A Summer in the Mountains- Part Three
Before we left for the hike we joked that this was going to be the worst summer ever. Jerre and I were not under any veil of ignorance, and knew that parts of this trail would just suck a little. But before you start any journey you have expectations. Sometimes they’re unrealistic, and sometimes they are very realistic. However, no amount of researching the trails and knowing what you might come across can prepare you for the emotions felt in real time. This section was very difficult for us. We faced long days and harsh conditions, and the monotony of trail life started to feel like a chore more than a vacation. It was here that we had hit a wall.
Durrenskalet, Klimpfjäll
After a very relaxing rest day, we were ready to hit the trail again. After the horrors of the ‘Valley of the Shadow of Roads’ we were pumped to get back into nature. Unfortunately, the first day started with a 7 km stretch of road. While it wasn’t a surprise, it was very boring. In the heat of the day we walked up to the base of the ski hill where we would finally re-enter the forest. With a sigh of relief we took our first steps back into nature and directly into...swamps!
Further south we had faced many swamps and marshes, but were spoiled by well kept trails and boardwalks. Whomever is in charge of this area did not have the same caring thoughts in mind. After a while it really began to weigh on our feet, so when our planned campsite came into view we were exactic. An angry looking rain cloud started coming toward us, forcing us to quickly set up camp, and huddle in our little fortress. Luckily for us it passed quickly and left a beautiful sunny sky in its wake. We tentatively poked our heads out of the tent to find a slight breeze coming in. Just enough to keep most of the bugs away. We washed in the adjacent lake, and basked in the sun before settling down for the night.
A quick side note about Swedish summer. During this time we enjoy things like the midnight sun. But it’s not really summer until the mosquitos come out. We had somehow missed out on them, until now.
The next day started off slow, and dragged on, but we ended up exactly where we needed to be. After the first 11 km it was time for lunch. The swampy trails were unrelenting, and we needed some hard earned calories before getting back on the trail. The county of Jämtland in Sweden is interesting. No matter how remote you feel, you are always relatively close to safety, even if it’s a road that sees only one car per day. So I can’t say I was surprised when we walked past the dead end of a dirt only to come to a farm house with a barn. Now, this is a common sight here in Jämtland. There are many old farm houses in remote areas from the 1700’s when the government issued land to those willing to colonize it. Unlike many of the abandoned farm houses, this one was thriving. The lawn was fully manicured, the house was decorated with wind chimes, the garden was colorful, and the barn had a fresh coat of paint. The owner of the house was happily trimming the grass around the pond, and didn’t notice that we were gawking at his property. I half expected his wife to come out and offer us fika, but we just walked passed the haven and continued on our way.
The next part of the day was spent going up from the forest. By the time we made it above the tree line the weather was coming in hard. At first it was only wind, but just 600 meters from a cabin, the rain started. While we had intended to go further than the cabin that day, we both knew it wasn’t wise. The wind and rain continued throughout the night, and while we lay in the cabin listening and feeling the strength of it, we knew we had made the right decision to stay.
Sometimes when I’m walking I try and break down the trail into smaller portions as a way to make the day more digestible. And sometimes during these internal rationalisations I shout, ‘Well you’re still going to have to walk the whole thing, so get over it!’ It was one of those days. Thirty kilometers is thirty kilometers no matter how you cut it. Now, when I’m reading my journal trying to get an idea of what actually occurred that day, it’s a bit of a blur. I do remember traversing a beautiful red rock mountain, but I also remember being too grumpy to enjoy it. Jerre really kept me going that day, mentally. He tried his best to entertain me, and keep my mind off of my sore feet. The two of us have a rule, only one of us is allowed to have a melt down at a time. That way the other one can keep us going. I can’t say that it always works, but thankfully on this day it did.
local rain (but not on us)
The next day was another long day, with a big reward at the end. After days of wet swampy trails, my shoes were a bit squigy, but my merino wool socks kept my feet warm, regardless. When we sat down to have lunch it began to rain, and continued to rain for the rest of the day. As we made our way above the tree line a strong wind began to hit us as well. There’s something about hiking in bad weather that pushes you forward. I think it’s the desire to get to where you need to go, and the need to keep warm. We knew we were heading to a cabin, so we looked forward to a night of shelter. Jerre’s friends planned to meet us there if the weather wasn’t too ‘yucky’. As the cabin came into view we had no idea if they were there or not, so when we finally arrived to the cabin, the smell of burning firewood outside the door put a smile to our cold, wet faces. Jesias and Sebastian were inside hanging out with a fire already roaring, and a big spread of snacks on the table. We spent the evening playing cards, chatting, and snorkelling? Yes, Jesias loves to snorkel and the abundant mountain lakes and streams offer chilly swimming and the possibility to spot some fishies. He brought his wetsuit and snorkel mask and Jerre couldn’t help going out to stick his head under the water.
