Day 91-97: North along the Kungsleden

After a long walk the day before we are happy to spend the night inside the Vakkotavare cabin. The weather becomes apocalyptic, with gale force winds howling through the valley and lashing rain battering the wooden roof. We sleep long and wait for change. Late in the morning it finally becomes dry and the wind suddenly drops. Before heading north, however, we need a good wash really badly. We hoped to find a shower in the hut as it is located along the road towards Ritsem, but although there is an electricity line right next to the cabin, the STF constructed this hut like all their other mountain cabins: without power or running water (let alone hot water). We heat a bucket on the stove and go outside to try improve our body odor.

Morning in the Vakkotavare cabin

Vakkotavare marks the start of a 110km section on the northern part of the famous Kungsleden trail. This part of the Kungsleden cuts through the hearth of some of the highest mountain ranges in Sweden, and passes the foothills of Kebnekaise (2106m), the highest summit of the country. As this trail is one of the most popular of Scandinavia, we expect easy walking and swift progress right towards the north.

In the early afternoon we finally give it a go and start a steep climb away from the lake. We take multiple short stops to eat buckets of blueberries. Although it mostly remains overcast with a few slight showers, the weather seems to improve, and massive views towards the mighty Ahkka range start to open up when we reach the plateau between the Akkajaure and Teusojeure lakes. We expected hordes of hikers on the Kungsleden, but that clearly was a wrong estimate, as we cross only 5 other people during the entire day. The weather forecast promises a short window with fine weather for tomorrow morning. We therefore decide to make it a short day and camp before the descent towards the Teusojaure lake, with some summits close at hand.

Climbing away from the lake

View back towards the Ahkka range

Bright spell while crossing the tundra plateau towards Teusejaure

And indeed, the sky is brilliantly blue by dawn. Before packing, we quickly climb the elongated summit of Guolbbantjahkka (1197m). We easily reach the summit and enjoy phenomenal views back towards Sarek. All the main summits in the northern half of the National Park, glaciers draping their north faces, proudly guard the horizon like a phalanx of mountains. We have mixed feelings, what a pity we couldn’t admire these mountains while we were amidst only a few days ago…

Bivouac near Teusojeure as seen while starting the climb up to Guolbbantjahkka (1197m)

The Teusojaure lake as seen from the summit of Guolbbantjahkka (1197m)

The summits of Sarek as seen from Guolbbantjahkka (1197m)

The mighty north face of Niják (1922m) as seen from Guolbbantjahkka (1197m)

Enjoying a splendid morning on Guolbbantjahkka (1197m)

We descend back to our shelters, pack, and descend towards the Teusojaure lake. This lake, with a width of about 800m, has to be crossed with one of the rowing boats along the shore. From the summit we have already seen a few people making the crossing early in the morning in calm weather. But a strong southeasterly breeze has picked up in the meantime and ever growing waves sweep across the lake. We find a German girl accompanied by a dog hesitating to try to cross on her own (apparently she had a bad experience on a crossing near Aktse further south) and wait for the daily motorboat service from the Teusojaurestugorna cabin in the evening. Although our rowing skills are horrendous, which leads to some funny moments, we try to be the gentlemen of the day and give her a hitchhike across.

Ready to row across the Teusojaure lake

The Teusojaure lake as seen from near the Teusojaurestugorna cabin

From the Teusojaurestugorna it’s a steep climb (with huge blueberries) again to reach the Muorki plateau, which we then cross towards the next cabin, Kaitumjaurestugorna. The path is, like on many sections of the Kungsleden, very rocky. It is in fact easier to hike the tundra off-trail. The descent towars the Kaitumjakka river is splendid, but the views are somewhat tarnished by the presence of the winter markings. Unlike in Norway, where willow braches are planted in the snow early during the winter season, winter markings in Sweden are permanent, and typically are made up of red crossed mounted on thick stakes.

Blueberries on the climb away from Teusojaure

Cloudberries on the climb

Across the plateau towards Kaitumjaure, with the winter markings crossing the trail

When we reach the Kaitumjaurestugorna cabin quite some people are enjoying the sunshine on the terrace. As there were very little supplies in the Vakkotavare hut (we have been eating crackers with reindeer paste for 2 days), we buy food for two days in the store before continuing. Our intention is to hike a few kilometers up into the Tjaktjadalen. But we have hardly started the climb when we are tempted to call it a day anyway: the views back onto the turquoise Kaitumjaure lake, fed by the thundering glacial Tjaktjajakka river through a wonderful delta, are just too good to continue. The birch forest clearly give the first hints of the explosion of autumn colors which will soon unfold. And moreover: plenty of blueberries and cloudberries close at hand. Do I need to tell more to explain we have a long and wonderful evening outside?

Across the Kaitumjohka stream

Cloudberry shrine near Kaitumjaure

Splendid bivouac above the Kaitumjaure lake

The weather unfortunately starts to turn for the worst the following day. It is overcast and windy, but dry when we continue our walk north the following morning. At first we still walk through the birch forest, but after crossing the Tjaktjajakka on a massive metal bridge, the long 30km section through the upper Tjaktjadalen starts. It starts to rain just before we reach the Singistugorna cabin, which makes up the western access point towards Kebnekaise. With all the summits deep in the clouds, our plans to climb to northernmost 2000m summit in Scandinavia are long forgotten, and the afternoon becomes a very wet and windy venture towards the next cabin, Salkastugorna. We pitch our tarp near a stream about 100m from the hut, and go to sleep early.

The bridge across the Tjäktjajakka while starting the hike up the valley

The Tjäktjajakka river near Singistugorna

The Kungsleden near Singistugorna

Towards Sälkastugorna, in the rain…

We continue our stroll up the valley the following morning in dull weather and regular slight rain. After nearly two hours we reach the base of the climb up to the Tjaktjapasset (1130m), the highest pass of the entire Kungsleden and the access towards the Alisvággi valley. Despite the weather the ascent offers some splendid retrospective views through the endless Tjaktjadalen. But no way this is the best view in Lapland like most Kungsleden guidebooks will try to make you believe.

Approaching Tjäktjapasset

View back through the Tjäktjavagge from the Tjäktjapasset

As it is cold and windy on the pass we take a break inside a small shelter hut, which easily accommodates 3-4 persons for an overnighter. When the next hikers arrive we start the descent towards the Tjaktjastugan. The terrain is rocky at this altitude, but this is the Kungsleden and miles of planking make the hike easy and quick. We don’t stop at the cabin, but immediately continue down the valley while the weather becomes more changeable with an alternation of bright spells and showers. The tundra clearly transforms into its autumn dress, making for some dramatic views up the Aliseatnu valley.

Descending into the Alisvággi valley

The upper Alisvággi valley as seen from the Kungsleden trail

We continue hiking down the valley for a few more hours until we reach the southern end of the alluvial delta of the Aliseatnu at the tip of the Alisjávri lake. It is a nice evening with some sunshine, and we have an evening walk towards the waterfalls of the river thundering down to the braided section.

Bivouac south of Alesjaurestugorna

The Aliseatnu river just upstream of its delta at the southern tip of Alesjaure

After a night with a few northern light checks, it has become overcast again by the following morning. While Fre starts to continue on the Kungsleden trail towards the Alesjaurestugorna cabin, which is only 3km away, I walk back towards the waterfalls and put in with my packraft. It soon starts to rain again while I navigate through a series of deep, turquoise-coloured channels towards the lake. When I reach the bridge near the cabin, with a nice PR2-3 rapid about 50m further downstream, Fre is already in position for some pictures. I enter the lake and continue along its eastern shore, passing the Sami village of Alisjávri on the way. But in the meantime a strong easterly wind, funneled by the Tjatjavággi valley, has picked up, and I have to paddle hard to keep close to the shore and out of the breaking waves which sweep across the lake. The paddling becomes too dangerous. I continue for another kilometer until I reach a distinct peninsula nearly cutting the lake in two. I turn 90° to the left and, driven by the wind, race west across the lake at about 8km/h while trying to travel just as fast as the waves. I soon reach the western shore of the lake and put out. Fre, who already was getting a bit anxious, reaches me a few minutes later.

Putting in into the Aliseatnu river

We continue on the Kungsleden along the western shore of the lake. Weird enough, the wind drops again and the lake looks calm only minutes later. Apparently the wind was a very local phenomena caused by the specific topography (with a broad pass) of the mountains east of the Alisjávri village. After a dry spell, the rain intensifies again as we approach the Rádunjarga shelter. We go inside for a break. A group of 4 Fins, two guys and two girls, has stayed inside for the night and is just about to leave. They have walked 3 days from Abisko, and will continue south towards Nikkakuokta. Apparently they had splendid weather yesterday while climbing out of the Abisko valley.

Descending into the Abiskodalen

We continue north across a vast plateau. The Gardenvarri (1154m), an isolated peak which I expect to offer a splendid panorama through the Abiskodalen, is covered in clouds. Yet another summit to omit from the plan. We traverse its eastern slopes and descend below the treeline while it starts to rain more heavily. We are soaked by the time we approach the Abiskojaurestugorna cabin. We don’t spend a lot of time searching for a bivouac spot and pitch our stuff in the birch forest next to the trail. It continues raining heavily until sunset, but then the weather suddenly clears from the south while the barometer continues its steep dive towards 980hPa.

