Hälleforsnäs to Hagtorp. Yesterday this stage was 16.5 km but today it took me 18.5 to walk.

First I got an extra kilometre by starting walking without checking the updated weather forecast. Yesterday, the forecast promised rain for today, but only from late morning. When I was packed up and ready to go at around 7:40, I saw the clouds but didn’t think that rain would be imminent. It started raining before I had even walked ten minutes. I started thinking about where I could find shelter, but quickly realised that the best and closest shelter was back at the camping site. So I walked back, through the rain. Gained absolutely nothing but getting thoroughly wet.

It rained for almost two hours. Luckily I had my Kindle.

Afterwards the woods were, of course, very very wet. Not so much the ground, because the soil hereabouts drains quickly, but the bushes and grasses can hold on to a lot of water. Walking through wet forest is like I’m trying to use my trousers to wipe dry all the bilberry bushes. The trousers at least dry quickly, but the water also wicks into my socks and boots, and those keep all the water inside. Yes, I could wear waterproof trousers, but I don’t like the way they feel. Unless it’s cold outside, I’d rather be a bit wet.

Today I learned that lingonberry bushes dry out first, with their waxy-leathery leaves. Bilberry bushes come in quick-drying and slow-drying varieties, because some were clearly drier than others. Bog bilberries were the slowest to dry and seemed to actively hold on to drops of water. And heather almost doesn’t get wet to begin with.

There is a locally famous “rocking boulder” a few kilometres in. Why they didn’t seize the obvious opportunity to call it a “rocking rock”, I have no idea.

I went to see it, of course, but to my disappointment, it did not rock at all, no matter how hard I pushed. Either it needs more weight, or it’s gotten jammed.

The rest of the day was pleasant, unexciting walking. More mindfulness, like yesterday. It went easier today, after all my practise.

Here’s me having bread and butter and a boiled egg for lunch. It took a good while to find a spot where I could sit down for a meal – wherever I looked, it was just wet bushes.

In the afternoon there was another surprise burst of rain. And I had again just passed a shelter, so this time I didn’t even hesitate – turned back as soon as I felt the first drop and ran back, and had my second lunch at the shelter instead of the exposed lakeside cliff I had been aiming for. Another extra kilometre gained.

Sörmlandsleden stage 22, from Hagtorp to Hälleforsnäs, 16.5 km.

This stage has been blocking me for weeks and weeks. No way to get there by public transport, of course, and 16.5 is too much for a one-day out-and-back hike. 33 km would take me ten hours at least, plus driving there and back. Not doable. But now I had a whole free weekend, so I can walk one way today and back tomorrow. (I am again reminded that I should look into the car plus bike solution, so I can get these kinds of longer stages done in a single day.)

Hagtorp is barely a place, even: googling for Hagtorp brings up two kinds of hits only. There is the eponymous transport/shipping company, and there is Sörmlandsleden. I’m not sure what shipping activities the company actually does – there are no trucks or anything visible at their site – but they do have plenty of open gravel surface which makes for a great parking lot for hikers.

I had a leisurely start with a proper weekend breakfast and only started driving at 10:30, hoping to be hiking by 12. But there had been some kind of accident on the E4, which caused major traffic jams, and my drive took forever. When I finally got started on the trail, past one o’clock, I was very happy to be let out of the car and have a chance to stretch my legs.

This stage had proper woods and wild nature, unlike the previous one. There was some mixed forest, and a lot of the typical pine and spruce forest with heather and blueberry bushes. And the occasional lake for beautiful views, and the occasional clear-cut area for contrasting ugliness.

I found my thoughts spinning back to the tretton37 drama all the time, and from there to code problems I left behind at Sortera yesterday afternoon, and then on private worries, and then around again. I ended up turning this into an intense mindfulness walk. Whenever I found myself ruminating again, I made myself focus on what was around me.

