Såmmarlappa to the old Darreädno shelter, 10-ish km, flat.

Skiing along the Darreädno river towards civilization, leaving Padjelanta behind us. A spring day with dripping eaves and warm but changeable weather.

I realize I haven’t shown or said much about the pulks we were using. Here’s a typical morning scene: those who are done with their individual packing, as well as any cleaning tasks, bring out the pulks from wherever we’ve stacked them for the night and line them up, ready for packing.

Every pulk gets a black crate of shared food (quite empty and lightweight by now) and a big bag for everything else. The bags are not waterproof – their only job is to keep things inside and snow outside, and then be strapped onto the pulks. Inside we have our stuff in dry bags, and perhaps some loose items. I always shove my emergency sleeping mat and my Crocs in loose. The sleeping mat is too large to fit in the dry bag (and doesn’t need it either) and the Crocs are the first things I want when we arrive at a hut (and also don’t need to be kept dry).

Today’s skiing was very flat, along the Darreädno river. The weather was warm and the snow wet and mushy. In places we were skiing through puddles.

We skied until lunchtime and stopped at the old Darreädno shelter – one of the very first ones built by STF, in 1889. Unfortunately I didn’t have time to see whether it was open, or what it looked like inside.

After lunch we were picked up by a pair of snowmobiles and trailers. We packed ourselves and all our kit into the trailers, and were ferried back to civilization.

Driving a snowmobile, with a heavily-loaded double trailer, along a twisty and bumpy trail, occasionally through wet patches and over small bridges, clearly required significant skill and attention from the driver. At one point, where the track did a sharp turn just before crossing a small bridge, we had to get out of the trailer and let the snowmobile basically jump across (with the rear trailer only nominally using the bridge to cross).

The ride went mostly through sparse forest and was quite scenic. This time the trailer had actual cushions and reindeer skins to sit on, and there was no storm in our faces, so it was rather pleasant.

Duottar to Såmmarlappa, 26 km. 75 m ascent, 450 m descent. 8.5 hours.

The day started with nice, easy skiing across gently undulating terrain, under a light cloud cover.

Then the views opened up towards the south-east.

With excellent timing, the clouds also cleared away, and the wind died down, and we had some truly excellent skiing. From this point onwards our route followed a chain of connected lakes, which make for great skiing – flattish ground, views all around. If I recall correctly, some of the views we had here were out over the mountains in Sarek national park, to the east of Padjelanta, and someone probably pointed out which mountain was which. Having nothing to relate those names to, I promptly forgot them, but I did appreciate the views.

Towards the afternoon we had a lovely, gentle, long descent down (and then out) from the Padjelanta national park. The spectacular views of nothing but mountains and rocks and snow were replaced with birch forest. Not as dramatic, but I do like skiing through forests as well.

The weather got gradually warmer and wetter as the afternoon went on. We arrived at Såmmarlappa through thick, wet snow.

Såmmarlappa is a manned hut so we were greeted with pre-warmed rooms and hot blackcurrant cordial.

Staying at Duottar for another night. Today was planned as a slack day, in case we needed to adjust our route or timing due to the weather – or to be used for a day trip. In the end it was a bit of both. The day started out very windy, continuing on from yesterday, so we mostly stayed in the huts until lunchtime.

In the middle of the day we had a couple of fine hours of beautiful sunshine, and went out on a small circuit on the nearby lake. On the other side of the lake we took off our skis and climbed to the top of the (very small) peak to get some views.

It was rather satisfying to get some good glide going. Swish, swoosh, across a flat lake, with the wind at our backs and the sun brilliant above us.

More dark clouds were piling up when we were turning back, and the wind picked up again soon after, so our outing remained short.

The rest of the day we just puttered around our huts. I think many in the group appreciated the rest. There isn’t much space nor comfortable furniture in the huts. You can lounge in your bed, or on one of the small, hard chairs.

I had packed some knitting, given the more generous “luggage allowance” with the pulks. I finished a pair of socks this morning and wound the yarn for the next pair. A ball of sock yarn weighs 100 g, so the two didn’t make my bag much heavier.

At one point we took the time to dig out another stall in the outhouse. When we got here, only one of the stalls was clear of snow. Two others were full of snow inside, and the fourth had a large drift in front of the door. But we were getting low on toilet paper in the one that we were using, so it was worth digging out a second one.

