Day 1 | To Viterskalet Hut | 8km

I'm feeling absolutely drained on the small 50-seater plane to Hemavan. Arriving at Stockholm Airport late the previous night, I had a somewhat restless sleep, anxious about potentially missing my alarm for the early morning flight.

“Hemavan Airport” is just a small airfield with a little shed as a terminal. Waiting for my luggage, I start a conversation with a Swedish-German couple along with a Dutch fellow traveller. I quickly grab some gas from the camp store and head to the supermarket for groceries. The Dutch guy stands out with his massive backpack, loaded up with nine days' worth of food. I spend more time shopping and packing than the others, who have disappeared by the time I'm ready to hit the trail.

At Hemavan Fjällstation, I run into two friendly French hikers who have just completed their thru-hike and generously offer me some of their spare gas canisters. With the fresh supplies, I set off for the starting point of the Kungsleden trail. On my way, a fellow hiker warns me of strong winds and a tent pole mishap from the previous night.

Drizzling rain accompanies me through the skiing area, where I cross paths with numerous groups of trail runners who seem unfazed by the gloomy weather. Surprisingly, no one slips on the wet planks.

As I reach a river, I notice a few tents already pitched, creating a tempting campspot. However, I decide to press on a bit further. Near the Viterskalet hut, a group of young Swedes is arriving and being greeted by the wardens. Camping by the hut doesn't appear comfortable, so I continue for about a kilometre. I find a spacious, flat area with a toilet. It's a tad windy, and I briefly wonder if this is the spot where the guy I met earlier broke his tent pole. But I eventually find a sheltered nook in a sort of ditch and set up my tent.

Despite a hearty dinner, I remain uncomfortably cold and am concerned that I won't warm up. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, I pack up and make a quick return to the hut. Surprisingly, the brisk jog back has me feeling warm in no time. However, at the hut's entrance, I receive disappointing news: there are no free beds available. Disheartened, I pitch my tent behind the hut and cocoon myself in my rain jacket for added warmth.

Day 2 | To Tarnasjö Hut | 26km

I wake up feeling snug and toasty in the morning, although my legs are a bit tense. As I'm about to start packing, the rain begins again, prompting me to settle down and write in my diary. I'm grateful for the shelter of the hut, but the persistent wind is a reminder that the weather can change in an instant.

get a bit of a late start, and by the time I finish my breakfast, most of the guests from the hut have already moved on. The trail takes me through a picturesque valley, flanked by imposing mountains, despite the gentle rain. I pass by the group of young Swedes I encountered earlier, and then, I spot my first reindeer.

I decide to take a break at Syter hut, where I run into the friendly German-Swedish couple once more. They express their sympathy for my previous hut ordeal and kindly invite me to join them for dinner. We chat for quite a while, but I decline their invitation as I'm determined to continue to the next hut. The warden is exceptionally kind and inquires about availability, managing to secure the last available bed for me there.

The rain finally subsides, and I enjoy a pleasant walk, crossing several bridges. As I approach the next hut, I notice quite a few tents pitched along the lake. The hut's warden places me in a spacious dorm with ten Swedish girls, and it's a warm and welcoming atmosphere. The cozy camaraderie is heartwarming, especially when, as night falls, some of the girls continue reading by the soft glow of a candle.

Day 3 | To Vuomatjähkka | 22km

The forecast had called for rain, but almost none fell. A lucky break. I set off at 10 AM, my pack feeling heavier than expected—maybe I had packed too much, or maybe I just needed time to get used to the weight again.

By lunchtime, I reached Serve Hut, where I met a group of hikers. Their DIY rain protection—tape-wrapped shoes—caught my eye, and we chatted about potential campsites ahead. They pointed me toward a flat spot after the next climb, which sounded promising.

Later in the day, I came across a small shelter and stopped to take a look inside. A few trekking poles were leaning against the wall outside. As I opened the door, the smell of a hot meal drifted out. Inside, cooking his dinner, was Paul—the Dutch guy from my flight. A surprising but welcome reunion.