Sound. On a large scale: silence. Apart from the start and end, this stage was far from noisy roads, and truly very quiet. This time of the year, there’s very little bird sounds, either. But I myself was making noise all the time: there was the crunch of my boots on debris, and the swish of grass against my legs, and the slosh of water in my water bottle.

Sight. I wish I could have looked around while walking, but much of the path was really rough and uneven, with rocks and roots and tussocks, so it took constant concentration. I would have tripped or twisted an ankle quite quickly. But I could pay attention to the rocks themselves, and all the pine cones on the ground, and the various plants and bushes around me.

Smell. Not much. Books sometimes have people walking on “fragrant pine needles” but in reality any needles on the ground are dead and have no scent at all. Perhaps pine trees in other parts of the world are different, who knows.

Touch. One the one hand, plenty to experience, but on the other hand, most of what I can feel while hiking tends towards the unpleasant. The pressure of the pack on my hips. A wrinkle in my t-shirt under the straps of the pack. The sharp scratch of a juniper bush. But I liked catching the seed heads of tall grasses and letting them slip through my fingers.

Taste. It’s berry season! Lingonberries and bilberries and bog bilberries are all ripe and plentiful. I was extra happy when I found bog bilberries, not only because I like their flavour but also because the bushes are taller and the berries thus easier to pick without bending down (which can be awkward with a heavy pack).

Most lingonberries were mostly ripe, and some were all the way ripe, but I’d say they needed another week or so to reach perfection. Which didn’t stop me from eating them, of course.

Bog bilberries look less appealing. The bushes are sparse and have an air of scragglyness. The berries hang singly or by twos at most, and the colour is muted, so they look underwhelming on the whole. It takes effort to make them look good in a photo.

Bilberries I don’t care much about at all, while I’m out walking. They’re good in pies and muffins and yoghurt and all that, but on their own, they’re too bland for my taste.

Due to my late start, and my slow pace because of the uneven path, I was worried about getting to the end at a reasonable hour. It was seven in the evening by the time I reached the camping area. I had been keeping my eyes open for the last kilometre or two of walking, for alternative camping spots in case the end of the stage was underwhelming (because the other end was literally a gravel parking lot!) but the area around Bruksdammen was beautiful. I put off all thoughts about cooking dinner and getting my tent set up, and instead admired and photographed the area. It was a wetland area with pink water-lilies in deep dark ponds.

Then there was dinner, after which I read for a while, but then went to bed at ten o’clock already, quite tired. The night was very windy – I half-woke a few times and thought at first that it was rain I heard, but it was just the wind being very loud.

Progress on Sörmlandsleden is still blocked by a long stage that requires a whole weekend, and I wanted to be at home most of this weekend to see Adrian between his travels, so I walked the “adventure trail” at Lida. 9km.

Stigen är på vissa ställen tekniskt utmanande med kuperade passager, glest markerad och inte röjd.

The trail is technically challenging in places with hilly sections, sparsely marked and not cleared.

Sounded like fun! (Except… how hard would it be to actually paint some more blue markers on a few trees here and there? Especially since the Lida activity centre suggests you buy a map of the trail from them for 30 kr.)

Parts of the trail were indeed just as the website described.

But there were also many stretches of pretty boring gravel road, and the last section was a particularly dull one. Yes, we’re technically in nature, but it didn’t feel like it.

The trail is a circular one and goes around a small lake, and I had hoped for nice views of the lake, but those were few and far between. Overall this trail did not impress me much and won’t be on any kind of list of favourites.

It started raining towards the end of my walk. It had been rather hot before, so I didn’t mind, and found the cooling effect quite pleasant.

It rained a bit more and then a bit less, and then, during my drive home, it rained more and more and then even more. At times I was driving at half the speed limit. And then I’d drive through a dip in the road and it was like running into mud. And then some idiot in a giant SUV would overtake me in the left lane and spray me with so much water that it was like being in a car wash. I could literally see nothing but a sheet of water. I wished I could stop at that point but there were cars behind me so I just carefully continued straight at an even pace for the 5 seconds it took for the water to flow down and some visibility to be restored. The 40-minute drive home was more exhausting than the three-hour walk.