During the night it soon starts to freeze, and all our soaked equipment becomes hard as bone. When I have yet another routine aurora check around midnight, I perceive a faint whitish haze right in the zenith. Not having seen northern lights before, I hesitate at first whether I am staring at a cirrus cloud or northern lights. I don’t see any green of red lights either. The haze slowly moves across the sky, and I now know it is indeed the aurora. I have to admit my first reaction is one of disenchantment. But then suddenly one tip of the ‘cloud’ contracts to a curtain and starts to dance rapidly through the moon-lit sky. I immediately put on my clothes and wake up Fre. Bewildered, we stare at dancing curtains of white light, quickly traversing the sky from east to west, for two hours. I am surprised by the white color. I try to take a few pictures, on which the aurora is pale green. All pictures of aurora I have seen immediately feel like ‘falsifications’ of the true views of the northern lights, but later on this trip I will learn that the light can also have a color visually. At around 2 o’clock the activity starts to abate while more clouds rush in again, and we go to sleep again.

My first northern lights, near the Abiskojaure

Aurora borealis near Abiskojaure

Aurora borealis near Abiskojaure

By the next morning, the grey weather has kicked in again with banks of fog sliding along the foothills. Only a short, 13km walk through birch forest and peat bogs remains towards the town of Abisko, the northern end of the Kungsleden. After having skirted along the the Abiskojaure lake, we continue downstream along the Abiskojákka river, which thunders down towards the Torneträsk lake through a series of ravines. A few kilometers before reaching the lake, we leave the official Kungsleden trail (which heads for the enormous Abisko Fjällstation outside the town) and hike directly towards Abisko, where we decide to spend the night is a relatively cheap hostel near the train station and the supermarket (= 1kg of meatballs each).

The Abiskojakka river thundering down towards Torneträsk

Peat bogs near Abisko

The Kungsleden section has come to an end. In the end, this section did not disappoint me. The Kungsleden surely does not show the wildest en most remote corners of Lapland, but it is a beautiful trail with splendid sections which, because of the many back-up cabins on the way, must be a perfect destination for less experienced hikers wanting to make a long trek in Scandinavia. In early September the trails are already pretty empty. When I visit this area again in the future, I will probably stay east of the Kungsleden trajectory, where there are endless possibilities in top-class mountain ranges and excellent packrafting rivers like the Visttasjohka and the Laddjujohka.

Fre travels home the next day, which means I will continue north solo. It is 5 september and I have to cover another 800km towards Nordkinn, meaning I will have to average over 30km/day during the final weeks of my journey. The next 50km stretch compose one of the last real breaking points of my route: I have to cross the vast Torneträsk and Altevatnet lakes by packraft to get access to the Dividalen area. The following day a 5 to 6 beaufort wind rages through the valley, with waves of over a meter on the lake. We go to the Fjällstation, where I finally post a new blog update, and then have diner together in the restaurant next to the gasoline station. Late in the afternoon Fre hikes back to the Fjällstation to catch his train, and I start walking east along the road towards the narrowest point to cross the lake as soon as the wind drops. I see his train passing by just before starting my next off-trail section through birch forest full of bear shit towards the Roggenjàrga point. The long, final push towards Nordkinn has begun.

Dramatic skies with a nice punchhole cloud while walking east along the road towards the Roggenjárga peninsula

Bivouac on the Roggenjárga peninsula on a windy evening, waiting to cross the Torneträsk lake…

Stages:
31/08/2012: Vakkotavare – Gappojahka (11km, +580/-230, 3h05)
01/09/2012: Gappojahka – Kaitumjaure (17km, +840/-920, 5h00)
02/09/2012: Kaitumjaure – Sälkastugorna (25km, +270/-70, 5h50)
03/09/2012: Sälkastugorna – Alisjavri delta (25km, +360/-400, 5h30)
04/09/2012: Alisjavri delta – Abiskojaure (24km, +100/-390, 5h15)
05/09/2012: Abiskojaure – Abisko (14km, +40/-150, 3h20)
06/09/2012: Abisko – Roggenjárga (13km, +40/-80, 2h50)

Map Vakkotavare – Abisko

Scandinavië: land van water… en rivieroversteken

Wat wandelen in Scandinavië ongetwijfeld het meeste karakteriseert – afgezien van de ongekende wijdsheid van z’n landschappen – is de alomtegenwoordigheid van water. Het glijdt in diepe geulen door uitgestrekte veenmoerassen, dondert woest van de desolate hoogplateaus naar de groene fjorden, en rust onder het noorderlicht in eindeloze mozaïeken van meren. Nooit zal je in Scandinavië liters water in je rugzak moeten rondsleuren zoals dat in bijvoorbeeld Alpen of Pyreneeën wel het geval kan zijn.

Als wandelaar is al dat water uiteraard iets om tijdens je tocht rekening mee te houden. Alhoewel de talloze kleinere beekjes en rivieren dikwijls van steen tot steen moeten worden overgehuppeld, zijn de belangrijke wandelroutes gelukkig voorzien van bruggen. In Zweden (bijvoorbeeld op bekende routes als de Kungsleden of de Padjelanteleden) zijn deze bruggen typisch stevige metalen constructies die het hele jaar door blijven staan. In Noorwegen daarentegen zijn de bruggen door hun opbouw te zwak om in de winter de last van meters sneeuw de kunnen weerstaan. Deze zogenaamde zomerbruggen worden daarom aan het einde van het wandelseizoen (typisch eind september of begin oktober) afgebroken, en aan het begin van de zomer (in de loop van de maand juni) terug opgebouwd. Vroege of late vogels moeten dus rekening houden met erg zware en potentieel gevaarlijke rivierdoorwadingen. Het is dus niet onverstandig om voor de zomermaanden te kiezen als je verwacht grote rivieren te moeten oversteken.

Een stevige, metalen zomerbrug langs de Kungsleden, Noordwest-Zweden

Een eenvoudige (maar daarom niet minder koude) rivierdoorwading in het Nationale Park Dovrefjell, Centraal-Noorwegen

Of een brug enkel in de zomer blijft staan of het hele jaar door staat meestal op de kaart vermeld (een ‘H’ voor ‘helarsbru’ en een ‘S’ voor ‘sommarbru). Wanneer die zomerbruggen dan exact worden opgebouwd of afgebroken hangt af van de weersomstandigheden en de sneeuwcondities en zijn daarom verschillend van jaar tot jaar. Als je een tocht plant aan het begin of het einde van het seizoen contacteer je hiervoor best even de Noorse DNT, die instaat voor het onderhoud van de wandelroutes.

Een typische Noorse zomerbrug op de Hardangervidda, Zuid-Noorwegen

In Scandinavië zijn er ook nog uitgestrekte gebieden waar wandelroutes in het geheel ontbreken. Daar moet je uiteraard het hele jaar door voorbereid zijn op (ijskoude!) verrassingen.

Wat dat concreet allemaal betekent? Bekijk zeker onderstaand filmpje met beelden uit Zuid-Noorwegen vóór de start van het echte wandelseizoen!

Some changes and announcements

I’ve been writing in english about my trip through Scandinavia for a bit over one year and a half now. It’s feels great to reach an international public – and I’m amazed every day by the amount of people actually checking out all those blogs out there and directly contacting me with all kind of questions about this trip and about Scandinavia. It also feels great to learn from them and discover new sources of information out there. Yep, all this blogging takes some time, but is ever more rewarding afterwards.

Because of some changes in my personal life (I changed jobs and started my own company in the meantime), I have had little time to write during the last few months, and I feel like it’s time for some changes to keep my blog running. I will try to finish my post-trip write-up during the next few months, but I’ll also start with trip reports and gear reviews which are not directly related to my trip through Scandinavia.

I’ve not spent a single day in the mountains and wilderness since I’m back from the Nordkinn, but lucky enough this that is soon going to change. Summer will bring a 4-week trip through the extremely wild and remote southern tip of Greenland. I will try to make an unprecedented autonomous solo adventure from Narsarsuaq towards Tasiusaq, crossing multiple high mountain passes and fjords (by packraft) on the way. After that I’ll spend another 10 days exploring the area between Tasermiut fjord and Cape Farewell, on a route pretty much similar to the one Joery walked a few years ago. Planning is in full flow and I would like to share some stuff on this soon! Apart from that I’ll start sharing pictures and stories on trips through the Pyrenees, Scotland, the Alps, and more I’ve made during the past 8 years.

Then finally I’m happy to announce that I will be a guest author about Scandinavia for
Op Pad, the most important outdoor magazine in Belgium and the Netherlands. I will write a short contribution (in Dutch) on my blog every few weeks, some of which will appear on their website or in the journal itself. These posts will contain general information on a wide array of topics rather than the trip reports you’re used to. It’s the first time I’ll be able to write for such a wide audience and I’m eager start this new challenge. So don’t be surprised to find a Dutch text on this page every now and then! I’m curious how such a bilingual blog will work out by the way.

For now – and at least until I’ve finished my write-up – the name and the looks of the blog will remain the same!

Hope you enjoy the new stuff!
Willem

Day 83-90: Sulitjelma, Padjelanta and Sarek: through the wild hearth of Scandinavia

Summer slowly starts to turn into autumn when we reach Sulitjelma in late august. From this point my route takes a sharp turn towards the east, and starts its longest section without resupply. We will first cross the wild Sulitjelma range, cross the Swedish border, hike through the vast expanses of the Padjelanta National Park, and eventually reach one of the most renown mountain clusters in entire Scandinavia: Sarek, Europe’s last wilderness. It is presumably the stretch I have looked forward to most before and during my trip. As it is the longest stretch without resupply (9 days), our backpacks are also at their heaviest of the entire trip. I haul about 22kg up the winding gravel road up the hill when we leave Sulitjelma the following morning. Fre, who has no packrafting gear but whose pack and camping gear is heavier than mine, won’t be far off.

