Apparently it’s cinnamon bun day today. I’ve become blasé about most holidays and celebrations and traditions, especially the more commercial ones. But Ingrid, young and full of energy and enthusiasm, baked wonderfully fluffy cinnamon buns for us.

Second session of my embroidery course. The focus today was on different embroidery stitches, at a very basic level. The course had no prerequisites so we’re really starting from almost zero here. I have used all of the stitches in the past so I didn’t learn anything new today. It didn’t feel polite to just skip the exercise, and I tend to be polite towards people who deserve it, so I kept following along, but I switched to my self-portrait from last week when it all felt too slow.

The self-portrait was meant to be our homework, but with me gone hiking for four days and spending the night before packing, I really had no time to work on it. There will be new homework for the upcoming weeks, so the self-portrait will have to wait until the course is finished.

Trummelsberg to Skinnskatteberg, 15 km.

I woke up to rain today.

Actually I first woke up several times during the night because of my mattress, which apparently still has a slow leak, even after my repairs. The first night I only noticed it when it was almost morning. Yesterday and today, though, it kept waking me. Given the choice between being cold and uncomfortable for the rest of the night, or getting off the mattress and pumping it up again before spending several hours in hopefully uninterrupted comfort, I judged it absolutely worth the effort. So I really haven’t had the best sleep these past few nights. I’ve been spending nine or ten hours in bed but still not feeling fully rested by morning.

It rained off and on all night, and was still raining when I woke up. The weather report promised rain all day, so there wasn’t much to be done. I packed everything except the tent itself without getting out of the tent (except to water the pines). It felt like packing took about twice as long this way. When I finally crawled out, the rain had mostly stopped, although everything was of course still wet and the trees were dripping. But at least I didn’t have to pack my tent in actual rain, which was nice.

The landscape was a bit more open today, and the flora was more alpine. Beautiful views that reminded me of my hikes in Jämtland.

Lingonberries abounded again, which I utilized for breakfast of course. I’ve never seen so many lingonberries growing so densely anywhere before. I can now understand how it’s possible to harvest and sell them on an industrial scale.

There was a bit of walking along a road. No traffic, and scenic views of meadows made it quite pleasant. Plus it took me past some houses where I could ask for a top-up of my water supply again. I might make it without, but why take the risk.

The constant rain I was threatened with never actually materialized. The air was saturated with moisture, though, and most everything was wet, so technically maybe this counted as rain. It didn’t affect me much, except for taking shorter snack breaks and timing them so I could find some kind of roof over my head.

At Bockhammar the trail passed Ebba Brahes lusthus, a noblewoman’s gazebo from the early 17th century. Structurally it was in surprisingly good state, for a small wooden construction, and currently under renovation. The inside looked more worn. I wonder if the murals are four-hundred-year-old originals.

I don’t think I saw a single other person on the trail today. That’s one clear benefit of hiking in less than ideal weather. Instead I spotted a tiny little mouse, who ran into the low shrubs next to the path when it heard me approach. And then it just stopped there. Its survival method was to make itself as small and quiet and immobile as possible, so any predators watching out for movement wouldn’t see any. I could see it only because I knew exactly where the movement stopped.

And then I was back at the car and my hike was over.

Learnings and evaluation:

The Bruksleden was a pretty pleasant trail to hike. Doesn’t beat Kinnekulle or the Fells, but definitely more to my taste than the Kuststigen. Nothing spectacular or particularly memorable, but nice all the way. I might come back and do some other sections of it at some point.

The new pack had its pros and cons. The light weight was definitely nice. The lack of pockets wasn’t hard to get used to. The few features it had all worked very smoothly. And the pack sat much better on my back than the Lundhags Spirit I’ve used in the past. The Spirit always feels like it is leaning away from me, no matter how carefully I pack the heavy items close to me and how much I adjust the straps. I especially notice it when skiing: when my torso swings back and forth, the Spirit keeps slapping my upper back.

The only downside I noticed was that it has stiffer straps with harder edges, compared to the softer straps on the Spirit. I got some really sore spots on my hips where most of the weight rested on the hip belt. When I got home, I saw actual bruises and even a slight rash where the belt rubbed my skin through all the layers of clothing. Maybe I need to find some seamless underwear for next time, or add some extra padding somehow.

My packing list has reached perfection. I packed nothing that I didn’t use, apart from the first aid kit and compass, both of which I’m happy to not need. The amount of food was just right.

From around Morbyn to past Trummelsberg, 18 km.

The first morning’s lingonberry brunch spoiled me for all other ways of eating porridge. Both yesterday and today I waited with breakfast until I got to a good lingonberry patch. Of which there is no shortage in this region. I’m not a lingon expert so I don’t know if there are good years and bad years, like there are with cherries and apples, or if they’re robust enough to give a good harvest regardless. But the berries have been truly plentiful.

Also, the time it takes for porridge to cook is just about the same it takes for me to pick a generous heap of berries.

As usual it’s taken me several days to really get into the hiking flow. The first day or two I always think too much about kilometres and hours, worrying if I’m making a good enough pace, if I’ll get there by dark, etc. After a while that all settles and I know that it’ll all work out, and I can enjoy myself even more. So today was the best day of walking.

Today was a Saturday so there were more people on the trail. Yesterday I met a single hiker; today there were two hikers, four berry-pickers, two trail runners and seven day trippers. The runners and day trippers were all in the same area around Landsberget which is apparently a popular destination. There was a picnic area, a bunch of hammocks in the forest, and a viewing tower.

The tower was unfortunately closed and the bottom ladder removed. The runners climbed up anyway along the structure itself and I was just contemplating doing the same – it didn’t look too hard – but just then a family with kids arrived and I didn’t think it would be a good example to set. Eh, the views probably weren’t that special anyway.

Near Trummelsberg I passed the grounds of an old ironworks with the rather strange field of black and white pillars. It looks like it could be a modern art installation, but turned out to be the (restored) remains of a coal warehouse. The pillars look like they’re made of sloppily cast modern concrete blocks, but it’s apparently old slag bricks.

I had difficulty finding a camping spot for tonight. I walked past a spot right in Trummelsberg because I thought it was too close to houses and other people, and after that it was all dense, rocky pine forest, with not a single flat patch of ground. When I thought it was getting too late and dark I just left the path and wandered around until I found enough flattish rock-free space for my tent. There was not enough for anything else, though, so I set the stove on a rock and perched myself on another rock next to it.