjulåsen and Trondfjällen there was more wind, but nothing like before. The hole in the sky allowed for more of the weak-but-pretty light to reach the by now rather snowy world, but off to the east and southeast the clouds seemed to lick the ground. Paradoxically the wind dimished further when the vegetation grew sparser, and the snowfall had long since ceased, so when I found a rock of suitable size at 11 I decided to seize the opportunity and make lunch camp.

Looming

Part of Vålåvalen

No shortage of snow here

Other part of Vålåvalen

Clearing ahead

Vålåvalen emerging

A tree clinging to life

The bridge over Tronnan

A mire with open water

Clouds alight

While I was sitting there the clouds seemed unable to decide whether they should block my view or not, but eventually they started lifting continuously. Especially Kyrkstensfjället in the northwest was uncovered and given a warm tint. Also behind me the shape of Trondfjällen was being clearly defined, and Vålåvalen was more or less in the clear as well. I enjoyed the simultaneously wild and humble views from my sheltered position for some time, but when the eastern haze drew close I thought it best to get moving again – and the light was failing anyway.

Looking back at Vålåvalen

Clearing to the north...

...as well as above Trondfjällen

The northern outrunner of Gråsjöfjället

Light on Kyrkstensfjället

Zoomed in

It now looked worse both ahead and to the south of me, but the western areas seemed better instead. Shifting weather indeed – as usual. After a while I reached the crest of a fun and distance-swallowing downhill slope, the inclination of which was just right for safe and comfortable passage. Down in the deep forest the streams were not frozen, and I passed over several small bridges (with lots of snow on them) laid across yet another stream called Tvärån. In those parts the forest consisted of large and imposing spruces, and it was truly a joyful experience gliding under their branches. Here there was even more snow and the scene conveyed 100% winter, which was a very welcome change (or return) from a Yule severely lacking in that regard. It was, however, also pretty warm, and I removed my cap several times.

At Lunndörrsån I found that also this stream was open, so I just utilized the suspension bridge. Following that was another uphill portion through thinning forest, during the ascent of which it started snowing again, and by the time I reached the crest the clouds had succeeded in blocking every kind of vista. When I drew near to the cottages I came upon a set of ski tracks that looked fresh indeed, which I followed for the last bit. Just when I caught sight of the buildings around 13:30 I was hit by an appreciable southerly wind, which from then on dominated the stay.

Better view west

Glowing snow

Weak light

Clear above but not ahead

Capped rise

Down!

Looking back up

More open water

Passing into dense forest

Another stream not frozen

Majestic spruces

Rear view

Going up the next slope

Looking down from said slope

Destination

The warden's cottage

The warden came out to greet me, and as I had been told he has a history of winters in Såmmarlappa, and would be going there this coming April as well, so we had a kind of connection from the start. Upon entering the guest cottage I discovered that it had been the subject of a major overhaul recently – a project which was still in progress, but much had been done already. In the completely redone kitchen I found two men who were on a tenting tour and had been taking a food break inside. There was also the expected glögg and gingerbread which I happily dug into while talking a bit to the others. The girl from Vålåvalen had remained in Lunndörren and joined us shortly; there were also another two overnight guests at the moment.

I then changed out of the skiing clothes, which were moist enough to merit placement in the drying room, and following this I returned to the kitchen through the windows of which I observed one person pulled by two dogs pursued by two dogsleds coming from the south. The campers were now ready to go on – but not for very long, since dusk was in the process of falling – and packed up their things, while I went out to the woodshed to produce/acquire firewood. By then the dog-pair who had followed in my tracks had also arrived and were being housed in the other cottage, and the rest of us took care of the economic dealings.

Saanta across the mere

Ottfjället almost visible

Cottage and outhouse

More socializing in the kitchen followed, now with more people, and then I fired up the heater in the room I had chosen – thanks to the refurbishment the old model-that-I-don't-like had been replaced with a new one which I do like, so getting it up and running went quickly and easily. By that time the weather had deteriorated substantially, and I was glad that I was not going to spend the night in a tent. Instead I prepared and consumed my dinner alone, as all the others were on their rooms, and then I got ready for the longed-for sauna.

Just going the short distance to the sauna building was an adventure in itself due to the ongoing storm and ubiquitous snow, and once safely inside it was fascinating actually feeling the walls shake. There were some people there already, but the sauna chamber was not up to the usual temperatures since the vents were in the wall facing the aerial assault. I therefore took it upon myself to increase the efficiency of the heating device, putting in log after log. After a while the warden came in with his partner and those of us who remained talked for a long time about everything and anything.

Eventually we got the temperature up to the wanted level, and a run or two outside finally seemed appropriate. Any such venture was cut rather short, however, since the wind which was now even stronger cooled things off almost instantly, gallantly helped by all the snowdrift. If one still managed to pause to look, it was clear that there were no clouds in the sky, but casual stargazing was pretty much out of the question. I was the last one to leave, so I took care of closing procedures before facing the wrath of the weather gods once more.

Back in the main cottage I finished my cheese'n'crackers while the others ate more substantial foodstuff, speaking to them and the warden-pair who soon came in as well. Then the dogsled people retired to their room; their canine companions got to spend the night outside, which is what they are designed for. I had a light evening snack to round things off, accompanied by a rather loud whine from the south-facing windows. There was no one left in the common area by 22:15, at which time I crawled into bed with the rumble of the chimney acting as a lullaby.