After finishing our meals in the shelter, we set up our tents on the flat area nearby. The night was calm, and I was just about to crawl into my tent after brushing my teeth when something in the distance caught my eye—a flashing light. It flickered, disappeared, then reappeared. Paul noticed it too.

Was it a hiker with a headlamp? No, it moved too fast. Then a noise—growing louder. A group of young people on a quad? But out here, in the middle of nowhere, miles from the nearest town? The uncertainty made the situation a little unnerving, and I was glad I wasn’t alone.

As the lights and noise approached, the mystery revealed itself: a rescue team. They stopped and asked if we had sent an emergency call. We hadn’t. I mentioned that I had passed a few hikers and spotted a tent perched on the ridge earlier. They nodded and continued on, disappearing into the night.

A bit of unexpected late-night drama on the trail; but thankfully, we weren’t the ones in need of rescue.

Day 4 | To Ammernäs | 20km

My day begins early at 4:30 am when nature calls. Taking advantage of the early rise, I use the opportunity to adjust my tent lines as the wind has picked up. After the quick fix, I slip back into my sleeping bag for some more shut-eye.

I wake up again at 6 am, greeted by the sight of the sun slowly ascending over the valley. The surrounding area is alive with the cheerful chirping of unfamiliar bird species.

The hike to Aigert hut is pleasant, and I encounter fellow hikers along the way. I strike up a conversation with a guy from Berlin and two Swedish section hikers. The Berliner mentions a challenging 3-4 hour ascent coming up the next day, which prompts me to change my plans. Instead, I decide to stay in Ammernäs, which is all downhill from here.

Curiously, Paul, my fellow hiker from the plane, seems to have vanished. I begin my descent down the mountain, and to my surprise, I run into him again at the Ammernäs supermarket. We decide to inquire about accommodation at the guide center, and one of the guides offers to rent us an apartment for 300 kronor each. We take a quick look, and it's a spacious apartment with three bedrooms, a fully equipped kitchen, and a roomy living area. It's an awesome deal compared to the alternative of two single rooms at 390 kroner each at the nearby Naturum.

Day 5 | To Campsite 11km before Sjnulttjie Shelter | 32km

It's a beautiful morning, and the weather forecast promises clear skies in the days ahead. So, it's time to rack up some kilometers. We ascend the slopes, and though the sun is shining, the higher we climb, the windier it gets.

We opt for a shortcut to Hobäcken, which involves a steep climb afterward. At the summit, the winds are fierce. As we head towards a bridge, a fellow hiker from Saxiona advises us to camp in that area or on the other side of the plateau.

We check out a potential shelter, but it turns out to be a private hut. With no other option, we decide to continue our journey and cover the 7 kilometers across the plateau. Along the way, we're greeted by the sight of numerous reindeer. After some brisk walking and following Paul, we're thrilled to reach the other side. We find a lovely campsite just beyond.

Day 6 | To Bläkka Shelter | 22km

I had to make several trips to relieve myself during the night, disrupting my sleep. When I woke up at 4 am, I noticed the sunrise was slowly beginning to paint the sky. The tent was frozen, covered in condensation from the chilly night.

Waking up once more at 8 am, I was greeted by a sunny morning. I packed up and enjoyed my breakfast in the great outdoors. The trail was dotted with numerous delightful campsites, and I encountered plenty of reindeer along the way. Throughout the day, I crossed paths with around six hikers, exchanging friendly greetings.

At Stülltje hut, I had a chat with a kind Swedish gentleman. After covering nearly 11 kilometers, I stopped there for lunch. I also spotted two hunters, as it happened to be bird hunting season.

The walk was relatively easy and predominantly flat, with the terrain offering a smooth path. My journey led me to Brasjäkka shelter around 5:30 pm. Here, I learned from a Swedish section hiker that the upcoming place, Bäversholmen, roughly translates to "home of the beaver." It sounded rather charming! I decided to set up camp 3 kilometers before reaching Bäversholmen.

Day 7 | To Pjeljekaise Shelter | 27km

As I arrived at Beaverholmen, a small resort with a shop, my hopes were dashed to find it closed. Continuing on to Adolfström, I spotted a promising cafe, only to be met with disappointment again – it was closed as well. The whole area seemed eerily deserted, and even the campsite was off-limits.