The latest issue of Utemagasinet (“Outdoors magazine”) had a section where various contributors described their outdoor memories, based on a series of prompts. It made me think, and then I decided to do the same.

And I realize again just how bad my long-term memory is at storing experiences. Eric and I went to all sorts of places before we had children – Wales, Lake District, Scotland – but since I haven’t looked at photos of those trips in many years, I only have rather hazy mental images of them. I am very grateful for this blog.

Anyway, here goes.

Day trip: The last day of our trip to Mercantour. This was our first outdoorsy trip with the kids, and on the last day we went up to a mountain pass where we got our first taste of high alpine landscape. Dramatic views, everybody super impressed, until the afternoon thunderstorm with heavy hail. We all still have strong memories of that day.

Week trip: Padjelanta on skis. My own hikes are usually long weekends so they don’t quite qualify. All my ski tours have been lovely but this one was wilder and more fun than most. In the middle of the Padjelanta national park, we were sometimes the only group in a hut.

Of the weekend trips, I still have very fond memories of the Kinnekulle hike. Most of my hikes have been to mountainous areas, or in various pine forests, but this was a beautiful lowland hike in a completely different landscape. I’ve been thinking of going back there during a different season.

Accommodation: The cave house on Gran Canaria, or perhaps the yurt in Mercantour, which I unfortunately have no photos of.

Highest peak: In 2005 Eric and I climbed the Kilimanjaro. That was BTB, Before The Blog, so I have no post to link to, but here’s a photo from my archives:

Worst weather: Actually not the day with hail and thunder, but a gale in Skarvheimen. High wind, wet snow. The only time I’ve felt truly miserable due to the weather. No visibility, exhausting skiing. By the end of it I was numb with exhaustion and chilled all the way through.

Camp site: Nothing immediately stands out as “the greatest”, because many of the sites near Stockholm are rather similar to each other. The camping site at Trehörningen in Paradiset nature reserve is beautiful, and so is the one by Finnsjön on Sörmlandsleden stage 18. Especially when I am the only one there.

View: Actually not Kilimanjaro. It was a high peak and the views were expansive, but not the most interesting ones. The land around the peak is quite flat and barren. And at the very top I was feeling pretty awful with altitude sickness. No, the best views I can remember were from Viševnik. Only 2000 metres compared to Kilimanjaro’s 5900, but with rather more scenic views. Or perhaps the Centenario SAT via ferrata route, which is right above Riva del Garda.

Here’s Eric’s photo of a very young-looking me on that route, with Riva del Garda far below us, in 2004:

A time when I was afraid: The gale in Skarvheimen. I remember having the realization that this is how people die in the mountains. It doesn’t even take any extreme temperatures – just a bad combination of them, and a long day, and a lack of visibility.

Swim: Many of the swims in the lakes near Stockholm have been pleasant, but the dip in a bog lake in Soomaa felt unlike everything else. The top layer was warm, but beneath it the water was very cold, so I had the strong sense how large the invisible waters were that the tiny little pool connected to.

Food: The outdoor food above all other outdoor foods is porridge, especially with newly picked lingonberries.

Last week of vacation, great weather, no plans – I’m going for a nice long walk. The next stage of Sörmlandsleden is 16 km so it would be an overnight there-and-back hike, which I can’t fit in this week. Instead I went to Tyresta. The best hiking I’ve done near Stockholm is in Tyresta, and that was a while ago.

Tyrestarundan combined with Fornborgsrundan for a total of 19 km.

The initial kilometre or two went through farmland, complete with cackling hens and baa-ing sheep. After that, it was the usual granite and bilberry bushes and pine and spruce.

The trail network in Tyresta has been upgraded to the new marking standard that I’ve seen used in other national parks, coloured hexagons with different numbers of dots.