Unfortunately the fine weather has come to an end, and our traverse into Sweden brings many dull and windy days, cold temperatures, and the first snow on higher ground. In Sarek low clouds obscure the views of the majestic summits for all but a few hours.

As I don’t have a lot of time to write these days, I’ll make this an entirely visual part of my report again, with some remarks below the pictures. Enjoy!

Climbing away from the mining town of Sulitjelma

Crossing the high passes between Storelvvatnet and Sorjoshytta, a section which offers hours of rocky terrain – and which could also offer great views on the Sulitjelma range in finer weather

Approaching the Sorjoshytta, where we will spend the night

I hoped to explore the wild area around the Skagmadalen the next day, but the cloudbase remained very low with regular drizzle, so in the end we just continue east on the Nordkalottleden. While walking along the Sarjasjavrre the clouds start to break and views onto the peaks of Sulitjelma open up

We meet fellow Belgians Steve and Katrijn, who are on an 8-week trip in Lapland, on the trail! Check out their website: http://www.patagoniandreams.com

Peak 1663m on the Swedish-Norwegian border, as seen from the shores of Sarjasjavrre during clearing weather

Retrospective view towards the Sorjostjahkka peak in northern Sulitjelma as seen from the outflow of the Sarjasjavrre near Sarjasjaurestugan

Pancake break in the cozy Sarjasjaurestugan cabin

Reindeer on the Nordkalottleden while appoaching Staloluaktostugorna

View back through the magnificent Stalojahka valley, a battlefield of old moraines. The peaks of the Sulitjelma range loom in the back

Sami shop in Staloluoktastugorna

The church of the Sami village of Staloluoktastugorna, at the shore of the vast Virihaure lake.

Swedish helicopter humor at Staloluokta

East along the Padjelanteladen, the peaks of Sarek are coming closer…

View back towards Virihaure from the Padjelantaleden between Stalolukatostugorna and Tuottarstugorna

Camp a few kilometers short of Tuottarstugorna during a bright spell between numerous showers

Off-trail approach of Sarvesvagge at the entrance of Sarek National Park

Entering the Sarvesvagge in western Sarek – the weather is set for rain and low clouds

This must have been the most miserable bivouac of the entire trip, with rain and sleet, around-freezing temperatures and a howling wind all night long.

Continuing east through Sarvesvagge on a cold and rainy morning

The first long bushwhacking section in Sarvesvagge are coming up…

The rocky bed of the river often allowed easy progress compared to the thick willow bush deep in the valley. Retrospective view through the Sarvesvagge, with the freshly powdered summit of Naite (1620m) in the back

The weather finally starts to clear in the evening hours and we climb up the valley slopes for this retrospective view through the Sarvesvagge

Bivouac in the lower Sarvesvagge

After a first freezing night of autumn, the morning hours offer some splendid hiking through the lower Sarvesvagge

The vast alluvial plains near the confluence of the Sarvesjahka and the Rahpaadno rivers. Here I inflate my packraft for a few kilometers on one of Europe’s finest rivers

Packrafting the Rapaahdno!

Through the birch forest in Rapadalen

Views back on the Rahpahdno river, with rain kicking in again

Bivouac along the Snavvajavvre. We really wanted to climb Laddebakte (1537m) from this point for the incredible views through the Rapadalen, but the evening as well as the following morning bring more rain, wind, and low clouds

Good morning!

Magnificent views through the upper Rapadalen while approaching Spokstenen – on yet another wet and windy morning

The Rahpaadno river as seen from Spokstenen

Hiking east through the easy Bierikvagge valley

Evening view of the delta of the Liehtjijavrre lake, with the summit of Slugga (1279m) getting some sun in the back, as seen while swapping Sarek National Park for Stora Sjöfallets National Park

Bivouac in Guhkesvagge

Morning clouds near the Guhkesvakkjahka, the main river in the Guhkesvagge valley

The long section towards the Suorva dam offers quite some bushwhacking and boulderfields. As it is another dull and rainy day, we make a long 32km day in order to reach the Vakkotavare cabin

Cloudberry heaven!

Boulderfields while descending to the Suorva dam

Bear shit in the forest near the Suorva dam

Getting out of Sarek is actually more difficult than hiking its wilderness!

The start of a stormy night along the Suorvajaure, as seen whili walking towards Vakkotavare along the rain. The mighty Ahkka (2015m), can be seen in the back

Stages:
23/08/2012: Sulitjelma – Sorjoshytta (17km, +1120/-420, 5u05)
24/08/2012: Sorjoshytta – Jiegnaffojahka (19km, +70/-200, 5u15)
25/08/2012: Jiegnaffojahka – Forfallan stuga (25km, +300/-180, 5u50)
26/08/2012: Forfallan stuga – Sarvesvagge 900m (19km, +320/-240, 4u50)
27/08/2012: Sarvesvagge 900m – Sarvesvagge 650m (15km, +130/-380, 4u10)
28/08/2012: Sarvesvagge 650m – Snavvajavvre (11km, +460/-130, 4u00)
29/08/2012: Snavvajavre – Guohkesvagge 840m (16km, +150/-290, 4u45)
30/08/2012: Guohkesvagge 840m – Vakkotavare (32km, +140/-530, 8u10)

Map Sulitjelma – Vakkotavare

Day 75-82: Across the arctic circle in Saltfjellet

I sleep long in Umbukta after the exhausting stage of yesterday. I have a good breakfast in the hut and pick up the food drop I have sent from Snasa nearly two weeks ago. After a shower I start climbing on the DNT-trail towards Sauvasshytta a bit before 10 o’clock in the morning. The weather is warm and sunny again. Although I clearly feel the fatigue from yesterday, I quickly find a good rhythm. Only four and a half months ago I have done this climb on ski’s and with pulks with 4 friends after an episode with nearly half a meter of fresh powder. Back then it took monstrous efforts and nearly 3 hours to trace our way up towards the Austerskardet plateau. Now the 200m of climbing are a piece of cake and it feels ridiculous how physically spent we were when reaching the pass.

View back towards Umbukta, with the Okstinden range in the back, during the climb

After climbing away from the plateau I leave the trail for a while and traverse off-trail on easy tundra terrain below the Vestre Sauvatnet, to pick up the next DNT-trail into the Plurdalen a few kilometers further. The Okstinden range disappears in the south on the descent, only to make way for the massive glaciers of Svartisen in the northwest. It’s an easy, highly enjoyable walk which allows my body to recuperate from yesterday. After a while the descent gets steeper and I plunge into the birch forest again. At around 2 o’clock I reach the gravel road through the Plurdalen, and climb up to the dam at the western tip of the huge Kalvatnet lake.

The outflow of Vestre Sauvatnet

There is a gentle breeze from the northwest, but not quite stronge enough to discourage me to start a 10km flatwater crossing of the lake. I follow the northwestern shore all the way to the northern tip of the lake. It is magnificent paddling in warm sunshine and with the snow-capped mountains of Ranafjellet as a backdrop. I take my time to enjoy the float and reach my destination at around 6 o’clock in the evening, after a day which has passed way too fast. I camp on a small peninsula. Small boats sail across the lake towards the many vacation cabins until sunset. It is a perfect summer evening and I stay outside in t-shirt until it gets too dark to read.

Finishing the packrafting section across Kallvatnet

Bivouac along the Kallvatnet on yet another nice summer evening

I start sweating from the very first second the next morning as I begin a steep climb to start a day which will be entirely off-trail. The birch forest gradually makes way for easy tundra as I gain a small pass (850m) on the southern slopes of Heinberget and continue with a traverse above the Klimptjønna lake, which offers massive views towards Svartisen. A last climb guides me up towards the group of lakes (992m) on a broad pass east of Østerdalsknabben. Some ice still floats on the water. I take a break before starting the steep descent a snowfields and rock slabs into the Skredbekken valley. Once I’m down I start a long traverse on the eastern slopes of the Koppardalen, which is characterized by parallel rock bands and reminds me very much of the Skjaekerfjellet.

Climbing away from the Kallvatnet

Traversing above the Klimptjonna lake

Starting a long off-trail walk upstream through the Koppardalen

After a somewhat difficult first part, the bushwhacking gets easier and the terrain flattens out when I approach the Koppervatnet. I do not hike up to the lake itself, but wade its outflow downstream of a ravine and stay well to the west on the slopes of Viltlausfjellet (622m). The views through the valley, with a shallow stream meandering through its floor, never get boring. I keep walking at a good pace, however. My friend Fre has travelled to Norway last night, and we have some kind of an appointment on the Elivollan plateau, today’s destination, in the late afternoon. He will hike up there from Storvollen, where his train from Trondheim arrives. After 22 days of solo hiking I’m excited with the thought to meet him in just a few hours.