However, my day took a turn for the better when I crossed paths with some hunters who were out bird hunting. We had a pleasant chat, and I couldn't resist taking a photo with their adorable dog. 

As I continued, a slight drizzle began. Along the way, I reached a bridge with plenty of campsites and public toilets. I thought we'd reach the shelter early, but the last 7 kilometers of the trail were exceptionally stony, making progress slow and strenuous, almost like navigating a winter trail.

Ultimately, I decided to sleep in a hut due to the challenging, stony ground. It was quite fascinating to read the trail book, with entries dating back to the 1980s, offering a glimpse into the history of the trail and the experiences of those who had hiked it over the years.

Day 8 | To Jäkkvik | 7km

I had a fantastic night's sleep in the hut, and there are only 8 kilometers left to Jäkkvik. I've noticed that I've been waking up to pee multiple times during the night – am I drinking too much water? The hike promises to be an easier one from this point, certainly better than the challenging terrain yesterday afternoon before reaching the shelter.

I find myself on a lovely plateau early in the day, and I come across some informative signs about herding reindeer in the area. It brings to mind what I had read in the trail book at the shelter the previous day about hikers being awakened by helicopters and snowmobiles used to gather herds and move them to different areas.

As I descend, I decide to capture a video of the muddy trek. However, I experience a sudden mishap as I slip on a plank and find myself knee-deep in mud. It's a nerve-wracking moment, but thankfully, my phone escapes with just a few sprinkles of mud, and it doesn't end up in the mucky puddle. I briefly contemplate continuing to Jäkkvik in my mud-caked state but then decide to put on my other legging. I use some of my drinking water to clean my shoes. Along the way, I pass by another shelter but opt not to stop.

While making my way downhill, I encounter four day hikers collecting mushrooms. I take the opportunity to dip my shoes in the river, keeping my muddy pants securely stored in a plastic bag I had luckily kept from the supermarket in Hemavan. 

Upon arriving at the welcoming hostels, I notice a considerable number of Germans around, including a couple on sabbatical and two guys hiking. I quickly make use of the washer and dryer. Interestingly, the dryer resembles a cupboard and even proves suitable for drying shoes.

A guy called Nick arrives later, having started his journey in Hemavan just on Tuesday. We head to the big supermarket, but there isn't much hiker food available due to the end of the season. I find only large gas cans, so I decide to retrieve one from the hiker box at the hostel. More southbound hikers join our gathering, and at the end, there are about 15 of us congregating in the living room and kitchen. We decide to camp outside, and luckily, the night remains comfortably warm.

Day 9 | Vuonatjviken + 7km

We set out at 10 am with the goal of catching the 6 pm ferry. The day begins with an easy forest walk, not too rocky. Paul kindly volunteered to do the rowing as we came to the first rowing spot. 

Later on, there's a steep climb, and my pack felt incredibly heavy after the resupply. I breathed a sigh of relief when I reached a plateau where my feet could regain their speed. I followed Nick, who was a bit ahead, acting as a pacemaker.

Taking a quick break and enjoying a snack on the other side of the Fjäll, I had the pleasure of watching some cheerful birds as they shook their feathers. With plenty of time before the boat was due, I embraced the chance to take it easy, relishing the moment instead of rushing.

We ended up being approximately two hours early for the boat, but the bright sun was shining, and I discovered a sheltered spot behind a cabin. We all took the opportunity to cook our meals, planning to continue walking for another 7 kilometers after the boat ride.

I decided to prepare a ramen bomb, given the limited options in the supermarket. There was a moment of uncertainty about whether to cook now or later, but ultimately, I chose to cook at this moment, as I expected to arrive at the camp late.

Day 10 | Tentsite by river at km214 | 26km

I enjoyed a cozy, warm sleep on the soft ground. While it wasn't perfectly flat, the moss beneath my tent made for a wonderfully comfortable bed. The morning brought a deep sense of contentment. 