One of the draws of this hiking trail for me was that it goes through a wide swathe of forest that burned down in 1999. It’s clearly marked in the national park maps and rather distinct in real life as well: the forest is evenly young there, like a lake of lighter green amidst the otherwise darker, older trees.

The reasons for the youth of the forest are barely detectable now, twenty-five years on. I remember a brief visit maybe ten years ago, and I think I recall seeing actual dead, burnt skeletons of trees still sticking up. Now there is none of that. If you look really carefully, you can find a carbonized root or stump somewhere.

And perhaps some rocks are darker than normal? Or maybe that’s just lichens.

The shorter trail that I added to my walk took me all the way around Stensjön. I love lakes – and rivers and waterfalls and all other kinds of water.

As an unexpected benefit, that side of the park was very empty. I don’t think I saw or heard a single person on the east side of the lake, not even at a distance.

I therefore took the chance and went for a naked swim. Wonderful feeling, especially on a hot and sweaty day like today. (Last time was on Husarö five years ago.)

I decided to swim around the two little islets that I could see nearby (in the middle at the back in the photo). At first just around the larger, closer one, but the water between the islets was full of large, slippery rocks hiding just below the surface, barely tall enough to eddy the water when I looked carefully. I gave up on trying to find a way through and swam around both, only to find more rocks on the other side of them, so my circle kept growing. The lake deserves its name (“stone lake”).

Of wildlife, nothing but a few small frogs, and the calls of crows and finches. Most birds have stopped their singing for this season. Some insects, but luckily no mosquitoes.

Repeating a favourite activity from last year – canoe rafting from Taevaskoja to Kiidjärve.

We were slightly fewer people (and dogs) this year, so we fit on a single raft. Which made things simpler and somewhat easier, because not everybody had to paddle all the time. On the other hand I had fewer photo opportunities, because I was right on top of people all the time.

Except when we made a stop to walk the dog!

The paddling itself is not much of a challenge these days, with lots of young, strong people who’ve all done this before. It got more exciting the further upriver we came, as the river narrowed and the fallen trees grew more numerous.

Same procedure as last year?

Same procedure as every year.

I was a teeny bit worried that Ingrid and Adrian wouldn’t find this exciting any more, after climbing a via ferrata, but this poses a different kind of challenge and was still fun.

The last obstacle on the last climbing course, the “Tarzan jump”. Was pretty scary the first time, a little bit scary the second year, and barely makes us pause now.

We’re still in the Cortina d’Ampezzo area today, and went for a hike to lake Sorapis, which is said to be one of the best ones in the region. As you can see from the photo above, yes, it’s absolutely stunning. (6.5km each way, just over 400m of ascent & descent, which was one of the deciding factors for us picking this particular hike, because Ingrid’s knees don’t like walking downhill much.)

Like most beautiful places, this one is reportedly absolutely overrun with tourists during high season. Even now there were quite a lot of people. Had this been a Swedish hiking trail, I’d have described it as crowded. There’s not even a proper parking lot near the trailhead – people just park on the side of the road, tens and tens of cars. We parked ours a bit further down the road and just walked an extra 800 metres or so.

We’ve been really happy with our choice to come here early in the season, as soon as the school year ended. Not only do we avoid the worst of the crowds but we also get slightly cooler weather. Which is still not very cool – the temperature has been in the high twenties most days – so I can only imagine how much we’d be suffering here in July.

The trail starts as a broad path in the forest in the valley and then snakes its way up the side of the mountain.

The further up you get, the narrower the trail, and in places it gets quite tricky, with scree slopes and rocks and cliffs. Some sections – where the trail was narrowest and the drop next to it steepest – even had cables to hold on to. Some people were doing this in city sneakers, others with small dogs that they had to carry… I’m not sure what they were thinking.

At the end of the trail, just after a mountain hut, there was the famous turquoise lake. And it felt like there were people everywhere, lots of them posing for photos. We were rather hungry but there wasn’t even enough space to sit down and have a picnic anywhere, so after a brief water stop we trudged onwards, to the other side of the lake, where there looked to be a meadow.