Crossing the Rismalsbekken stream in Koppardalen

The vegetation gradually becomes more scarce as I continue my way up on the gentle western slopes of the valley. Eventually I reach the pass between the Koppardalen and the Messingadalen and start the descent towards the plateau while looking for a moving speckle in the mighty landscape, with views extending deep into Saltfjellet. As I get closer I realize he is not there yet. It is around 5 o’clock. I find a great bivouac spot near the confluence of the Jarfjellbekken and Kjemingelva streams. The hours pass by in the evening but Fre does not come. Around 8 o’clock in the evening I realize he won’t come today. Bug pressure becomes high in the evening and I get into my tarp relatively early.

Nice bivouac spot near Elivollan

I pack early the next morning and leave at 8 o’clock. It is still warm and sunny, but the atmosphere appears to be less stable with towering cumulus clouds already building above the mountains of Saltfjellet. I quickly descend below the treeline in the pretty Messingadalen, with the river often digging through shallow ravines and with massive views north through the Tespdalen valley we will hike through this afternoon. Luckily I pick up a vague path while descending through thickening birch and pine forest towards the farms of Heimasen. At around 11 o’clock I reach the E6 min road through Dunderlandsdalen. I have mobile phone coverage again and manage to reach Fre. As he was too tired from the long travel, he has been chilling in a field at the other side of the Ranelva river yesterday while enjoying the warm weather. We meet a few minutes later. It’s good to see a friend again.

Downstream through the nice Messingadalen

We take a very long break while reorganizing our packs (Fre has brought me a lot of new/replacement gear, like GTX-socks, merino wool underwear for the cold autumn days which will soon come, new batteries for my SPOT and mobile phone, among many other smaller things). It is 3 in the afternoon when we finally start our hike up the Tespdalen valley. Fre is soon impressed by the sheer extent of the Arctic landscapes. After a while we reach a special point in my journey: a wooden arc indicates the crossing of the Arctic Circle! We have a short break and a photoshoot. A quick calculation learns that I have now hiked up nearly 9 degrees latitude from Lindesnes, with only 4 and a half to go towards Nordkinn!

Across the Arctic Circle!

The valley gradually opens up further north with splendid walking through thin birch forest and rolling tundra. We call it a day on a panoramic bivouac spot about 1km short of the old Gila Fjellstue and enjoy yet another warm evening well into twilight.

Perfect trail through the Tespdalen

Evening in the Tespdalen valley

Fog and low clouds drift through the valley the following morning. It already feels weird after the 5 days of brilliant sunshine. We give it a go at around 9 o’clock and easily climb up towards the Tespvatna, where a group a fishers is camping along the shore of the lake. The climb gets a bit steeper on the way up to Lappflytarskardet, but the views from the pass are exceptionally rewarding: the immense Bjølladalen, one of Saltfjellet’s main valleys which cuts from north to south through the hearth of the national park, suddenly appears in all its splendor. There is no wind at all and we can clearly hear the Bjøllaga river flush down through multiple long rapids, with meandering sections through peat bogs in between. Fre is impressed by his first Northern Scandinavian panorama.

The Bjølladalen as seen from the pass

We descend into the birch forest and reach the valley floor near the southern end of the meandering sections of the river through the Krokkimyra swamps. In the meantime the clouds start to break. After a highly enjoyable stroll through the birch forest we reach the Krukkistua cabin in glorious sunshine, and in t-shirt! The Krukkistua is yet another of these small, cozy and unstaffed DNT-cabins which are so typical for Northern Norway. We have a quick look inside, then take a lunch break at the picknick table in a meadow.

The weather starts to clear in the Bjølladalen

The Krukkistua cabin

The next section is one of the most enjoyable of the entire Saltfjellet crossing, with excellent trails, rolling terrain through open birch forest, splendid views through the Bjollaga valley and warm august sunshine. The kilometers fly by and we quickly reach the next cabin, Saltfjellstua. This is somewhat of a special place for me as I spent a rainy night in this hut during a Saltfjellet crossing in early autumn 2009. I even find back my entry in the ‘Hyttebok’! Aaaah, nostalgia…

The Bjøllaga river just upstream of Krukkistua

Through open birch forest in the splendid Bjølladalen

Excellent trails in the Bjølladalen valley

Cool to find back my 2009 entry in the Saltfjellstua Hyttebok!

Upstream of the Saltfjellstua the Bjøllaga river cascades down through a ravine. We cross the river on a spectacular summer bridge and start a short but steep climb towards a shoulder south of the large Sore Bjøllavatnet. I know this route from my trip 3 years ago, and motivate Fre to push on for another 20 minutes as there are splendid bivouac spots above the lake waiting for us. We eventually call it a day just after crossing the stream coming down from the Raudiskardet pass. It gets calm, overcast and humid in the evening and that’s the perfect recipe for a hardcore mosquito invasion. After dinner we go for a read in our respective shelters.

Bivouac above the Sore Bjøllavatnet (picture Fre)

The next morning we start climbing into the barren Steindalen valley. As the name suggests, this valley offers lots of rocky tundra and boulderfields as it cuts right through the highest part of Saltfjellet, with summits like Lonstinden (1506m), Addjektind (1444m) and of course Orfjellet (1751m, highest mountain of the National Park) lining the valley. It’s a wonderful section, but also a long and sometimes annoying one which requires concentration. We are lucky to be able to hop from boulder to boulder in dry weather.

Climbing into the remote Steindalen

Lonstinden (1506m) as seen during the passage through Steindalen

The terrain gradually becomes easier again while we descend into the Kjemadalen. The crossing of the Kjemabekken stream requires some concentration and long leaps from boulder to boulder. Three years ago I had to wade this river after a rainy episode, now it is just possible to get across with dry feet. We take a long break on the other side while we watch two other hikers descending from the Steindalen. It’s a young guy joined by a women of about 45. The boy carries an enormous bag, but hops across the river with incredible ease nonetheless. We have a chat, and turns out that he is also hiking the entire Norge pa Langs! He started around the 20th of june and thus is way faster than me (although I also made quite a few detours). But what is more… this guy is only 17 years old, and carries a monster pack of over 30kg. He has not prepared his resupplies as thoroughly as I did and bought food in Mo I Rana for the stretch all the way up to Narvik! His mother is joining him for this section. He definitely became my hero of the day They also show us the so-called “Møltebear”, or “cloudberries”, berries we did not know but which become our gastronomical highlights during the next few weeks.

Looking back to the summits surrounding Steindalen from the Kjemadalen valley

17-year old Norge pa Langs hero!

It slowly becomes overcast as we traverse above the shores of the Kjemavatnet, but it remains warm and dry. Views onto the steep and dark slopes of the mountains in Junkerdalen National Park open up. This is the place in Norway I have visited most: twice in summer and a few months ago on a brilliant day in early spring. We climb across the rock bands east of the lake and start the descent to Lonsdal. Blueberries are very abundant and we have a few stops to eat as many as we can find. When we finally arrive in the small town (rather a collection of vacation cabins), we search for a bivouac spot on the very wet terrain around the DNT-hut Lonsstua. Just like in april we go for a good shower in the Polarsirkelen hotel a bit further up the hill, and collect the second food drop I’ve sent from Snasa. I try to post a blog update, but the computer I get in the hotel has no SD-card reader. And honestly, at this point in the trip, I don’t feel like blogging too much either. It has been six weeks since I’ve done an update.

Near the Kjemabekken

After crossing the thundering Lonselva river the following morning, the climb towards the Vestre Viskisvatnet not only offers cloudberries, but also fantastic retrospective views towards the highest summits of Saltfjellet. When we cross the pass towards the Junkerdalen valley, the landscape starts to change dramatically. Other than Saltfjellet (and most regions along the Norwegian west coast), Junkerdalen is composed of sedimentary and low-grade metamorphic bedrock. Spectacular and deeply incised U-shaped valleys, witnessing to the last ice age, cut deep through the landscape. Where these valleys join, spectacular mountains with crests as sharp as razor blades form. The spectacular Solvagtind is the perfect example.

View back towards the highest summits of Saltfjellet while crossing to Junkerdalen

The U-shaped valleys of Junkerdalen come into view

The impressive Solvagtind as seen from the road near Junkerdalen Turistsenter

After a quick and easy descend we reach the Junkerdalen Turistsenter. It is sunny once again with temperatures in the lower twenties. Summer has really been giving it all in august, with hardly any rain and many splendid days. The arctic circle has been crossed and that calls for some writing! We have an ice cream on the terrace while sending postcards home. After I very long break it is nearly 3 o’clock when we get going again. The rest of the day should be easy anyway, starting with a gravel road through the lower Skaitidalen towards the DNT-hut of Trygvebu.

But that gravel road is a long forgotten access to the farms higher up. The first stretch is ok, but as the valley flanks get steeper, much of the road has been washed away be the river or simply collapsed off the steep slopes. It takes as many (very) steep traverses on loose scree and a lot of bushwhacking to fight our way up, and what looked like the easiest section of the week on the map suddenly becomes one of the hardest. It takes us one hour and a half to reach easier terrain again, and we have a very long break when arriving near the cabin.

With the olf gravel road being overgrown or simply swept away by the river, the passage through the lower Skaitidalen became a difficult endeavour

Fre is rather spent, but we push on for another hour on little trodden paths through luscious birch forest in the Skaitidalen. It’s one of those valleys where we expect to run across a moose every minute, but unfortunately it once again doesn’t happen. It’s hard to find bivouac spots in this valley, but a bit before the summer bridge across the river we find something perfect: a flat spot on a small plateau above the river, and near a nice pool at the base of a 200m waterfall! It’s a last warm summer evening and we try to go for a swim… but oh boy the water is so cold! Fre does a few strokes before hurrying back to the shore, I stop my attempt just before halfway the body…

Through the birch forest in the nice lower Skaitidalen

Camp below the waterfall

Ready for an evening dip!