When there’s nothing else to do, there’s almost always water to melt and boil. It’s the first thing we do in the morning, and likewise the first thing we start when we get into a hut in the afternoon. There’s almost always two pots of water on the stove and a bucket of snow next to it.

Had I been on my own, I’d most likely not have bothered with the boiling. Fresh snow, freshly melted, is good enough for me. But I understand that the guides feel like they need to be more responsible with the group’s hygiene.

During this trip I’ve learned that there is technique and tricks to melting snow for drinking water. Sure, you can just shovel snow in a pot and put it on a stove, but there are ways be efficient about it.

Firstly and most importantly, don’t start with snow in an empty pot – you want some water at the bottom. Otherwise the first snow to melt will immediately boil and evaporate, which is a waste. So you prime the pot with the last dregs from your thermos.

Secondly, the first batch of ready, boiled water goes not in the thermos but in ordinary bottles, which you then put in the bucket of snow waiting to be melted next. This way you start warming up the snow while also cooling your drinking water. The thermoses you fill last.

And, of course, don’t leave any of your leftover water in the kettle, like some fool had done, because by the time the next guests get there it will be a solid chunk of ice, spiced with dead flies, which you can’t even pour out because it’s larger than the opening of the kettle.

On any normal trip we’d also spend a fair bit of time cooking. This time we had packed, frozen meals for all dinners, and the guides took care of breakfast porridge. I’ve never eaten as well on a hut-to-hut tour, with as little work.

Árasluokta to Duottar, 20 km, 500 m of ascent.

Mildly uphill all the day. The 20 km took us eight hours.

We had strong winds for six of those eight hours, and rain for four of them. Good thing I packed a rain cover for my rucksack. Also, wise from previous years, I’m glad that my packing list tells me to pack “a full change of clothes in a waterproof bag, regardless of season”. You’d think that on a ski trip you’d mostly risk simply getting cold, but this time of the year, wet is absolutely a risk, and wet + cold + windy is the worst.

In the wet and cold it was difficult to enjoy the views (such as they were in this weather).

The guides from Laponia Adventures were well equipped even for this kind of unpleasant weather, with a good-sized lightweight tent that we put up for a lunch break. We only put up the outer layer of the tent, so no floor, and dug a sitting trench in the middle, so all ten of us fit inside. It got warm in there quite quickly, and we could have a luxurious sit-down lunch. This did wonders for our energy levels, compared to whatever brief, freezing cold snack we would have had without the tent.

While I’m skiing, some part of me is almost always paying attention to my body. When there isn’t much to look at, and there are no photo opportunities to consider, it’s even more.

I pay attention to how all the different parts are feeling. Where is there tension? Am I hunching over due to the wind? Am I arching my back due to the pulk harness? Is anything rubbing uncomfortably? Work and effort can always be offloaded to some other body part, to some extent. Is some part working too hard? Skiing involves just about every part of the body.

I pay attention to my toes, the pads of my feet, my heels, hips, thighs, butt, lower back, shoulders, arms, wrists, hands. Lift the heel a bit less to take pressure off the toes. Shift the angle of my grip on the poles to reduce strain on the wrists. Plant the pole more strongly to let the shoulders offload the thighs.

I’m not the fastest in the group, and not the slowest either. Still I often end up being last. Quite often I allow myself to fall behind for a short while, especially for photos, because I know that I can catch up without excessive effort.

Over the years I’ve learned to pace myself. I may be last, but at the end of the day I arrive in good shape, with decent energy reserves for anything that might still be needed.

Upon arrival at the Duottar hut, our first task was again to shovel away the snow blocking the entrances. We were lucky to arrive when we did: the snow was soft (though heavy) and easy to shift. Later in the evening the temperature dropped, and whatever we hadn’t shovelled away by then was frozen hard and would remain.

Spotted today: a few reindeer, two very distant moose (mostly just large dark blobs with long legs), ptarmigans.

Låddejåhkå to Árasluokta, 13 km, with 350 m of ascent. Up and over a mountain pass and down again on the other side.

The ascent in the morning was long but not as hard as it first sounded. On skis with short skins it was just a bit of a plod. The hardest part was doing the zig-zag turns with a pulk – in the turn itself, you’re going one way but the pulk is going in another, and then for a moment right at the tip of the turn you’re trying to drag it straight up which is really heavy.

Looking back at the Låddejåhkå hut.