The next morning was a lazy one. Getting out of a routine was just what the doctor ordered, and we didn’t leave the cabin until noon. We headed down to the village of Klimpfjäll. Our trail was going to pass through there anyway so we thought we would grab a burger. We ended up at an Italian restaurant, and each of us demolished a big pizza. Afterwards, we took a short walk up to our campsite, and set up for the evening. While the spot we chose was beautiful, it was teeming with mosquitoes and gnats, so we hid in our tent for the rest of the evening.
If we hadn’t felt the lull before, we really felt it the next day. Many of the days of this section started to feel like a chore. The routine and monotony of thru hiking was really getting to us, and today it came to a head. My journal entry is less a recap of the day and more an emotional rant about the ‘lull’ that we were both feeling.
The next day was a bit better. It seemed that we were coming to an upswing of our emotional journey. We ended up going a little bit off trail which was fine until we went back into the tree line. There we faced lappish willow (Salix lapponum) covered marshes that would have been hilarious to watch us struggle through. The combination of trying to get through the large plants and trying not to step into the water made it an acrobatic challenge.
The next day was an experience. It was one of the most challenging days we’ve had so far, but unlike the other challenging days we grabbed this one by the horns. The day began by going off the trail and up a steep mountain. We made our way up and traversed across the peaks. On the other side we headed down hill, in search of a trail. With some difficulty, we managed to find it and make our way into the first valley. By this time our blood sugar level was very low so we decided to have some lunch. The entire day had been spent in a strong head on wind, and cold wind at that (are you noticing a trend here?). We needed to stop and had no sheltered area. Luckily, my boyfriend is a bit of a mountain man. Jerre used his poncho as a tarp and set up a shelter so we could get some relief from the elements and take a rest and eat. After that we went up towards our second peak of the day, and this one was a doozy. We faced 40 degree inclines with no designated trail, just cairns to show you the direction. Taking the trail ten feet at a time, I allowed myself to take mini breaks very often. By the time the trail started to soften a little I had gotten my second wind and pushed my way to the top. From there the view was...non existent. A heavy fog lid sat on top of the mountain. Does that sound disappointing? Because it isn’t. Being in a fog like that is surreal. You know that you’re high up on a mountain top, but with only a ten foot radius around you as a reference you could be anywhere. Together, we made our way down and rounded the lake that would lead us to a cabin for the night, and were ecstatic to find heaps of firewood so we could dry our clothes and warm up.
The last day was challenging for another reason. Yes, we were faced with steep climbs again, and yes we still had strong winds and occasional rain, but we also had a real treat waiting for us at the end. Jerre’s dad and his wife, Inger, would be waiting for us at the trailhead with the car, a six pack of soda, a bag of chips, a bar of chocolate, and bananas. The day seemed endless. Jerre and I wanted nothing more than a day to rest our bodies and our minds. Somehow knowing they were waiting there for us made the day drag on endlessly. We did eventually make it to them, and they greeted us with lot’s of hugs (though I’m sure we smelled terrible). Stefan and Inger prepared a feast of barbequed food and homemade potato salad for dinner followed by fresh watermelon and pineapple.
The next morning over our breakfast of bacon and eggs we showed them some of the pictures and footage that we’ve taken so far. As we scrolled through the individual memories and began to reflect on all of the experiences that we’ve had so far, we both began to feel inspired again. It was like a light came back into our eyes. We were ready to get back on the trail and have more experiences, and keep getting closer to our goal of Treriksröset. But not before getting more bacon and eggs, and some time with family. We’ll be heading back out on the trail on Sunday morning. Happy trails!
a sign that we're on the right trail