The weather starts to take a 180° turn the next day. We start during the last bright spells, but it soon gets overcast in an ominous, silent atmosphere. The valley remains spectacular with the trail running through wonderful birch forest beneath impressive cliff faces. We soon reach the Argaladhytta, one of the oldest DNT-hut built early in the 20th century near the river. We take a break and then continue hiking higher into the valley, with the forest now making way for tundra terrain, moraines, deep gullies and alluvial fans at the base of the steep valley slopes. We eventually cross the subtle pass towards the Balvatnet. Further north, the weather is still bright, and the impressive peaks and glaciers of the Sulitjelma range glister in the sunlight.

Continuing upstream through the Skaitidalen valley

Continuing upstream through the Skaitidalen valley

The Sulitjelma range enjoys some last sunshine

It starts to rain just before we reach the huge Balvatnet lake. Three splendid warm, sunny and dry august weeks have come to an end, but at this moment we do not realize yet that this will be the start of a steep dive into autumn. The weather remains calm, however, and it would have been possible to raft across the lake in 2-3 hours towards the Coarvihytta. Along the western shore it’s a 16km walk to get there, but as Fre does not have a packraft I join his on this stroll. The first kilometers along the southern shore are easy, with some marshy sections with plenty of delicious cloudberries. But as the (sometimes vague) trail veers north near the western tip of the lake, multiple gullies have to be crossed, with a lot of steep up-and-downs. Fre hasn’t food his good rhythm yet and when the rain starts to intensify somewhere on the way towards the Fuglvatnet we call it a day.

Along Balvatnet

It rains for most of the night, and the next day starts with damp and grey weather with a low cloudbase and regular drizzle. The remainder of the hike towards the Coarvihytta is a tundra highway, on which we encounter a few reindeer along the way. The weather is not too inviting for any long breaks and we push on towards the gravel road at the northern side of the lake without any brakes. From there it’s a long and rather boring 20km walk down the gravel road towards Sulitjelma. Fre gets a hitchhike along the way, but – to the disbelief of these friendly people – I of course prefer to continue walking. When I eventually reach Sulitjelma in the late afternoon, Fre is enjoying fruit and a coke in front of the supermarket. We do shopping for a ‘good’ dinner in the evening, buy food for the next stretch, ánd I get my new Big River Dry bag at the small post office. We camp in the garden of an empty house next to the church (the only nice building in the ugly old mining town), and are excited to see all the upcoming nice stuff when we look at the map: the next 9 days are should become the absolute highlight of the entire trip: a raw, west-to-east crossing of the vast wilderness of Sulitjelma, Padjalanta, and last but not least: Sarek.

Reindeer on the trail towards Coarvihytta

Reaching Sulitjelma, impossible to get a picture without concrete mining buildings or electricity wires

Stages:
15/08/2012: Umbukta – N-point Kallvatnet (24km, +440/-400, 6u25)
16/08/2012: N-point Kallvatnet – Elivollan (21km, +670/-660, 6u10)
17/08/2012: Elivollan – Tespdalen (20km, +440/-450, 5u00)
18/08/2012: Tespdalen – Søre Bjøllavatnet (19km, +500/-390, 5u40)
19/08/2012: Søre Bjøllavatnet – Lonsdal (19km, +460/-660, 5u40)
20/08/2012: Lonsdal – Skaitidalen (21km, +550/-540, 5u45)
21/08/2012: Skaitidalen – W-point Balvatnet (19km, +260/-210, 5u30)
22/08/2012: W-point Balvatnet – Sulitjelma (29km, +180/-690, 6u35)

Map Umbukta – Sulitjelma

Day 71-74: One bivouac to rule them all

When talking about their summers, people in Scandinavia often refer to something magic they call “the week”. It’s the one week in the entire year which brings stable, sunny weather and high temperatures, which might reach the upper twenties. It’s the one and only week during which you can have breakfast and dinner in t-shirt on the trail day after day. A good summer may even offer two or three of those weeks, a bad one can pass without. The summer of 2012 keeps the pleasant surprise for the very end. But in mid-august, when I am about the reach the arctic circle, the weather forecast promises a dazzling series of warm, sunny days. The playground will be the Okstindan and Saltfjellet ranges.

About half an hour after leaving the camping in Hattfjelldal, I realize I have forgotten my Gore-Tex socks, which were drying in the camping building. As they were full of holes anyway and Fre, who will arrive in 5 days, will bring me a new pair, I decide not to turn back and cover the distance on my Sealskinz socks which I use as camp socks. I have another small concern: when going through the maps I have sent to Snasa, I notice I have somehow forgotten to print the maps I wanted to use to packraft across the Rossvatnet lake (later I will find them back in the post package I sent to Kautokeino). I will have to make it with a 1:200000 tourist map I have found in the village.

Not too much wind is predicted for the next two days, on which I want to do a 42km flatwater crossing of Rossvatnet, Norway’s second largest lake. My initial plan was to raft the western side of the lake, but as wind will be from the east I divert to the eastern side to have minimal waves.It’s an 11km stroll along the road until I reach the Elvneset inlet at the southern tip of the lake and start inflating my raft. The weather is cool and overcast with regular drizzle, and a very low cloudbase at about 800m. The remainder of the day passes without too much history. With almost no wind I keep paddling well into the evening hours. I beach my raft near the Tolkmoen farm and pitch my Cricket on a meadow.

A break along the Rossvatnet, with the slopes of the Okstindan range in the back

The following morning the weather remains unchanged. It’s a pity as the lake could probably offer magnificent views onto the jagged peaks and large glaciers of the Okstindan range, but I rather have low clouds here than while being in the mountains. I pass the Hjartfjellneset narrow and continue following the southeastern shore of the northern part of the enormous lake. After another 20km of flatwater I finally reach the northeastern tip of the Rossvatnet near the Granheim farm. Right at the moment I leave my raft, the clouds start to break and the Okstinden range starts to appear. These first views immediately make the hair on my arms raise. It just feels like something very special is about the happen.

Continuing along the Rossvatnet

The Granheim farm also is the trailhead of a DNT-trail following the eastern slopes of the Speltfjelldalen valley towards the Gressavasshytta cabin. The path starts to climb through birch forest towards the west ridge of the Artfjellet. I cross a group of 6 women on the way up, who complain about the grey weather they have had during their trip from Umbukta. Looks like they have made their trip 3 days too early! When I reach the ridge, a phenomenal view onto the valley, with the river meandering peacefully through enormous peat bogs, opens up. The clouds have lifted and the highest peaks of the Okstindan range, Okshornet (1901m) and Oksskolten (1916m, highest mountain in Northern Norway) opens up. Small glaciers tumble down their eastern slopes.

Waterfall on the lower Speelhtejohke river

First views onto the Okstinden range while climbing onto the Artfjellet ridge

Snow grouse on the slopes of Artfjellet

While the light gets softer I continue traversing the slopes of Artfjellet in this astounding scenery. Just before crossing the Artfjellbekken stream I find a nice, flat spot on the slope close to a big boulder. I immediately decide to stop and pitch my tarp. It is one of the finest camps of the entire trip and I stay outside long after sunset to enjoy the views, and the arrival of summers last recrudescence.

The magnificent Speltfjelldalen valley, with Oksskolten in the back, as seen while traversing the slopes of Artfjellet

Splendid bivouac high above the Speltfjelldalen

Splendid bivouac high above the Speltfjelldalen

Splendid bivouac high above the Speltfjelldalen

The valley is filled with fog the next morning, but I am high above the humid zone and pack in warm sunshine. I am now one day ahead of schedule and I know all too well what I want to day with that day: go for a bivouac on the very summit of Oksskolten (1916m), the highest mountain of the range and of entire northern Norway. I can’t keep my eyes of the summit, which still towers an impressive 1300m above me, while continuing north on the panoramic route above the splendid Speltfjelldalen.

Morning above the Speltfjelldalen

The lower Speltfjelldalen as seen while continuing the traverse above the valley

A few kilometers before reaching the Gressavasshytta I leave the trail and start my off-trail approach of the mountain. I have no idea if there is any route up marked by cairns or whatever, but looking at the maps the best route seems to be up the NW-ridge, starting from the proglacial Bretjønna lake at the snout of the huge Austre Okstindbreen, a glacier with an area of about 13km². I skirt along the Okstindtjønna lake and continue west until I finally reach the base of the mountain. Vegetation clearly becomes more scarce when I approach the snout of the rapidly retreating glacier.

The proglacial Bretjønna lake at the base of the Oksskolten climb

It is 1 o’clock when I reach the Bretjønna lake. 1200m of ascent still separate me from the summit. I take a very long break not to be up there too early. Like always before I attempt a summit bivouac, I am overwhelmed by a mix of feelings of joy and nervosity. I hide my raft and paddle between some boulders to lighten my pack and then start climbing at around 3 o’clock.

