Diagonal rain lashes
the window, and I’m glad I didn’t camp last night.
It’s drizzling when I
start walking, but not for long. The river next to the trail forms an
impressive cascade of waterfalls. Bumblebees nap on bell-shaped flowers. Soon
it starts raining properly, though a sliver of blue sky appears over Norway. My
trail dives stubbornly into the grey mist.
The first four
kilometers are uphill, and I crawl like a snail, yesterday’s fatigue still in
my legs. Dutch girls who started later soon trot past me. The ground is all
streams and wet moss. Everything is soaked, and since it’s cold, my feet
quickly feel uncomfortable. But there’s nothing to do but squelch onward.
When the trail
finally descends, blue patches open in the clouds above Sweden, too. I reach a
wide valley filled with pools and meandering streams. Vast open space. A
buzzard circles overhead. The sun comes out properly, and I celebrate by
feasting on instant noodles by a stream. The terrain is drier and I walk
faster. Snowy peaks are visible in Norway; green slopes in Sweden. Wet toes don’t
end there, though, because here there are no more bridges and two wide rivers
must be forded. Luckily, they’re shallow.
Below, a lake
shimmers, with Sulitjelma’s glaciers visible on the Norwegian side. The last
kilometer before the hut is slow, thanks to ripe blueberries and cloudberries.
A young man greets me
at the hut with a glass of juice: “Welcome to Pieskehaure!” There’s a sauna, a
shop and I get a private room. Few people come here in summer; it’s mainly a
winter destination. The rooms are spacious, each with a stove, a wash corner,
and plenty of room for gear. The dining room has lots of books, very cozy.
The shop sells beer:
buy two, pay for one. And of course, a sauna without beer is unthinkable. We
head there together with the Dutch girls. Afterwards, I sit outside on a bench,
watching the changing colors of the clouds. Dutch sauna culture, apparently,
does not involve beer.
Today: 32.5 km.
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