Shortly after leaving camp, I found myself crossing the arctic circle, a fact that had somehow slipped my mind until then. The realization that we were so far north hit me with a pleasant surprise.

I journeyed across a beautiful plateau, basking in the full brilliance of the sunshine. I thought I was alone but noticed a couple of hikers taking a break in the distance, which I only realized once I had squatted down. Hopefully, they were far enough away or need glasses to see details in the distance – oops!

For lunch, I paused at a Sami shelter, and suddenly, a reindeer strolled by incredibly close. It was a surprising encounter. The hike continued, leading me down to the river. What initially appeared to be a promising campsite, though a bit early in the day, turned out to be swarmed with mosquitoes. I ended up retreating into my tent to enjoy dinner in peace.

Day 11 | To Kvikkjokk | 29km

Sleeping by a lake and camp on grass was not a good idea. I should have known.I woke various times at night staring at my phone in the hope that dawn would come soon. Partly because I was cold, partly because there was some rock below my tent. And of course: a lot of condensation due to being so close to water. Woke up at 5 am. Should I get up or try to fall asleep again? I would definitely not get warm again just lying around. So, I decide to pack. I leave a note for Pau and leave camp at 6.15am. Its the first time I listen to music since I started this trail and had a lovely early morning walks slightly uphill, passing a lake and a couple of nice campsites, protected ones that would have been a better choice than the one we chose yesterday. Oh well! 

Awesome reflections on a lake. Everything is so peaceful and fits perfectly with the electronic music I am listening too in that moment. I am superhappy. What a great way to start the day!

After roughly two hours I pass by Nick’s camp where he just started packing. Had a quick chat and continued. Steep uphill to little plateau. No one is there except for Nick who is ahead again. So very quiet and peaceful there with a herd of reindeer in the distance. They start moving once they see us. A baby reindeer stops right on the trail and looks at us until Mama reindeer picks it up and they run to follow the others further up to a field of snow.  I could have stopped and starred at them for much longer. Sun finally comes out. Lovely walk to a hut where I have a coffee break with Nick. And if had never used a lighter before, I burn a whole into my brand new rain jacket. 

Then we run down to the Kvikkjokk lake where its time for another boatride. Well, running down is what we would like to do but there are so many roots on the ground that one could easily trip over. Not pleasant, especially not when downhill. 

We call Björn, the boatdriver, who says that he could be there in 35 minutes. Shortly after the call two other hikers arrive. The boat ride is entertaining as Björn was interested in where we all were from and told us about growing potatoes up here, a hobby of his.

Lovely ride across the lake with several sandbanks. Once arrived at the Kvikkjokk Fjällstation, I thought it would be nice to have a room. It was pretty busy though and the receptionist told me they are fully booked unless I would be happy to be in a “dogs room” (special rooms that are reserved for hikers with dogs in a separate building). I totally didnt mind. Yummy dinner with the others from the boat ride. The fact that reindeer steak was on the menu made me cringe a bit but yes, its totally normal up here.  

Day 12 | To Parte Hut + 5km | 20km

Embarked on the trail today with the latest start ever, kicking off at 11 am. After satisfying my yogurt craving, I discovered one in the shop at the Fjällstation and relaxed in the lobby. Met a Czech hiker named Tanja, who joined me to the trailhead, emphasizing, "You cannot hide from the rain; this is the mountains. Just walk and make sure your sleeping bag and clothes stay dry."

Surprisingly, what seemed like an unpromising morning turned into another sunny day. The initial moments felt a bit sluggish and burdensome once the journey was underway. Encountered a young Swedish couple who had already covered 900 km from their hometown, aiming to hike all the way to the point where Norway, Sweden, and Finland meet. They exuded a laid-back vibe, traveling on a budget and appeared remarkably happy and relaxed. I couldn't help but envy their lack of a tight schedule (90 days). Set up camp near a bridge, 4 km after Parte hut, once again seeking refuge from mosquitoes with a delightful dinner safely enjoyed inside my tent.