I first climb up boulders along a stream draining the Oksskoltbreen, a small glacier in a cirque higher up the northern slopes of the mountain. At around 950m I reach the base of a long section of steep rock slabs, which are often wet and slippery because of melting snowfields higher up the slopes. With great care and a detour every now and then I make slow progress until the gradient eases at around 1150m. I quickly build a cairn to find back my route tomorrow morning. After that, I easily climb further up until I reach a bowl at 1200m, where I take a break to eat and drink before continuing. The final section of the NW-ridge looks rather impressive from this perspective. While I am sitting there, I suddenly notice a couple descending. We have a quick chat. They are Swiss making a 3 week tour in Northern Norway, and call the summit better than anything they have done in the Alps. Then they start complaining about the weather during the first half of august. Well, lucky they had not planned their trip in july…

Looking back at the snout of Austre Okstindbreen

Climbing along the Austra Okstindbreen

I continue climbing on easy snowfields until I reach the NW-ridge near a pass at about 1350m, and then start tracking the ridge, which gets steeper and steeper, towards the summit. The views onto the Austre Okstindbreen are phenomenal. At about 1550m the most difficult part of the climb starts, with regular scrambles on boulders and rocks. At one point I say to myself: “well, if it gets any harder than this I better turn back”. But it doesn’t get any harder and at 1780m the ridge suddenly flattens out, a point which is marked by a huge cairn (the only one of the entire climb). The remainder of the climb is an easy hike while I start absorbing the landscape. At 6 o’clock I reach the summit of Oksskolten.

View back from the base of the steep part of the NW-ridge

The views are extraordinary and amongst the best I’ve had in my life. Immense glaciers, notably the Austre Okstindbreen, drape the entire wild hearth of the range, with summits like Tvillingtindan and Okstinden (1804m) looking like small nunataks from my perspective. The Svartisen glacier is clearly visible in the west, Saltfjellet and even Sulitjelma dominate the northern horizon, with the Gresvatnet lake deep below me in front. The huge Rossvatnet, with Børgefjell in the back, is visible in the south. And then there is of course hundreds of lakes and mountains everywhere around me I cannot name.

Fog drifts around the summit while the sun sets, making for a mysterious and dramatic atmosphere. I find a place to sleep about 10 meters below the summit; and when I open my eyes during the night, I can see stars for the first time of the trip. Autumn is on its way south and I won’t be long before the northern lights will start the cast their ghostly shadows upon the sleeping land.

Okshornet as seen from the summit of Oksskolten

Charles-Rabotbreen, with Gresvatnet in the back

The Austra Okstindbreen, with the summits of Tvillingtanden and Okstinden at the other side of the glacier

The huge Gresvatnet as seen from the summit of Oksskolten

Evening light on the summit of Okshornet

Sunset from Oksskolten, with the snout of Austre Okstindbreen deep below

Bivouac spot on the summit of Oksskolten

I wake up at 5 o’clock in the morning. The sun is already up and I have breakfast at the summit while admiring the views for one last time. It’s always wonderful to see how the landscape shows new subtleties with the sunlight coming from the other side. At 6.30 I leave the summit of Osskolten. I carefully navigate down the ridge again, take a break in the bowl and then find back my route across the rock slabs and down to the lake, which I reach a bit after 9 o’clock.

The upper part of Austra Okstindbreen with Rossvatnet in the back, as seen from Oksskolten in the morning

Ready to leave the summit of Oksskolten

My plan for the day is easy: I will descend to the Gresvatnet lake, inflate my raft and paddle across both the Gresvatnet and Over-Uman lakes towards Umbukta, where I have a food drop waiting. It should be a 5-6 hour stage from this point, and I am ready to make a good pace so I can arrive early, take a shower and enjoy a beer on the terrace. I descend off-trail along the thundering glacial Oksfjellelva river until I reach the shores of the lake.

But I have a problem. A northerly wind (headwind) has suddenly picked up, with relatively large waves sweeping across the lake. No way I can make it across in these conditions. For every lake I have prepared a ‘plan B’ at home, with some maps to allow an on-shore detour. But apparently I have forgotten to print the maps for the Gresvatnet – Over-Uman stretch. I know there is a DNT-path from Gressvasshytta towards Umbukta, but I have no idea how long it is (I vaguely remember 5 DNT-hours), and have no map are whatever I case the trail is poorly marked. But my options are few and I only have food left for today, so I start walking anyway with the intention to make it all the way to Umbukta.

Descending back to the Bretjønna lake

Downstream along the Oksfjellelva, with the Oksskolten summit in the back

I follow the southern shore of Gresvatnet of sometimes rough terrain until I reach the dam at the western end of the lake. Waymarking has been good so far, but here the DNT-volunteer seems to have been running out of paint. Nothing to be found anywhere. No mobile phone coverage to have a quick check on the general route description on the DNT-website. There is a valley towards the north and I have a bet that’s the one I have to walk through. I cross the dam and after 2km of off-trail hiking, I find a marking again! Ouf! I take a break, then continue following the valley (Storskardet), which offers highly enjoyable tundra terrain and splendid views back towards the Oksskolten summit. My hopes to make it to Umbukta are high again.

View back towards Oksskolten while hiking north through Storskardet

By 2 o’clock in the afternoon I reach the northern end of the valley. A massive view onto the Storakersvatnet opens up. But this is also the point where I realize I’m not quite there yet. I have been in Umbukta during a winter trek in april and recognize some points in the landscape. The only conclusion I can draw from this is that it is at least another 15km towards the hut. It is the warmest day of the entire summer with temperatures well into the 20’s. The wind has dropped and the sun doesn’t take a break for the entire day. I literaly get cooked when I traverse above the lake, and feel my energy level running lower and lower as I have to descend into and climb out of yet another deep gully cutting through the slopes.

I am near Grunnvasskardet, only 6km short of Umbukta (and back onto my maps), when realize I am getting dehydrated and sunstroked. It is 5 o’clock. Instead of pushing on immediately, I decide to take a long break, cook dinner and drink 2 liters of water. In the meantime the temperature starts to drop. After one hour I get going again, cross a final pass, batter through a long peat bog and eventually reach the Umbukta hut a bit before eight in the evening. I have been on the trail for well over 13 hours, covered 35km and made an accumulated altitude difference of nearly 3000m. It has been the longest hiking day I have ever made and I feel absolutely knackered when I ring the doorbell at the hut. It is a very sobering feeling that guys like Skurka can make this kind of stages for months and months.

Traversing above the Storarkersvatnet on a hot august afternoon

View back on the huge Storakersvatnet

Last meters towards Umbukta

Thor-Inge is not a standard warden. He is one of the very few people who have covered Norge pa Langs both in summer ánd in winter. I guess I must have looked rather spent when he opens the door.
He immediately askes: “where have you walked from???”.
“Today?”, I answer.
“No, no, before…”
“Lindesnes”
“Come with me”, he says. He gets the key of the Stabburet, a small authentic side building. I get it for free for the night! I also get my beer for free. I feel intensely happy when I feel my muscles relax on the terrace in the warm evening sun. Sometimes life is even better than you could have dreamt it.

Stages:
11/08/2012: Hattfjelldal – Tolkmoen (33km, +290/-130, 6h30)
12/08/2012: Tolkmoen – Speltfjelldalen (25km, +400/-40, 6h30)
13/08/2012: Speltfjelldalen – Oksskolten (20km, +1480/-410, 6h45)
14/08/2012: Oksskolten – Umbukta (35km, +660/-2050, 9h10)

Map Hattfjelldal – Umbukta

Day 64-70: A perfect week hiking and packrafting Børgefjell

If you were to ask me now what the very best part of my trip was, I wouldn’t hesitate too long. It’s hard to describe the flow I’m in after over two months on the trail, a flow where everything except the most primary things feel absolutely trivial. The only things that really matter are eating, sleeping and walking. It’s a flow where you never look ahead more than one day. Then there is also the physical aspect: my shape is better than it ever has been, and I have the feeling I can just do what I want without ever getting tired. The combination of both makes for a dangerous but addictive feeling of youthful invulnerability. It makes me feel one with my environment; the mountains, the grazing reindeer and shifting weather. It gives me a pure and overwhelming feeling of happiness. It makes me feel complete. Despite all the astounding moments I’ve experienced in the mountains, this is a feeling of another level which doesn’t occur to me too often. The last time was during an evening climb on the Pic Sacroux in the Pyrenees in 2010. And now it happened again, in the Børgefjell National Park, the gateway to the mountains of Northern Norway.

Evening on the Pic Sacroux in the Central Pyrenees, summer 2010

But first I have to make it to Børgefjell! And that soon proves to be a challenging undertaking. After the splendid evening, the weather has changed during the night along the Luru river. It is now overcast with some drizzle every now and then. Swarms of mosquitos buzz around my head. The day starts with a serious off-trail sections through pine forest and deep swamps. I ford the Medalaa river and then find connection to a series of old tractor tracks, which guide me northeast for a few kilometers up the southern slopes of Gusliklumpen.

Swamps on the way to Medaala river

The main course for today is waiting. I have to cross the Gusliklumpen plateau and descend into the Sanddalen valley, a long off-trail section. I don’t have a good day and experience the next few hours, through horrible terrain, as some of the hardest of the entire trip. First I struggle up the hill through thick forest en brush, with difficult navigation. Once I’m finally above the treeline I notice I am too far west on the hill. I traverse back to my intended route, and then fight my way further up through brush and peat. It feels like I am not making any progress. I’ve walked for over three hours when I finally reach the summit of Oystre Gusliklumpen (631m).

