Day 4: 18 August, Jåkåtjkaskalako, 0 km
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.