Up in the pass the snow was pretty great (even though we had slightly above-zero temperatures again) and the skiing really pleasant – except for the pulks acting as a brake. I do appreciate not having to carry any weight, but the pulks really kill the glide. Every time I felt like I could really actually get some speed, I was almost yanked back. Oh well.

The gentle downhill slope after the pass was even more pleasant. Especially when we got a bit of sunshine to go with it.

It kind of feels unfair that 350m of ascent takes so much longer than descending by the same amount.

The breaks in the clouds came and went. When the sun was out, it was nearly t-shirt weather.

We’ve seen and heard ptarmigans every day, sometimes closer, sometimes further off. Today there were also tracks of lynx.

This, by the way, is the view from the hut we were sleeping in, towards the outhouse. A good 50 metres of deep snow between us and the outhouse. Trying to get there without skis on is a bit risky – it might work, or your foot might go through the icy crust and knee-deep into snow, and then you’ll have to wrestle it out again. Hence the tracks of skis heading that way.

At home I rarely go to the lavatory in the middle of the night, but something about the eating and drinking patterns on a ski tour messes up the body’s rhythm, so I almost always end up waking up in the middle of the night, needing to pee. So I make sure to leave my ski boots where I can find them, and likewise with the skis themselves.

All nights thus far have been cloudy, but today we got at least mostly clear skies. I’m still hoping to see the northern lights, one of these trips, but it didn’t happen today. (Afterwards another member of the group said that they maybe saw a bit of green when they were out for their trip to the outhouse, but so briefly that it was gone before they could consider waking the rest of us.)

Kutjaure to Låddejåhkå, 20 km.

The Kutjaure hut, just outside the Padjelanta national park, is a manned one. Nevertheless guests are expected to take care of their own needs, so our day started with an expedition to fetch fresh water from the river. A path went down steep slope to a hole in the ice in the river. The water itself was a good metre and a half below the ice, so getting the water was at least a two-person job: one to heave up the water in a bucket on a long pole, and another to pour it into a large plastic can. Once the can was filled, it again took at least two people to get it up the hill: one to pull it up by a rope, and another one to push from behind.

Our own departure involved getting down that same steep hill, with all our skis and poles and pulks, and then across a steel bridge, all of which involved a fair bit of lifting and carrying and taking care not to fall over. And then finally we were off.

Today’s route was mostly flat, which was good for our first day. For some I believe it was their first time on cross-country skis (not counting yesterday’s little warm-up) and the pulks were new to all of us.

From afar the pulks seemed like they might be cumbersome, but it didn’t take long at all to get used to them. I grew to like them quite fast, after some time figuring out how to best adjust the harness and the frame.

In addition to everyone’s individual packs, we also had almost a week’s worth of food, plus shared safety equipment, shovels, etc. Nevertheless pulling a pulk with all that weight felt like less work than carrying just my own rucksack.

The weather was mostly cloudy today, with the occasional glimpse of the sun. Not much in terms of views.

The temperature was just below zero to begin with, which made for good skiing conditions. Later in the day the it got warmer and the snow got all sticky and difficult to ski on. In the late afternoon the temperature rose even further until we were skiing just in our base layers. The snow was wet and slushy, which perhaps felt less nice but was actually easier to ski on than the sticky stuff.

We had two sit-down lunches with sandwiches, snacks and hot drinks. Laponia Adventures promises good food, and they absolutely delivered. Västerbotten cheese, reindeer sausage, coffee, choice of teas and what not. A change from the relatively rushed meals I’m used to from my trips with Warthog Mountaineering (although even John’s lunch breaks have gotten longer as he has aged!) The food crates at the back of our pulks made for good seating.

The Låddejåhkå hut is not manned this time of the year. Our first job upon arrival was to dig away the snow from in front of the door so that we could even get inside.

Inside it was just like the STF huts I’m used to, with the pine furniture and bunk beds and a shared kitchen. One notable difference was the heating: STF huts usually have small wood-burning stoves, whereas here there were gas heaters, which were rather easier to manage.

Transportation day.

First from Jokkmokk to Ritsem by minivan, 200 km. First a normal public road up to Stora Sjöfallet, along the Lule river. At that point the road turns into a private one, owned by Vattenfall, so the road threads its way between the river with its dams and hydroelectric stations on one side, and an endless line of power line pylons on the other.

