Wake up. Where are we ? Dense fog surround the tent. No visibility at all. Alone in our own universe. A strange feeling. Leave the tent, after five steps is it lost in the fog. Hurry back. The decision is easy, wait in the tent. The time pass by slowly, no sign of improvement. Sleep for a while, reading a book, coffee, chocolate, lunch. The fog is obstinate. No sound can be heard, completely quite. No wind. Walk around the tent, one, two, three, ..., fifty times. In all directions fog. Sleep for a while, reading a book, coffee, chocolate, dinner. A slight movement in the canvas. Wind ! Big bang, our universe expands, inflates. First the grass nearby form, then the stones further away, finally can one distinguish the lower part of hills and mountains. Back in the standard universe, in which it is raining. Tomorrow is a new day.

Day 5: 19 August, Jåkåtjkaskalako - Sitojaure, 14 km

Windy, cloudy, and cold.We know there are mountains in the west, but nothing is seen. In good weather is it possible to get into Pastavagge from Vassjavagge, over Vassjapakte (1600m), and down Skaitatjvagge. We choose to visit Sitojaure in the north instead. We live in a flat almost two dimensional world, limited by the ground and the clouds 100 meters above us. The terrain is easy, we arrive soon at Abmojåkkå. It is late august, Abmojåkkå is now a rill. We let it guide us to the small lake Abmojoure. West of the lake can we dimly see the base of the mountains.

After a short lunch at the lake, do we find the opening down to Sitojaure between Tjålle and Takarlåptå. It is steep downhill, and we serpentine our way down. We feel for having a site bordering on the lake, and we should also look for the boat to Rinim. Between us and the lake is a dense forest with large osiers. Brave us we are, forward! We try to follow the brook from Jåkåtjkaskalako, and end up in a fen. Deep water, one tend sink deeper in the mud for each step forward. We decide to return to safer ground, the site in our minds is not worth the effort. Two hundred meters took one hour, and one our back. The true distance was longer, one could not walk in a straight line. On the way back do we walk in the brook as much as possible, it turns out to easier in that way. Back up to the region above the tree line, we make our home on the border to the tree-line and near the brook. We deserve the dinner. Our dishcloth disappear among the stones in the brook. Despite a long search for it, is it gone. Will complicate the dishing.