5am and stretching my legs down by the lake. It’s chilly but dry. Everyone else is asleep, so time for a quick wash in the freezing water before enjoying the warmth of a coffee and the changing colours of distant hills against a beautiful sunrise.
It feels strange not checking my phone for messages, but already I’m focusing more on what I see and hear, rather than letting my thoughts wander to life back home. It’s difficult to ignore the orange fire spreading down the dark horizon.
A 12 mile walk along the side of the lake to the next hut sounds fairly gentle, although the map shows the trail as red and black, the two more difficult categories, rather than the blue of yesterday.
“Hiking on red and black routes calls for a greater sense of direction, physical fitness and hiking experience.” Do I qualify?
The initial section is a scramble over rocks and boulders, which explains the black rating, before opening out into a red trail. It’s hard to get lost when you’re following a lake, but I still manage to lose the track a few times, finding myself too high up the hillside or in boggy ground that requires a little backtracking.
The deep blue lake is tempting on such a gorgeous day. The destination hut is a canoe centre, and the canoes are available to hikers. Unfortunately, more people hike from east to west, and it’s the end of the season, so all the canoes are at the other end of the lake. Not that I’d be tempted given my useless swimming technique. It’s tough on the water if the wind picks up and drives against you. Several people have abandoned the attempt due to fatigue and wind chill.
Tough willow stems threaten to trip me up, and vibrant splashes of colour stand out among the tundra greens and browns.
An abandoned canoe lies on the shore, only a few miles short of the hut.
Approaching the hut, a majestic reindeer peers down from the hilltop, silhouetted against the sun. We stare at each other for some time and then — from nowhere — such euphoria. He turns and walks away.
The Living Mountain by Nan Shepherd made it into my backpack as it’s slim and light. She describes the unpredictable weather in the Cairngorms:
“One walks among elementals, and elementals are not governable. There are awakened also in oneself by the contact elementals that are as unpredictable as wind or snow.”
I rarely use the digital zoom on my phone camera as the image appears too pixelated on a larger screen, but I want to remember this moment.
The canoe centre is finally in sight. It’s been harder than I expected, so I’m a little concerned about the challenge of two longer days ahead, skipping a hut to complete the trail in seven days.
The hut is huge, with two separate dorms and a communal kitchen / dining area. Pia arrives shortly after, and we sit outside on the steps looking across the lake.
“Is that a canoe?”
Sure enough, the firefighters have picked up the abandoned canoe and are heading for shore, albeit in a strange zig-zag pattern. We cheer them in and help pull the boat ashore — a very cool arrival.
The hut gradually fills with my nine companions. There’s only one problem — the toilet is overflowing. It’s supposed to be changed when the plastic bag is a third full. Jen (the firefighter, as there are two Jens) is definitely my heroine, as she empties it out for us all.
“No peeing in there to stop it filling up quickly” she instructs.
“But where can I pee?” asks Megan.
Jen gestures across the landscape with a wide sweep of her arm — “Anywhere you like!”. She makes me laugh.
Chatting over dinner with Dennis, Jen and Liz, it turns out they live only a few miles from me. You come all the way to Greenland and meet your neighbours.
Later in the evening, Alice, a young French woman, arrives from the west in a canoe, like a scene from Last of the Mohicans. Her first words on entering the dorm are “Do you snore?”. She’s a ball of energy, planning to hike the trail in an incredible five days. We discuss the river crossing to come.
“Did you cross the ford or take the bridge?”
“Neither. I hitched a lift from a passing boat.”
Hmm. If I tried that they would probably just sail on past.
Michael has the heaters going again, so we all fall asleep in a warm haze.
Wonderful sunrise photos – makes it worth getting up at 5am, although I am not sure I would cope with the early morning washing faciliities.
Such an experience to see the stag like that, I am so pleased for you.
It was a very quick wash!
I was quite moved by the stag encounter. It was the first living thing I had seen all day, apart from tiny birds, and it was just standing there in the silent landscape. Getting sentimental in my old age. 🙂
Tony,
Absolutely loving your narration of the trail and adventures along the way!!! ❤️
Hey Terra! Thanks for helping to create the adventures. In yet another coincidence I met Eleanor as I was getting off the plane at Copenhagen. She came up to me and said “Tony?”. Small world. 🙂
Lovely photos and this is turning into a real adventure. On my recent trip to Norway I took a walk around a lake expecting it to be simple. It was anything but, the path pretty much entirely a boulder field and several places where it was so steep that chains had been provided to pull yourself up. Quite and adventure and very enjoyable, but nothing like as remote as this. A few years back I want to Svalbard (Spitsbergen) which was excellent and I remember seeing reindeer wandering around the town which of course the locals regards as entirely normal.
Sounds like you enjoyed it. How cold was it there? I assumed it would be very snowy but so far don’t see any snow on your photos (but I did see you post a photo of an iceberg on Facebook so I guess that changes…)?
The path is not that steep apart from a couple of climbs. It’s just very wet, all the time.
I was really lucky with the weather and it rarely dropped below zero. Summer was just ending and the snow only fell after I reached the end, although some people were caught out in it.