Feeling lonely was one of the
fears I had when I started the tour. I did not know beforehand how I would cope
with it. Remote wilderness and deserted trails, lonely nights in tents, no
company in doubtful situations, and all this for a long time - so this was part
of the experience of going solo.
In general it wasn't that
bad. There are people on the trails. Less, rather few, in the north - and crowds
on the northern part of Kungsleden. Further south you will meet fewer people,
those hiking Kungsleden or sections of it. When you go to huts for an overnight
stay you will always find someone to talk to. But since I did not go further south beyond Hemavan I did not experience the really lonely and deserted parts of the trail... a challenge still to take.
I do not mind being on my own
while hiking. I feel fine spending the day out in nature and being on my own
all day, walking at my pace. In the evenings I prefer to have some company, to share experience,
photos, plans and ideas and maybe food while talking. So I spent many more nights in mountain huts than in
my tent. I met great people. And some of them I remember well...
Anna, a young Norwegian woman
I met at Vuomahytta, was on her way with her beautiful dog, a Samojede. She and
'Levis' had been hiking for quite a while already. Anna was interesting
company. I listened to her ever changing plans: Hiking at night because it was
cooler for the dog. Going to Narvik to a hotel for a while and relax. No,
better going back home and starting some kind of occupational training or
school. Picking up her next supply package from Setermoen - but how? taxi? or
rather take a bus, or hitch hike? - and continuing the hike... I've never met
someone changing plans and options so frequently - in moments between now and
then. But somehow I felt sympathy with her. Wasn't I myself doubting options and
questioning my plans all the time?
Last time we met was near
Altevass - it looked like she had been waiting for me - discussing her options
to pick up her supply package from Setermoen. I tried to put her mind at ease. My
advice was to get into contact with the Huskyfarm at Altevass for an overnight
stay and arrange a lift - to and fro - with them. I myself stayed at
Altevasshytta. Björn Klauer's Huskyfarm is another 5 km to go and off the way
to Lappjordhytta.
There were also two young
Norwegians at the hut (Vuomahytta). Having just finished military service they
had packed backpacks (more than 40 kg each) for a four-week outing in the wilderness. After two weeks this was their first night in a hut. They were fishing fanatics - one of them, Kjell, also worked as a fishing guide
- and more than once I heard about the nearby lake being the country's best röding fishing location. They showed me
videos of great catches on their mobiles - and losses - while measuring the length
a huge fish just jumped back to freedom.
Talking about the absence of
reindeer - I wondered I hadn't seen any so far - they told me the herds had
been taken down to Sweden; there were less mosquitoes.
During my stay at Altevasshytta a Sami - the typical knife hanging from his belt - suddenly stood in the door. "Hej, fjällvandrarar, have you seen any reindeer, and if, whereabouts?" When I told him, I hadn't seen any and they were all in Sweden due to the mosquitoe plague, he couldn't stop laughing. "No, no, they have many more mosquitoes down there in Sweden. The reindeer are very high up in the mountains in cooler areas to get away from the mosquitoes." This was by the way the last of fair weather days. The very next day - in wind and rain - I watched reindeer in huge numbers.
Kjell and his friend left with their fishing gear after lunch when I went to bed. I regret not taking any photos - there was a beautiful light out there when they walked down to the lake, their shadow like shapes standing out against the pastel-coloured sky.