Climbing onto the Gusliklumpen plateau

The Sanddalen valley as seen from the Gusliklumpen plateau, nasty bushwhacking ahead

The terrain doesn’t get any better on the descent into the Sanddalen, but now at least the topography is helping me a bit and I make it down easily. I find connection to a gravel road, which I follow upstream for a few kilometers until I reach a bridge across the river. On the other side I leave the road again and climb up the steep flank of the valley on another gravel road, which I follow for nearly two boring hours through the forest. I finally reach the old farm buildings of Berg, the trailhead of the DNT-trail towards Skorovatn. Two pickups, probably of fishermen, are parked on the small parking lot. I feel my body is nearly done for today. I continue climbing through the pine forest for about half an hour until I reach a plateau (440m) near the confluence of a few streams, south of the Bergfjellet (571m) hill. It a mosquito paradise, but I don’t have the energy left to climb above the treeline.

Bivouac on the plateau south of Bergfjellet

The DNT-trail towards Skorovatn is a typical one for Central Norway: it is cross-country walking between some occasional markings rather than hiking a real trail. I climb above the treeline near the Tjønnrølet lake and the terrain gradually becomes easier after that as I climb further up the Skardfjellet and the vegetation becomes more scarce. After some rolling terrain east of the Skardfjellvatnet I get the large Reinsjøen lake within view around noon. As the lake’s name predicted I spot a solitary male bull with a huge antler near the southern shore.

View onto the Skardfjellvatnet lake

Male reindeer near the Reinsjøen lake

My mood makes a dip when it starts to rain, rain which persists for most of the afternoon. The terrain also becomes less enjoyable while I descend towards the Midtre Nesavatnet and the tundra makes way for long bushwhacking sections. I take a short break at a cabin near the lake, then continue up towards the Kroktjønna, where I reach the junction with another trail. I opt for the shortest way towards Skorovatn. After a steep, short climb away from the lake I reach the tundra level again and progress towards the Gruvfjellet becomes easy. After crossing the plateau I stop near a group of lakes just before starting the final descent into the town. It’s a bit after five o’clock in the afternoon when I arrive and the weather starts to clear. The view from my bivouac spot makes me a bit emotional: the vast Tunnsjøen lake, the first of a series of large lakes, lays at my feet bathing in the evening sun. It will mark the start of a new episode in my trip: the episode in which I will combine hiking with packrafting.

Midtre Nesavatnet, in the rain…

Bivouac on the Gruvfjellet above Skorovatn

Evening sun on the vast Tunnsjøen lake as seen from Gruvfjellet

The conditions are just perfect the following morning: clear skies and a tiny bit of wind from the west. I wake up early and start hiking a bit after seven in the morning. My plan is to make maximum use of the conditions and have a really big day. I descend to the still sleeping town of Skorovatn and start following the asphalt road towards the Tunnsjøen lake. As I want to cross both the Tunnsjøen and the Limingen lakes today by packraft, I decide to continue walking along the quiet road for a few more kilometers and put in near the Tunnsjøenelv bridge instead of near the Stallvika farms (which I initially planned). That makes my flatwater packrafting distance for today 22km instead of 27km, which could have been a bit too much for a first day.

Tunnsjøen lake near Skorovatn

I inflate my raft on the Jakopsundet lake, a western branch of the Tunnsjøen. It is a brilliant, sunny day and I paddle in t-shirt. When I near the Tunnsjøenelv bridge, I feel my progress becomes very slow and I have to fight to make it to the bridge. Below me, cristal clear water races by in a channel at least 5m deep! I have not studies my maps thouroughly, and have just tried to paddle against the outflow of the entire Tunnsjøen lake! I feel ridiculous when I take out and start walking along the road again with my packraft strapped to my shoulder. Continuing on the outflow like this, it would clearly take some time to cover the last few hundred meters towards the lake!

I walk for a kilometer until I reach the Tunnsjøen near a group of vacation cabins. And that is the real start of the packrafting: a 15km flatwater section along the northwestern shore of the lake. In intensely enjoy my sunny day on the water and enjoy the surroundings from a new perspective. Pine forests, gravel beaches, a horizon with snow-capped mountains and the small, bowler hat like island of Gudfjelløya in the middle of the lake, its summit rising nearly 500m above the water level, are my scenery for the day. Every now and then I pass a farm building, where cows curiously stare at that tiny yellow boat passing by. One bull chases me on the shore.

Paddling across the Tunnsjøen lake

A break along the Tunnsjøen lake

Around 4 o’clock I reach the northern tip of the lake. I pack my raft, take a break to eat and drink, then continue walking on the asphalt road towards the Limingen lake. It’s a 9km section, but I don’t care too much. Hardly any car passes by on the entire stretch and the views on the nearby mountains, their summits rising up to a bit over 1000m, are pretty enough not to get bored. I inflate my raft again when I reach the western tip of the lake near Gjersvika. It is already well past six in the evening when I start a 7km evening raft across the Limingen lake.

The quiet asphalt road towards Limingen

I becomes one of the finest evenings of the entire trip. The wind drops entirely and the lake, measuring 25km along its axis, becomes flat like a mirror. Every stroke brings me closer to delirium. Knowing this moment is unique, I take my time for the crossing, and remember I’m almost disappointed when I finally reach the Sagvika farm, just 2km short of Røyrvik, in the evening hours. It is still warm in the sun and I have a wash in the lake to finish the day. I’ve been on the road for well over 12 hours and covered a dazzling 41km. The coolest of this all is that I’ve almost done a double stage today… which will allow me to have some extra time in the mountains!

A perfect evening crossing of Limingen Lake

Putting out of Limingen

It gets cool (+2°C) during the night, but when I wake up the sun is already high in a perfectly clear sky. I cover the last kilometers to Røyrvik, where I am happy to find a Joker supermarket (which saves me a frustrating hitchhiking day). I buy supplies for the 4-day stretch through Børgefjell, plus an entire bag of fruit and yoghurt which I all eat in front of the shop before continuing. I subsequently walk 2km of asphalt road until I reach the bridge across Hovden, the southern outlet of the Vektaren lake. I inflate my packraft and cross the lake from south to north (5km). After taking out I continue walking for another one hour and a half along another quiet asphalt road until I reach the harbor of the Namsvatnet lake.

From this little harbor, there is a regular boat service across the lake towards the Børgefjell National Park. But I spot something else: a little building in the harbor is open to visitors… and after a short inspections, I am happy to find a shower inside. I don’t hesitate to have a good wash (first shower in 10 days), and also use the electricity sockets to recharge my camera batteries and phone for an hour. It’s already nearing 4 o’clock when I finally start crossing the lake by packraft.

Some slight showers are active around the lake and a headwind from the northwest, causing small breaking waves, has picked up while I cross. I paddle as hard as I can to win the fight, and beach my raft near a cabin about 100m east of the lake’s dam. A couple is renovating the entire building. They invite me in for a cup of tea and some cake. The man knows the area very well and we go through my plans together. He discourages me to try rafting the Namsen river downstream of the dam because of very low water levels. We work out an alternative route along the Karivatnan and Sjurtjønnin lakes to climb into Børgefjell.

Putting out of the Namsvatnet lake

I follow the river downstream along a jeep track up to Kanflyen, and then climb up a very faint trace through thick brush until I reach the Karivatnan lakes. The stream connecting both lakes makes for a good wade. The terrain gradually eases when I climb further up through birch forest towards the Sjurtjønnin lakes. It is already half past seven in the evening and the retrospective views in the soft evening sunlight are stunning. I continue climbing up until I reach the western tip of a small lake (699m) above the treeline, where I pick a bivouac spot at the western tip of the lake. Two fishermen from Trondheim pass by in the evening and tell me about the bad fishing conditions this year. Because of the cold weather in july the water is colder than normal, which apparently is very bad for the appetite of the fish. The evening brings some dramatic skies. I’m in a good mood. Tomorrow, I’ll be in the real mountains again. Unless most hikers staying in the less mountaineous eastern part of Børgefjell, I’ll try a 3-day off-trail crossing of the seldom visited western mountain ranges, which should offer the most dramatic scenery of the entire National Park.

Climbing into Børgefjell via the Sjurtjønnin lakes

Evening view back towards the Sjurtjønnin lakes and Namsvatnet

Dramatic evening skies from the bivouac at lake 699m, my Cricket can be seen near the tip of the lake

After all these fine days I wake up with rain again the following morning. I make the best of it by sleeping long and reading a bit in my book. By noon it gets dry and I decide to leave. After a short climb I reach the Gyojnedhsealma pass. A traverse on slippery rock slabs high above the Bleikarvatnet follows, and after crossing a second pass I descend towards the large Jengelskardvatnet lake. There is a good breeze from the northwest, but I decide to inflate my packraft anyway and fighting agains the crosswinds I make it to the other side of the lake. I portage the outflow for a few hundred meters and then continue rafting the length of the Langvatnet lake. By the time I reach the northern tip of this lake the weather has suddenly started to clear.

Descending towards the Jengelskardvatnet

Ready to raft across the Jengeskardvatnet lake!

