Friday 15/9

There were strong winds during the night, and I had trouble falling asleep – and when I finally did, I did not sleep very well. I woke up early, finding the wind unchanged, and I stayed in bed until 06:45. Looking out of the tent I found that the wind had brought with it thick clouds which hung low; the rises marking the end of the valley to the south were still visible in their entirety, but it was a close call. It was a little bit lighter to the north, though, and it neither had rained nor was raining, which was always something. I had breakfast inside, after which there was a temporary lift overhead – everything returned to dreary grey after a while, but at least the progressing morning was making things a bit lighter overall. Visibility towards the north was good, and it was still lighter in that direction, but the clouds had descended further to the south. I did most of my packing inside the tent, observing that the low southern clouds were extending towards the north, bringing dense reinforcements from behind.

As I perceived an actual fog was approaching I worked quickly to strike the tent, using the stones to keep if from blowing away. As it turned out the mist had stopped its movement before getting low enough to encompass my camp site, and I had a good view of the lower parts of the valley, which was where I was going. Had the weather been better I probably would have continued south, perhaps through Giejnuoguvran, and reached the summer trail coming from Vuomemyran by Lill-Tjulträsket, but as it was I decided to follow Skidbäcken back down to the trail I had broken off from the day before.

I started walking shortly after 08:45, following the closest arm of Måskuosjuhka down towards Guovddajuhka, coming upon a number of reindeer paths and then some low thickets as I got close. I needed to get to the other side of the latter stream, but in that area it was not easily forded – well, not without getting one's feet and legs wet, anyway – so I proceeded downstream, keeping as close as the thickets allowed. At a place where the stream split into two courses I made an attempt, only to find that the second arm was too swift and deep, so I returned to the shore.

I rounded a small hill, and then tried again – this time I could walk in the stream itself to a more favorable location, where I cautiously made my way through the water. The depth was not so much of a problem as the current, and not because of its balance-disrupting force either – it simply made the water splash higher up on the shafts of my boots, and in one instance a milliliter found its way inside. A few additional quick steps saw me on the other side without further intrusion, and the small amount which had gotten in was of no particular concern. There were a few more, small arms that were easily crossed, and then I was safely on dry heath.

There were a large number of parallel reindeer paths heading for Lájvávággie, and as I proceeded along these the wind, which I apparently had been shielded from at the stream, returned. Forward visibility was not very good (regarding remote positions, that is), but behind me a few rays faintly illuminated a section of Ámmarde. When I reached the forest, a clear path undeniably of human origin (or at least development) appeared, but soon this too broke up into several. Descending was easy at any rate, and before I knew it I found myself on the trail a few hundred meters south of the Skidbäcken cabin, a small structure with only two small rooms. I walked up to the little house and wrote a few sentences in the guestbook, and then paid a visit to the privy. I decided to keep my clothing as it was; the wind was still keen, and there was high humidity on the verge of actual precipitation in the air, which also made me put on the rain cover.

The mist hanging low...

...over my head as I set out...

...on the stage of the day

Swift Guovddajuhka

Mist in the valley below

Gleam on Ámmarde

More mist further up

Rich palette...

...in the woodland

The clouds were very low all around, but the sky seemed brighter straight above. The trail again had taken on the character of a wagon track, and walking was very easy. It was a tad on the warm side every now and then in among the trees, but then I came up onto a bare rise just north of Vuöllie Åjkijejávrrie where the biting wind assaulted me in full force, and I was suddenly glad of the wind dress. It was more comfortable back down in the forest, and the condition of the trail was very good, so it was not very long before I reached the Åjkije hut, where the aforementioned summer trail lands. This is another renovated Sámi hut, and I found it to be in a very good state, so I entered it to have lunch at 11:15.

Following the autumnal trail...

...above open lowland...

...and forested hills...

...only ever seeing this small patch of sunlight

Low clouds still

Grassy area just before...

