Now it truly rains.
When the alarm goes off, everyone else is, of course, still asleep. I have the kitchen all to myself and later
move there to pack, so as not to rustle about among the sleeping.
Outside it’s more of a misty drizzle, with a light tailwind. Not too bad,
really. At last my rain gear can fulfill its intended purpose. Not much of a
climb but I move slowly. Boards are slick, rocks are slick, mud is slick, grass
is slick. There are hardly any other surfaces. Everything is slippery. And there
are rocks. So very many rocks. I stop a few times, though it’s hardly pleasant
to sit on wet stones in the rain. From time to time, through breaks in the
cloud, higher ridges show themselves.
I reach the Tjäkta hut surprisingly quickly, about halfway along, looming
on the far side of the river. Some people are packing their tents by the trail.
Others come from the direction of the hut, packs on their backs. I’m not the
only fool climbing into the thick mist toward the Kungsleden’s highest pass. We trudge in a loose line
through mud and stones. Around us, a dreamlike fog and patches of lingering
snow. Rain and meltwater
leave the ground soaked through.
At the pass, a small emergency hut stands crowded with damp hikers, all
desperate to dry out. We have our lunch breaks and swap trail impressions.
On the other side, the descent is steep and muddy, with those climbing up
and those sliding down trying not to take each other out. The rain seems to have stayed behind us. When
the steepest part is done, the walking eases; some stones are even beginning to
dry. If only there weren’t so many of them. The mountains emerge more
clearly into view, though from across the broad valley a dark cloud is already rising.
I’m glad I didn’t rush to shed my rain gear like the others. This time, it pours in earnest.
By the time I’ve checked myself into the hut at Sälka, the sun is
shining. Utterly absurd. The wardens lend me a sewing kit, and I mend the
fastening on my gaiters. Their main function is not so much to keep water out
as to guard against mosquitoes on that little strip of leg left exposed when
crouching between shoe and trouser hem.
I stock up on food for the next ten days, then join a group of Swedish
ladies in the sauna. Yes, there’s a sauna here! Afterwards we swap stories in the kitchen with
Australians and Danes. The hut fills completely; hardly space left to scatter
my gear.
Today: 27.8 km.
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