I pack my raft again and start climbing in a northeastward direction along the Kyllingen lakes and towards the pass north of Store Kjukkelfjellet (1030m). From this pass, a massive view east on the immense Tjohkelenjabke plateau, infested by swamps, small lakes and probably mosquitos, opens up. The views keep improving as I cross towards the Vajavatnet lake via a little-known ledge. The mountain scenery is now dense and wild, with the Vajavatnet to a large extent still covered with ice and with small glaciers draping the eastern slopes of Gaksfjellet. I have to wade across the outflow of the lake, and then steeply climb on rocky terrain in a N-NNE-direction to the pass separating points 1225m and 1219m.

View back towards Langvatnet and Jengelskardvatnet in clearing weather

The Tjohkelenjabke plateau as seen from the ledge

View back towards Vajavatnet while climbing up to the pass

I leave my bag on the pass and climb up the latter summit, which dominates the Tjohkelenjabke plateau and all its water. But even more impressive, and presumably even one of the finest views I’ve ever seen in Scandinavia, is the view north through the Bissiedurrie valley. The large Nordre and Søre Bisseggvatnet lakes, connected by a river serpenting its way through the valley, rest deep in an impressive mountain scenery of glacier remnant, scattered snowfields and rugged mountains, the highest summits enveloped by clouds. It’s the view which I still automatically associate with the name Børgefjell. The mountain scenery in this little known National Park is much more wild than I had imagined.

View back onto the Tjohkelenjabke plateau, with the ledge towards Vajavatnet to the right

The wild scenery around the Bissiedurrie valley as seen from summit 1216m

I stay on the top for quite a while before descending back to the pass, picking up my pack and then sliding down a series of steep snowfields towards the Søre Bisseggvatnet lake. A large herd of wild reindeer races by on the way. I walk towards the northern tip of the lake, wade the powerful inflow and find a place to camp right at the other side. Because of my late start it is already near 8 o’clock in the evening when I get there. I cook, continue reading a bit and go to sleep.

Descending towards the Søre Bisseggvatnet in Central Børgefjell

Bivouac along the inflow of Søre Bisseggvatnet

I have put my alarm clock early the following morning, but when I wake up at 6 o’clock it is calm weather with a very low cloudbase, so I continue sleeping a bit. By 8 o’clock the weather has changed dramatically: the clouds break and makes way for a perfectly clear sky. I start packing as fast as I can: I have a dream today and that dream is to climb Kvigtinden (1699m), the highest mountain in Børgefjell. Its summit is less than three hours of walking away!

Not a single cloud remains when I start hiking. It looks like it’s going to be an extraordinarily fine day. I climb up towards the Kvigvatnet lake (1090m) through increasingly rough and rocky terrain. I then have to traverse the slopes above the frozen lake to be able to climb towards the pass (1250m) northwest of the Kvigtinden summit. But most of this traverse above is still covered by an extensive snowfields, which is icy and hard like bone because of the overnight frost. The slope is about 25-30°. At a certain point I cannot progress any further because I would just slide down into the lake. I don’t have crampons nor an ice axe, but I work out a different solution: by scratching tiny stands in the icy with the metal tip of my trekking poles, I am able to provide myself with the necessary grip for my feet. It takes a while, but after some time the steepest section is behind me and I can continue in a more comfortable way.

Climbing up towards the Kvigvatnet

View back onto the steepest part of the traverse on icy snow above the frozen Kvigvatnet

I soon reach the pass an descend on the other side on endless snowfields. It’s amazing how much snow remains still in the mountains in august. When I reach a cluster of frozen lakes (1180m) I decide to leave my pack and try go summiting Kvigtinden (1699m). I take a very short break to eat something and then start racing up as fast as I can. Some grey stratocumulus clouds are already appearing and I really want my first big mountain of the trip (ánd my views from the summit!).

Climbing the north ridge of Kvigtinden (1699m)

I easily gain the northeast ridge at an altitude of 1350m, and start tracking the ridge towards the summit. Two rock bands at 1400-1450m call for some easy scrambling, but I close in fairly easily. It’s a race against time though with clouds already hugging the summit every now and then. The final 20m are a bit less clear again with some easy scrambles. By 11.40am I have reached the highest mountain of Børgefjell and the first major peak of Northern Norway. I am ecstatic. Huge crevassed glaciers tumble down the eastern slopes of the mountains, with horrifying bergschrund where they meet the bedrock at the upper side. At their lower end the mountains make way for the endless rolling hills and wastelands of eastern Børgefjell. Through the thickening clouds I only get scattered views of the mountain scenery in the north and the west, but what I see of it is wild and deserted. Yep, Børgefjell surely is one of these areas I really want to visit again in the future.

The summit cairn of Kvigtinden (1699m), Børgefjell’s highest mountain

A happy man on the summit of Kvigtinden

The glaciers on the eastern flanks of Kvigtinden as seen from the summit towards the south ridge

After some time on the summit I descend back to my backpack and take a long lunch break after the intense morning. Good I did the race: it has become overcast with a cloudbase below the highest summits. A steep descend on snowfields and rock slabs guides me down towards the Austre Masskardsvatnet lakes, which I round along the northern side. I continue east, wade the outflow of the Simskardvatnet lake, and then start traversing the vast tundra plateau east of Simskardvatnet at an altitude of about 900m. The walking is as perfect as it can be: easy, rolling off-trail tundra terrain, top-class mountain scenery in the west and dramatic skies with showers ravaging the main Børgefjell ridge, but quickly dying away when descending the eastern slopes. I continue my dry walk in the rain shadow while admiring the raw interaction between all the elements of a true wilderness. Wow.

Steep descend towards the Austre Masskardvatnet

Searching for a place to wade the Simskardelva river, the rolling terrain of eastern Børgefjell in the back

Break along one of the many streams on the tundra plateau east of Simskardfjellet

The upper Mjølkelva valley and the eastern slopes of the Golvertinden range

The view gets even better when I climb the tiny Giedtietjahketje (958m) summit, with a panoramic view on the entire northern half of the Børgefjell range, the glaciers sliding down the eastern slopes of Golvertinden and giving birth to wild, milky rivers like the Mjølkelva, which thunder down through tundra and birch forest, set to flames by the afternoon sun peeping from in between the towering cumulonimbus clouds. I exclaim my wonder, my marvel, my bewilderment aloud for hours and hours to every reindeer or snow bunting wanting to hear it.

After descending towards a small lake (717m) on the plateau northeast of the Giedtietjahketje (958m) hill, the evening is of an extraordinary beauty and just finishes the job: a perfect walk on a perfect day.

The Mjølkelva river searching its way down towards Susendalen

Beautiful evening along the shores of lake 717m

Beautiful evening along the shores of lake 717m

Beautiful evening along the shores of lake 717m

I descend into the Susendalen valley on a very wet old jeep track the following morning. To finish the Børgefjell adventure, I still have something exciting on the menu: packrafting the Susna river. I put in near the Sormo farm and immediately pass from the one rapid towards the next, all of them fairly easy PR2-3 water. Although there are roads and scattered farms on both sides of the river, I don’t experience this proximity of civilization as troublesome. The roads can seldom be seen from the water and there is virtually no traffic. On the other hand, I enjoy some very nice views on the summits of northern Børgefjell from my raft. The river continues meandering through forest and grassland with gravel bars in most bends. After a bit more than an hour I reach the Ivarrud bridge. As the river gets a lot wilder further downstream with PR5 water in a series of ravines, I take out and start portaging along a quiet gravel road on the left bank.

Putting in into the Susna River

I continue walking on this road for 11km until I reach the confluence of the Susna river and the Unkerelva river. The river becomes calmer again from this point and I put in again. The character is completely different and much wilder than on the first stretch, however, with the river running through densely forested ravines, with almost no sign of roads or farms. Because of the bedrock running into the river, with narrows at some points, the rapids also have a different character. As I don’t want wet clothing, I portage the wildest one, a PR3-4 just upstream of the Nerli farm, where the river gets squeezed through a 5-10m narrow with a serious and very fast wave train. I get some water into my raft in a rapid a bit upstream of the Kolmila bridge. The rafting is great fun though and way too fast I reach the outskirts of Hattfjelldal, where I have to take out.

Portaging the rapid upstream of Njerli

I pitch my tent on a small, cozy camping at the southern side of the village and go to the supermarket to go shopping for the next stretch towards Umbukta. I also send some maps back home. And of course I have a hamburger at the local service station. I rains slightly during the evening. I get my laundry done with a real washing machine, take a shower, and then just chill inside of the camping building with a can of coke and a bag of chips while watching athletics at the Olympics in London. Oh boy, what an incredibly intense week it had been. And when I watch the weather forecast for the coming week, I immediately know the trip is growing towards its momentum. A long series of brilliant sunny days is predicted. It only takes seconds before a new big plan is born: I want to go sleeping on the summit of Okskolten (1912m), the highest mountain in northern Norway.

Stages:
04/08/2012: Luru River – Nordelva plateau 440m (27km, +870/-620, 7h30)
05/08/2012: Nordelva plateau 440m – Gruvfjellet (24km, +820/-510, 7h05)
06/08/2012: Gruvfjellet – Sagvika (41km, +310/-640, 10h05)
07/08/2012: Sagvika – Sjurtjønnin lake 699m (28km, +380/-100, 6h30)
08/08/2012: Sjurtjønnin lake 699m – Søre Bisseggvatnet (21km, +790/-710, 5h40)
09/08/2012: Søre Bisseggvatnet – Lake 717m (26km, +1260/-1320, 8h20)
10/08/2012: Lake 717m – Hattfjelldal (35km, +120/-610, 6h30)

Map Snasa – Hattfjelldal