...the Åjkije hut

It felt a bit cold when I restarted, but I soon worked up my temperature. Blazing autumn colors were all around, but the low ceiling and gloomy light made this part of the stage quite boring – the trail was enclosed in forest all the time, and what clearings there were could not offer any sights worthy of note. In fact, the only thing that might be worthy of note was a flock of birds that moved around on Grubbatjejávrrie; they were also the only sign of life I had seen all day. Then I caught sight of Tärnasjön, which at least was somewhat uplifting, and around there the wind increased again. Just as I wondered how much farther I would have to go, I passed over a mire and spotted an eave in among the trees ahead, and at 13:45 I pulled in at the Tärnasjö cottage.

Sheer mountainsides to the southwest

Tärnasjön appearing

Jireskalet on the other side

Better view of the northern part of the lake

Another northern lake shot

Another southwestern mountains shot

STF's Tärnasjö cottage

County administration's Tärnasjö cottage

There are actually two cottages at the site in question: one run by STF and one by the County Administration of Västerbotten. Only STF employs a warden, however, and the current one came out to greet me. He was alone for the moment, and was using the time to clean out the unused parts of the building in preparation for the winter; there was only about a week left of the (manned) tourist season. He had received word that there would be three people coming from the Serve cottages, though.

I talked a little with him and then went inside to check out the cottage; it was very well kept, and also slightly different from the ones I am used to. The warden suggested that I take the designated "dog room", which has only two beds, as it was rather unlikely that any dogs would appear – he hadn't seen any for many a day – and should such a thing come to pass anyway it would be a simple thing for me to move. I ignited the gas heater in the drying room and left all wet or damp stuff in there, while the warden made a fire in the large firewood stove in the common room.

Having settled in properly I went out for a walk, heading down to the lake where a glimmer had appeared; it was fairly obvious that the western clouds were about to lift at least to some degree. I returned inside where I had afternoon tea and conversed with the warden, before he returned to cleaning. I read for a bit in a magazine, and then I went out again, this time checking out a few small cabins along the trail to Serve. While doing this I thought I heard voices further up the eastern slope, but I couldn't be sure. As expected, the clouds were lifting over the ridges west of the lake, and the rays of sunlight thereby allowed through made a fantastic show on and over the water. Jireskalet to the northwest was mostly in the clear, too.

A weak light over Tärnasjön

Looking northwest from the shore...

...and southwest from the cottage

Some other cabins nearby

Sunlight on Uerjeletjåhkka

The cottage again

More light...

...over the lake

When I got back to the cottage the trio had arrived, so it was probably them I had heard earlier. The cottage comes with a sauna, and since the newcomers were all women it was decided that we take turns, and that I go first at 18:00. I paid the sauna fee, and also indulged myself with a couple of small bags of potato chips, which were on sale. I snacked on one of these and continued to read in the common area while the others rested in their room, and then I started my dinner. I went on reading and eating chips afterwards, and outside it was clearing more to the west, letting a brighter light through although there was still no sun directly visible. I prepared a "sauna bag", and when the time drew near to 18 I started walking down to the lakeside where the sauna is located.

Even more...

...light...

...breaking through

The cottage's common room

While the steam chamber was fairly hot to start with, I brought up the temperature further still, and the session was outstanding. A good contribution to this was the continued dispersal of the western cloud cover, which let the evening sun shoot its beams down to the lake, creating a fabulous spectacle of light. I sat outside for long periods just soaking it all in, as well as going for a good many swims in the lake. When I was done the cloud bank which had hung over the western ridge had passed to the north, but there were more clouds further to the west as well as above. I returned to the cottage to let the women know that it was their turn, and then went to check out the other house – it turned out to be of the same make as the Dalavardo one, but with a slightly different attic.

Amazing...

...light

The sauna building

The light show...

...continues

Inside of sauna

Back inside I read in my book while finishing off the chips. All the clouds had then passed to the north, so the sky was largely clear, and the air was both still and crisp with autumn chill. I had my evening snack and read some more, and then the trio returned, having a snack of their own and going on to play Yatzy. The rest of the evening was calm and quiet, and I spent it reading before finally retiring at 21:00, at which time a few new clouds had appeared to the west.