Day 13 | To Aktze Hut | 16km

The night brought rain, but inside my cozy sleeping bag, I remained snug and the air around was still warm. I contemplated having breakfast at the shelter, approximately 7 kilometers away, but I decided to have something to eat right away to fuel up.

Upon climbing a hill, I was treated to captivating views of the valley with its intriguing land formations. It was another beautiful morning, even if it was a bit foggy. Upon reaching the next shelter, I came across two Czech hikers who had completed the entire journey from Abisko and intended to conclude their hike in Kvikkjokk before catching a ride to Stockholm. They even carried a hip flask and offered Paul and me a sip, which we happily accepted. Soon, Zach and Asha arrived, and we all enjoyed our meals together.

The upcoming downhill stretch was quite relaxed, even though a rain shower made an appearance. We all reconvened at the shelter by the next lake crossing to wait for the boat, scheduled to depart at 5:15 pm. We had plenty of time to exchange PCT and other hiking stories, as well as indulge in more food. I also changed my clothes again, as I had gotten pretty soaked in the rain. It made me question whether my new and expensive rain jacket was about to let me down.

The water in the lake was peculiar and had an unpleasant smell. The boat ride across was fascinating, providing views into the Sarek National Park. However, as soon as we were back on land, heavy rain began to pour, not too far from Aktze hut.

The hut store had a pleasant surprise in store: chocolate and beer! While there, I had a chat with two German gentlemen who appeared a bit weathered. They had been exploring Sarek for several days but decided to leave due to the unfavorable weather conditions.

Curious about their experiences, I asked them about the conditions there. They explained that it could often be quite challenging, with trails sometimes non-existent. Walking through dense vegetation could be tiring, unless a moose had already created a path. Additionally, the terrain can get pretty muddy during rainy spells, and progress could be as slow as 2 kilometers per hour. It certainly sounded like an adventurous endeavor!

After shopping at the hut store, we sought refuge on the porch to prepare dinner and escape the rain. To our surprise, the warden was rather unfriendly and insisted we leave if we weren't planning to stay. We negotiated that we would at least finish our food before departing. Eventually, we decided to stay, and to our delight, we had a whole cabin to ourselves. Asha expertly lit a fire in the oven, where we hung up our wet clothes to dry.

Day 14 | To Shelter 9km before Saltalouokta | 19km

Our clothes had dried nicely by morning, and all four of us set out for the junction leading to the Skierfe trail. The weather forecast indicated a clear morning with rain expected in the afternoon, providing us with a good opportunity to make a side trip in the hopes of capturing stunning views into the valley and Sarek.

The trail started off quite muddy and boggy, with numerous waterlogged areas. It offered a glimpse of what the non-existent trails in Sarek might be like. About 1 kilometer in, there were already breathtaking views down the valley, with colorful streams of glacial water. I had initially considered not continuing all the way, but when a Belgian hiker descending mentioned that it was the most beautiful thing he had seen since Hemavan, I decided to push onward.

The ascent was long and increasingly rocky towards the end. Two Swedish hikers with large, heavy boots were camping about 30 minutes below the summit. Upon reaching the summit, it was somewhat disappointing, as clouds began moving up from the valley shortly after we finished our brief photo session. As we descended, it started to drizzle. I was relieved to have my jacket, but Zach, who was still in his T-shirt, didn't seem to mind the rain at all.

Upon our return to the junction with the Kungsleden trail, all our backpacks were still there, as we had only taken our water bottles with us. We paused for a quick lunch break, ravenous from the hike.

As we resumed our walk, the first raindrops fell. Despite the windy, rainy conditions on the plateau, it was absolutely breathtaking to witness a large herd of reindeer crossing the trail right in front of us. Truly amazing! I attempted to call the boat person from this high point, as there was a sign indicating that signal would be available here. I managed to reach a lady on the phone, but she couldn't hear me clearly. On the way down, I crossed paths with a trailrunner who informed me that the last boat would be leaving at 4 pm.

Feeling a sense of urgency, I quickened my pace, passing Paul, who was also soaking wet. When I reached the jetty, people were already boarding the boat, and the driver informed me that she would return in 30 minutes to pick us up. I headed to the shelter to change my wet clothes while chatting with a French-German couple who were hiking a section of the Kungsleden. Asha and Zach arrived, and the four of us enjoyed a speedy yet somewhat costly boat ride over to Sugorstugorna hut.

After conversing with the hut's warden, who was babysitting the boat driver's son while shuttling hikers, we decided to walk the 11 kilometers to the emergency shelter in the hopes that it would be unoccupied. It was an easy, flat walk, but halfway through, it started raining again, and the temperature dropped significantly. I got wet once more and pushed myself to walk as quickly as possible to avoid getting too cold.

After what felt like an eternity, the shelter came into view, and I raised my trekking poles to signal to Asha, who was behind me, that it wasn't far. Upon arrival at the shelter, we encountered two German hikers who were cooking after several incredible yet wet days in Sarek. Fortunately, they had already started the oven, so it was delightfully warm inside. I changed my clothes yet again, finding the windows fogged up from the humidity and wet hiker clothes of six people scattered about. We played some tunes on our phones with the little battery we had left and enjoyed our dinners.

Despite the narrow bench in the hut, Asha and I decided to sleep inside. It may have been snug, but at least it was warm.

Day 15 | To Saltalouokta | 9km

I woke up just after 7 am when the German guys came in for breakfast. After a brief chat, they left to catch the 11 am boat at Saltoluokta and then take the bus.

The four of us were in high spirits, as it was only 8 or 9 kilometers to the Fjällstation. I contemplated moving on, unsure of my timing after yesterday's detour to Skierfe, which hadn't been in my original plans. However, the Fjällstation was just too tempting to pass up. It was very modern, with a fantastic shop, restaurant, and a cozy lobby with a fireplace and comfortable chairs that practically begged you to stay.

We were all in the same building, and despite having booked a bed in a dorm, I ended up with a twin room all to myself. I decided to pay the 150 SEK for the washing machine since my clothes carried a peculiar scent, a mixture of last night's dinner and the oven fire.

I bought a veggie pizza in the store to prepare it in the spacious and well-equipped kitchen in our cabin, followed by an afternoon nap. I took a final stroll to the main building and back, and then, unexpectedly, they appeared: the Northern lights.

Day 16 | To Teusajaure Hut + 1km | 15km

It's time to say goodbye to fellow hikers Zach, Asha, and her partner who has just arrived. They've decided to take a rest day. I'm taking the 11 am ferry with Paul. Upon reaching the other side of the lake, we realize that there is no connecting bus available at this time. However, a kind staff member at the fjällstation asks his colleague, who has a day off, if he could give us a ride. Lucky for us, he agrees! He's incredibly friendly and shares many insights about the area during our journey. What a fantastic ride! He drops us off at Vakotavare at 12 pm, even faster than the bus would have taken.

Unfortunately, I notice that my water bottle appears to have fallen out in the car. I substitute it with a peanut butter jar I find near the hut. Further along the trail, I encounter an older German gentleman who is trekking cross-country. He wonders why so many people are in a rush. "The Germans only talk about Kungsleden and Sarek," he remarks, "while there are so many other things to see." I can't help but ponder if I, too, am in a hurry. I had contemplated skipping the detour to Skierfe, but I'm glad that I decided to go for it.

The walk to the next lake crossing is relatively easy, but I start to quicken my pace down the hill after a couple on the trail informs me about a 4 pm boat. The closer I get to the lake shore, the more people I see. Clearly, I have missed the boat! To my surprise, Paul is still there and hasn't taken the motorboat ride to the other side. I check out the little shelter close to the shore, but he insists on rowing, and I'm grateful that he does, as the distance is quite significant.

Upon arriving on the other side at 7 pm, we check out the hut, and there is only one other hiker there at the moment. We have a pleasant conversation with the host, who kindly invites us to stay and shares insights about the upcoming snowy weather. Kinda broke after staying at the Saltalouokta Fjällstaion, we decide to move a bit further up the hill to pitch our tents, and although it's not easy to find flat spots, we manage to locate two small areas close to a waterfall. I hope for a relatively warm night.

Day 17 | To Singi Hut | 22km

I wake up around 11 pm, feeling quite warm. I remove a layer, but it's challenging to fall back asleep because the camp spot isn't entirely even. My usual practice of lying on the ground before pitching my tent to check for flat ground seems to have failed this time. Throughout the night, I experiment with different ways to position my sleeping pad. After what feels like an eternity, I resort to using my pack under my feet to achieve some level of comfort.

There's a slight drizzle when I wake up, but it fortunately stops by the time I finish my breakfast. I'm feeling relaxed because I'm confident I'll make it to Abisko in time unless something unexpected happens, like an injury, heavy snowfall, or incessant rain.

After lunch at the Kaitumjaure hut, after crossing a bridge a beautiful, wide valley opens up. I'm so happy that I can't help but scream for joy. Apparently, there's an echo, so Paul, who is quite a bit ahead, turns around a bit puzzled, wondering if everything is okay. "All good!" I shout, waving. The Singi hut comes into sight, but it's still quite a walk to get there. A handful of hikers pass in groups of 2 or 3. It starts raining a bit, but not enough for me to go through the hassle of putting on my rain cover. A giant rainbow appears.

Upon reaching the Singi hut, I'm initially inclined to camp and pay the 200SEK fee to use the facilities. However, Paul is contemplating moving on to the next shelter, 5 km away, as rain is predicted for the following day. Ultimately, we both decide to stay. The sun reemerges during dinner, and I take some time to explore the shop and chat with the young wardens. This is their first time as hosts, and they've been here for a total of 5 weeks out of 6. They went on hikes to nearby peaks, including Kebnekaise, taking them 10 hours with no special gear apart from good warming gloves. It's a day that ends with me retiring to my tent early.

Day 18 | To Tjäkta Shelter | 20km

I learn a valuable lesson as I broke one of my golden rules: "Do not sleep on wet and cold ground!" The consequences were evident as I spent a restless night, frequently waking up due to the chill. I resorted to doing push-ups to generate some warmth, longing for the night to pass quickly. I finally fell into a deep sleep around 2 am, only to wake up refreshed at 7 am.

Despite the poor night's sleep, my spirits are surprisingly high, and I feel quite awake.  I join Paul for breakfast, and around 8:30 am, we embark on our journey. After a brief 5 km trek, we come across a shelter that offers a welcome escape from the chilly weather; warm inside due to several hikers who camped and head their breakfasts there.

We continue our trek towards the Selka hut, and upon our arrival, the rain returns. The hut is managed by a delightful young host and features a fantastic shop where I make some interesting discoveries, including freeze-dried smoothies and canned pineapple. A vegan lentil dish also captures my attention. The warden kindly suggests that we utilize the porch of the sauna building (unfortunately closed due to COVID) for our lunch break, providing shelter from the rain. Five hikers, including us, congregate in this protected spot to prepare their meals. The other hikers are heading south to Nikkalouokta and Kvikkjokk after coming from the pass. One of them mentions that it took 4-5 hours to reach Selka from the Tjakta hut.

The vegan lentil dish significantly boosts my energy, and I practically jog toward the pass. We make a stop at a shelter situated at the pass and receive information from a Belgian couple who had phoned the Tjakta hut earlier, reporting that only one bed remained for the night. They decide to investigate, and this prompts Paul and me to ponder our options. In the end, we choose to stay and sleep in the shelter instead of potentially camping at higher altitudes.

Around 6:30 pm, following our dinner, we hear noises from outside. Two Belgian hikers enter, seeking refuge from the strong winds and falling snow, waiting for their friend who is still making their way to the pass. It becomes a cozy gathering in the shelter. A few minutes later, another hiker, slightly wet and frozen, arrives. They all plan to hike further south to a campsite about 2 km down the trail. Paul and I express doubt regarding the availability of suitable camping spots in the rocky terrain, but they decide to head out after a while.

We decide not to use too much of the firewood; Paul chops a small log from the storage shed and lights a small fire in the oven. I start writing in my journal, while Paul indulges in his Netflix series to pass the time. Suddenly, we hear noises from outside again, which is unusual as it's already growing dark. The door swings open, and a hiker enters, seeking shelter for the night. Hailing from the Czech Republic, he is heading south after arriving from Alejaure earlier in the day. He kindly offers us tea, and we all settle in cozily within the shelter, now comfortably warmed by the small oven.

Day 19 | To Radunjarga Shelter | 25km

The previous night, we set our alarm for 6 am, hoping to pack up before encountering anyone from the Tjäkta hut. Just as we were leaving the shelter, two early risers arrived.

More people were on the trail again, and I engaged in conversations with a few fellow hikers. Upon reaching Alesjaure hut, the sun unexpectedly emerged. Yay! Although it would have been pleasant to have lunch outdoors, the slight wind led us inside, surprisingly without any fee. A German couple, also taking a break, shared details about the nearby Vistas valley, describing its beauty with charming shelters and huts and significantly fewer people.

While taking a break, a German couple mentioned the nearby Vistas valley, describing it as very beautiful with charming shelters and huts and significantly fewer people. Meanwhile, Paul discovered that there was a shelter about 8 km further up the trail, where we planned to camp—likely only a 2-hour hike as the terrain is generally flat.

Despite the shelter coming into sight quite early, I couldn't spot any trail leading to it. A hiker coming from the north mentioned some quad tracks a bit further ahead. I followed the trail for a while without seeing any tracks and decided to go bushwhacking for a more direct route. Eventually, I reached the shelter, where Paul and the German couple were already enjoying their coffee. Another German couple, trekking southbound, arrived at dinnertime to camp at the same spot.

Day 20 | To Abisko | 27km

I experience another chilly night, but it's an improvement from the previous ones. I'm relieved that this is my final day in a tent. Waking up at 5:30 am, I decide to enjoy an early and leisurely breakfast inside the shelter. Paul joins me a bit later, and we commence our hike around 7:30 am. The "autobahn," wooden planks facilitating walking on uneven and wet terrain, is quite slippery this morning. I nearly slip several times, prompting me to walk beside the tracks, even though it's muddy and challenging.

Once we hit the trail, the morning unfolds into an easy walk for the next couple of hours. Dark skies loom but every moment is magical, especially in the early hours. Around 11 am, we reach Abiskojaure hut, deciding to take an early lunch break. The host, a friendly soul, offers to open the shop for us. The small shops in the huts are often closed during the day as guests leave in the morning, and new guests tend not to arrive before 4 pm or so, giving the warden and personnel time to clean and organize or go for a small hike.

I cook my last freeze-dried meal (couscous) but only eat half to avoid feeling too full for the remaining walk. An older lady helping out at the hut expresses her preference for the smaller, narrower trails over the wide ones leading to Abisko. It's only when hiking out that I understand what she meant—the trail is almost as wide as a gravel road. After some trail runners pass me, I stow my trekking poles into my pack. Although the colors are still beautiful, I'm somewhat disappointed with this part of the trail. I feel that the trail for southbounders starts a bit boring, but with all the initial excitement, they might not see it that way.

A sign indicates 4 km to Abisko, and the final stretch feels like an eternity until captivating rapids come into view. The trail becomes populated with hikers heading in the opposite direction, beginning their journeys. Abisko seems within reach, and my pace quickens until I spot a wooden structure marking the start of the Kungsleden trail. I've essentially walked in the "wrong" direction, but the wooden wall with the names of the huts I passed brings a surge of happiness.

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With my finisher photo captured, I hurry to the Fjällstation, where the lobby buzzes with activity. It's the perfect moment to fulfil my promise to Paul—a beer, owed since the rowing section after Jäckvik. Engaging in conversations with fellow hikers, we later move to a guesthouse on the other side of Abisko. The windowless bedrooms, reminding me of the Stockholm airport hotel, feel peculiar, but who needs windows in the dark of night?

After a refreshing shower, the nearby supermarket becomes my playground. The array of choices overwhelms me. Despite it being dinner time, I decide to kick off my feast with a family pack of my beloved kanelbullar (cinnamon rolls). Hmmmh ….