At Ritsem we packed ourselves and our equipment into snowmobiles. The initial plan was that today would be a warm-up day: we’d be dropped off somewhere between the Akka huts and the Kutjaure huts, and ski the last couple of hours. Due to near storm-strength winds that plan had to be abandoned and the snowmobiles took us all the way to Kutjaure.

In good weather the snowmobile trip could have been scenic. Now it was so windy that all we could do was huddle down in our warmest puffy jackets and pull up the old sleeping bags we had for blankets to protect us from the wind. I didn’t even think about taking of my mittens to take photos.

When we stopped near the Akka huts, one of the snowmobiles refused to start. The trailers got reshuffled so the remaining working snowmobile could get all of us out of the storm, and the skis and bags and pulks got left behind to be picked up later.

In the early evening the storm died down, so we could go out for a small circuit when our equipment caught up with us. Just enough to get familiar with the rented equipment (for those who had that) and for the guides to see that everyone could make their way up and down gentle slopes without falling over.

I’m on my way to Jokkmokk on an overnight train for this year’s ski trip.

I’m trying out a new travel company this time, which I’m both looking forward to but also a bit anxious about. I’ve mostly been doing my ski trip with the same guide and the same group, so it’s only nominally a company and mostly just a group of friends by now, and we always have a great time. I strayed from that group once, with STF, and was rather disappointed with the outcome. (The group was too large, some of the people rather annoying, and the guide was clearly not very enthusiastic about being there.) It’s taken me some years to work up the courage to try again.

This opens up some new possibilities, though. This year’s ski trip will take place in Padjelanta national park, which is rather remote. It’s not like in the Norwegian mountains where you can step off the train and be at a DNT hut after 5 minutes of walking (or skiing). This is a train ride + a bus ride + a minivan ride + a snowmobile ride and THEN we can start skiing. Arranging this on my own without local ground support would have been impossible.

Winter came early this year, and hard. We’ve got plenty of snow and temperatures have been at –10°C or colder. For the first time since forever, we have enough snow for skiing in Stockholm in December.

I took a few hours off work this afternoon and went skiing on Järvafältet. It was perfect. A cold Monday afternoon, almost no people. Fresh snow, and tracks in good shape.

Out skiing in –10°C, I was warmer than I am at home at +17°C. There wasn’t a single moment when I was cold, even though I was wearing about as much as I do when I sit home on the sofa.

My phone was less happy in the cold. It died, showing me a distressed yellow warning triangle with a thermometer icon, before I finished my circuit. Which was a bit of a problem, because it had my photos of the map of tracks. The map was only posted in a handful of locations, and I knew there were none in the north-west corner of the area. The tracks follow the terrain and are nowhere near regular or predictable in shape. But most of the time there wasn’t much choice, just follow the tracks, so I found my way back even without the maps.

Mårbu to Solheimstulen. Not sure about the distance as I forgot to take notes, maybe 15 km?

After my trips, skiing or other, I always realize that I’ve only taken photos of the main “attraction” and have few or none of the things around it. The huts, the meals, the breaks, the equipment. And I’ve fallen into the same trap this time.

At least I have this one of our room at the Mårbu hut. It’s reasonably typical of what the rooms in the DNT huts look like. Solidly built bunk beds, pine floors, maybe a chair or a small table. Hooks on the wall. Possibly a small stove for heating. Pillow and duvet covered in DNT fabric.

There was no doubt that we were getting closer to civilization today. No more untracked trails – now we had snowmobile tracks to follow. Which can be convenient at times, but they can also be icy and uneven, and more work than they’re worth, so we ski next to them.

As we came further down the mountain, trees appeared and then filled up the valleys. After a while the snowmobile tracks were the only open ground where we could ski. Once your skis get into the snowmobile groove, there’s no way to control your descent, though. As the descent got steeper and steeper, and the tracks deeper and deeper, we had to get off our skis and walk down.

Then we had a few hours’ wait at Solheimstulen hut for a taxi to take us to Geilo. In Geilo we were staying at an actual hotel (that had seen better days but was still pretty grand) and ate dinner on a white tablecloth. Something of a shock after the mountain huts.

The food on this trip was mostly quite uninspired, and they really did not know how to handle vegetables. I think three of our dinners included boiled carrots with absolutely no flavouring. I guess it’s a Norwegian thing. The dinner at Geiterygghytta was a rare exception.