The Quiet Picture

It was a rare event - a semi-sunny morning. I walked up the Funäsdalsfjället mountain with the aim of taking some panorama images. The peak of the mountain was advertised as the best view in the Swedish mountains and I suspected some hype there, but it turned out to be grand indeed - a 360 degree view with mountains in every direction! I’m sure that the view is even better from one of the big peaks further north, but there can’t be anything that competes with Funäsdalsfjället as for reachability – just straight up the mountain and you’re there. In the summer you have to labour a bit more for the priviledge, but in the winter you can take the lift up.

Another week, another mountain range.I drove to Mittåkläppen, parked the car about 1 km past Djupdalsvallen and started walking. After I noticed that the road continued in fine conditions, I was a bit bummed with myself for not driving further. I had never been there before so I didn’t know how it would look like and parked in what I thought was the last safe place. So it’s more walking for a lazy photographer then. Got to Holmvallen and my mood was getting even worse. Despite the autumn colour that finally seems to have started, I couldn’t find any good photo ops. The sun was occasionally out or shining through a thin cloud cover, but I just couldn’t find anything that appeared suitable for me.

I headed towards Axhögen and suddenly I got lucky – a herd of reindeer standing in a clearing with Mittåkläppen in the background. I had to crawl behind the bushes to find a good angle but the reindeer knew I was there anyway and they kept a watchful eye on me. Then I got even more lucky – the sun came out and allowed me to rattle off a few shots before the reindeer decided that they didn’t like me much and trotted off. My mood was infinitely improved though – I got some pictures!

After a while the path turned into a muddy road (or a tractor tracks) which was not marked on the map. I figured that it has to be one of the trails on the map though, just marked wrong, and continued. Then more wonderful scenes opened up in the front of me – it was raining just the teeniest bit, enough to create a rainbow next to Axhögen. Kodak moment. Sorry, Canon moment!

I was waiting for a fork in the road/trail but it never materialised, instead I suddenly was in front of another “fäbodvall” (homestead). I had planned to get to a homestead but was surprised to find one here… Unexpected or not, I took some pictures and then turned back as I was hoping to get back to Djupdalsvallen before 4 to eat some waffles they serve. But now I was getting annoyed again – I hate it when the map is wrong. Or when I don’t know where I’m on the map. Pick one. The fact is however that the tractor tracks are not marked as such on the map, but I figured that they will lead to the main road and I was right. It looks like I had actually followed the exact route I had planned beforehand, but I never quite localised myself on route. Weird as it sounds…

So now I had to hike some extra to get back to the car and again I was annoyed with myself for parking so far. The sun was quite warm and my hip was starting to hurt but no worries, I made it to Djupdalsvallen in time and got my waffle and some real strong coffee, all my annoyances somehow just vanished!

My mood thus improved again, I started driving back. Since I was in no hurry, I stopped to check out “Lyftstenen” that was marked from the road. Only 300m so no probs, I was expecting to see a huge rock left alone by the ice age, I’m always fascinated by them.

Now I’ve seen my share of sights during my travels. But the “Lyftstenen” takes the prize in its un-sightness! The English name they had given it was “The rock they carried”. That says it all. It’s a small rock (the size of those blocks they carry in the Strong Man competitions) that two guys had carried some eons back, competing who can carry it the furthest. Sheesh. I can do this – just pick a rock, make up a story, set up the sign and wait for the people to come. I’ve got two words for you: urban legend. I was laughing when I walked back… There was another sign soon after for something called the “Björnstenen” (Bear stone). I opted not to look. What would that be – a stone that a bear had once carried? And despite it… I know one day I probably will go and take a look anyway, just too curious!

This is what I look forward to every autumn - wake up see the landscape covered with the first snow. Somehow I wasn’t all that happy now though to see the white stuff coming down heavy because I was not prepared at all for winter conditions. The visibility improved a little bit during my generous breakfast, but even the lower mountains were in and out of the snow clouds.It was fairly obvious that Sylarna would not be visible today, so I took yet another direction from the station and headed up towards Getryggen. It was snowing constantly and the snow on the wooden planks that crossed over the marshy places made it slippery going – my boots have excellent grip during 3 seasons but they are equally bad in snow. I managed without accidents and stopped to take photographs of the snowy scenery. When I was packing the camera back in again, a family of three showed up and I was consoled by the company. I can’t deny that I’m always just a little bit worried being out there alone, and it gets worse with the deteriorating weather conditions. But thus reassured, I decided to continue further up although initially I had thought that I’d just go a small bit and then turn back to take the originally planned route towards Sylarna (even if I had given up on seeing them today).

As I got out from the protection of the forest, the snow got more intense. Every once in a while I would stop for a breather, look at the scenery (what was visible of it as the snow clouds kept covering part or all of the valley below) and also check if the family was still following behind me. Still a bit more up, I noticed that there was a group of 5 people coming up as well, so now it started feeling decidly crowded! This was not a bad thing though, instead it encouraged me to continue up the mountain in hopes of reaching the top. If they’re gonna do it, so was I. Unfortunately the snowfall just got worse further up, as did the wind. There were some gusts whipping off loose snow in whirlwinds, if you got into one of them it was just a matter of standing your ground, or even crouch down. The wind was however not as bad as it had been yesterday, thank you for that.

Naturally, the higher up I got, the more snow there was. The trail was not very well marked to start with and at times it just simply disappeared, but the general direction it took was pretty obvious (towards the top, of course). At around 1200m I started to get a bit worried though – none of the people coming behind me were actually coming behind me. The trail was really hard to find by now and I had to keep looking back for landmarks (that is, big rocks) and in the end I took a compass reading to make sure I could find the right way back even in zero visibility. Following my own footsteps was not an option as the snow gusts wiped my tracks off just as soon as I had made them – scary. Visibility was very low at times so it was a few anxious moments every time my marker disappeared out of sight. But then I saw the group of 5 finally – only to see them make a turn and head for the nearest “fake” peak (you know, those low peaks that at first make you think that it’s the actual peak of the mountain but when you get there, you find that the mountain still continues). Gulp. So now I really was alone and a big snow front closed in on me so that the group disappeared out of sight. But by this time I was very close to 1300m and I desperately wanted to cross that. Every time the snow would hide my marker, I would stop. Then when it cleared enough, I would run up as much as I could before I ran out of breath, or another snow gust hit me. It was soooo stupid I can’t believe it… I was thinking it was stupid as I was doing it, but I still did it. How stupid is that? Then the altimeter showed 1315m and I didn’t stop to admire it but just jumped back down, keeping my eye on the landmarks and trying not to trip over, which was more than close a few times. It’s really slippery as the wind and snow gusts try to throw you off balance and then the fallen snow was hiding rocks, bumps and holes and in some places, mud that slid off under your foot. I was relieved to say the least when the trail once again became clearly visible.

And then the miracle happened. The snowfall cleared enough to see the valley below, the sun showed itself a little bit and the lower peaks were free from the clouds. Serious photography time and indeed I stayed there until the snow moved back in.

Incidentally, I lost the rain cover for my 70-200mm lens. My fingers were clumsy with cold so when I tried to remove the cover, the wind just tore it off my hand. Running after it down the mountain was never an option, so regrettably I had to watch it fly away. If you ever come across it, I’m sorry – I really don’t intentionally spoil the nature. I’ll be even more sorry if a lemming suffocates in it.

So I made it back to the station, gave up on the weather and drove back to Ånn via Handöl to take a look at the waterfalls there. Excuse me while I’m not being impressed. I don’t mean to sound blasé but medium sized waterfalls just don’t work for me. They are big enough to dominate the landscape, but too small to overwhelm by sheer size. I’ve seen some very big waterfalls in my time (Niagara, Victoria Falls) and these are the ones that demand your attention and will keep it. I think this is one thing that photography has ruined for me. While I always respect the show of power inherent in waterfalls, I prefer the small ones for my photographs. I like it when the waterfall is part of the scenery, not the central point of it.

My main target for the trip was the Storulvån mountain station. It has a good reputation and it’s suitable for day hikers like me because the place is surrounded by mountains. The prices are a bit on the high side for something that’s part of the Youth Hostel chain, however let’s not forget that we’re almost up at the tree line. Another important thing to remember is that you get your money’s worth - I love that place!Since I’m partial to big breakfasts, I also invested in their morning feast. What can I say - breakfast for champions for sure. I was happy looking around the restaurant while eating - for once I felt at home as hiking pants and fleece sweaters were the norm, not the exception. Bliss.

But it was raining. A lot. I decided to make a brief trip to a suspension bridge over the Handölan river to feel out the conditions. It is relatively warm (no worries about snow then) but oh the rain… if there was anything good I could say about the weather, then at least the clouds weren’t very low as the mountains immediately around were visible. The bridge then, it was a bit of a disappointment, I expected wood planks and ropes but it was all metal. I crossed it over and came back and it has to be said that the metal constructions was a bit more reassuring than wood and ropes, even if one of the side support cables was worn cut.

Back in the hostel, I had to make some adjustments to my clothing because of the rain and warm temperature. There is something to be said for functional clothing – it really works and keeps you comfortable no matter what the conditions are. Out here the looks really don’t matter. Another good investment is contact lenses; I really hate it when you lose visibility because the water is running down the glasses.

So I climbed up the rather easy trail to the tree line and continued towards Sylarna. No Sylarna visible though – rain and clouds you know. At one point the rain got really heavy, so heavy that with the gusting wind, the rain drops felt almost like needles on my face and the sound they were making on my hood was deafening. I was lucky to have a crop off birches just off the trail so I found what little protection there was, but now I was starting to feel the effects of the conditions and all my rain guarding started to feel inadequate. I was not just a little worried to see that my rucksack was soaked – the camera was in there. When the worst rain dissipated, I went back on the trail and saw something move on the opposide side of the valley. Had to stop for a moment to see if it really was a person or a reindeer, and sure enough it was someone else braving the elements. He more than me, actually – he was hiking between the mountain cabins, I was just making small excursions. My short hikes in the rain and the wind might earn me bragging rights in the office, but out here I’m the novice.

By now I decided that it simply wasn’t worth the trouble anymore as Sylarna wouldn’t be visible anyway, so I turned back. I was definitely feeling less comfortable now. I was getting a bit cold, the rain somehow beat my face on my way back in like it had been walking out, and I definitely did not need the jacket side ventilation zips open anymore as I surmised that they had let in not only air, but also rain. Back in the hostel I unpacked the camera with some trepidation but was relieved to notice that although the bag was definitely not as waterproof as it should’ve been, the gear was dry – protected by the plastic bag and pack towel I had wrapped around it.

It was still only early afternoon and I hoped that the weather would turn at least a little bit so I could go out some more. But it just kept raining. A lot. And the wind was hard… the kind of wind that beats stormy waves in the surface of the smallest of puddles. Nope, just gotta hope for better weather tomorrow.

Despite all the discomforts and the slight disappointment of not having any photo ops, the day hasn’t been wasted. It doesn’t matter if the wind is so hard it almost knocks you off a bridge. It doesn’t matter if it’s raining so hard it cuts through your waterproof clothing. It doesn’t matter if the trail becomes a river of water and mud… what matters is that I’m out here and if only for a brief moment, I feel alive!

Yesterday was a total washout - heavy rain and heavy winds. So I was all the more relieved to see that it was no longer raining even if it still was overcast and I could finally do a hike up a mountain - my target was Storsnasen. I could see straight away that I was not going to reach the top because what had come down as rain down here had fallen as snow up there. I’m not experienced or brave enough to walk up and down mountains in tricky conditions.

The beginning of the hike was just about as boring as it gets – just level ground through the forest. Then I finally got to the marshes and the scenery got better (a proper view towards Storsnasen), however the trail had seen its best days as some of the wooden planks crossing the marshes were downright rotten or just simply missing, so the name of the game was to stay alert and walk carefully to avoid plunging in the cold water. I had seen on the map that there is a waterfall (named Silverfallet) running down from the mountain and sure enough, I could see the falls from the distance.

When I finally reached the falls, I was happy. Instead of just one big fall, there were numerous smaller ones along the whole way. So I don’t know which one of them was the actual Silverfallet or if that is a collective name for all of them, but it was nice in any case. Photo ops were thin on the ground however since the water falls in a ravine and it’s difficult to find a good viewpoint, but I did manage to shoot three of them. The higher up I got, the easier it would’ve been to shoot the falls, however the wind was also getting heavier with every metre up so the camera wouldn’t have been steady for long enough for slow shutterspeeds.

I hadn’t quite reached the high plateau when I decided that it was time to turn back. I don’t like heavy winds too much, especially if I’m alone on a mountain and bad weather is forecast for later in the day. I was almost able to lean on the wind, it was that hard. So I turned around at roughly 950 metres but once in the protection of the forest, everything was fine and dandy again. The hike back was somewhat more boring than the hike in, and what I had initially considered as “level ground” through the forest turned out to be anything but, and I was going up and down small hills all the time. You don’t notice these things with fresh legs… but with a hurting hip and a hungry stomach, it was disappointment after another until the car park finally was there.

Here it is - finally! - my “summer” holiday. I was originally going to go to Lapland, but since I was a bit tired from work I didn’t feel like driving that far. The weather was going to be on the poor side anyway so I didn’t want to go there for nothing - done that a few times already.

So I drove to Ånn (west from Åre, close to the Norwegian border) and when I got there, the first impression was – a small place. I don’t have anything against small places, on the contrary, it’s just that they somehow always take me by surprise. This is the kind of place where a café can advertise itself as the café – because it’s the only one! I wouldn’t have believed the train stops there if I didn’t see it myself… The railway station was just opposite the road from the youth hostel and I could see the train from the room window.

As the old adage goes, we work to live and not live to work.

Well, the jury is still out on that. Not my choice though, but I’m sure getting tired so please excuse me if I won’t be updating the blog for a while.