The thing that looked like a meadow was indeed one, and there were fewer people there so we could sit down without feeling like we’re elbow to elbow with someone else. We had a nice, long sit-down lunch, with bakery bread and fresh nectarines.

Just as we were swallowing our last bites of food, it started raining lightly, so we scrambled to get our rain gear on (and our boots) and headed back down the mountain. The lake looked almost otherworldly, with its bright turquoise waters under the gray skies.

The walk downhill was easier in some ways, but also wet and slippery in places.

By the time we got back to the trailhead, the kids were rather tired and sat down right there, and waited for us to bring the car to them.

Today we went climbing via ferrata routes. If you haven’t run across that term before – it’s mountain climbing but with protection all the way. You’re climbing up and across cliffs while being attached to a steel cable by two carabiners at all times. Or, for our Estonian readers, it’s like the adventure climbing park in Otepää but in mountains instead of treetops.

Eric and I did this before, ages ago, before the kids arrived. We went on week-long holidays doing nothing but via ferrata climbing. Now that Adrian and Ingrid are old enough, it’s time to induct them into the club as well.

Cortina d’Ampezzo is a ski resort in winter, and there are cable cars lining the mountains in various directions. The two via ferrata routes we did today were in the middle of what is a ski slope in winter. Not just any ski slope – according to our guide, this is where the World Ski Cup runs happen.

The first route, Ra Pegna, is a beginner-level route and goes up the rocky tower on the left of the ski run.

At the top of the tower, there’s actually enough of a flat spot that you can sit down and have a breather. (It was rather hot today.)

You can see the entirety of Cortina d’Ampezzo from there. San Vito di Cadore is just outside the frame, to the right.

As usual, coming down is more arduous and less fun than going up.

Now that we were warmed up (and had verified that everyone was up to the challenge and enjoyed this activity) we tackled the route up the right-hand tower, called Ra Bujela, somewhat more difficult and longer.

It was trickier to find a good handhold or foothold at times, but our guide Manuel was at hand and attentive, and ready to give advice when needed, so we all got to the top without any real trouble.

From there we could see Ra Pegna in all its glory.

Here are some photos by Ingrid to show that I was also there:

And some more photos by our guide Manuel:

This morning we left Venice and Mestre behind and drove to Cortina d’Ampezzo.

In the afternoon, we hiked the loop trail circles around the famous three peaks of Tre Cime di Lavaredo.

Starting at the Rifugio Auronzo, the trail initially loops behind the mountains, so you can’t see them very well. But the trail is pretty stunning in and of itself.

We had a late picnic lunch as soon as we found a place where we could step off the trail a bit. Immediately, birds approached us in the hopes of food scraps. Looks like alpine choughs are the gulls of the mountains.

(And I am clearly a noob when it comes to using my phone camera, even getting my finger in the picture. That just never occurs with an actual camera – you’d have to make a real effort to make that happen.)

The start of the trail is just over 2000 metres above sea level, but since we gained all of those 2000 m of altitude in just half a day, we felt them. Nothing like real altitude sickness, but enough to make us feel slightly short of breath when walking uphill, so we had to pause quite often.

There were still significant amounts of snow up there – packed drifts taller than us. The sun was quite hot, and the trail was like a little stream in places.

The trail itself had been cleared of snow, so we were walking in a canyon between tall walls of snow.

Rounding the mountain, the shapeless lump was starting to separate into three distinct peaks…

… and a kilometre later, we got those dramatic vistas of the peaks nicely lined up next to each other.

Many people seemed to turn back at this point. Got the views, done. We continued along the trail as it circled a wide valley to the north of the peaks, with more beautiful views.

There was some threat of rain but nothing that actually materialized.

The Dolomites are generously equipped with huts, much more than I am used to seeing anywhere else I’ve hiked – we passed 4 rifugios during the 10-kilometre loop. I can imagine how crowded it must get here during high season.

The last ridge is never actually the last ridge!

Bonus photo by Ingrid: