While my feet are drying after crossing the river, I get a moment rest and then…
…Then I meet Brend from Australia. He also wants to traverse Europe 7000 Km. from North to South.
Now Brend’s turn to cross the river
Far away the Sami settlement. Doesn’t look very appealing to me
Close up from between Tosca’s ears
Altavattn cabin
The blond German Bjorn in front. The Swedish guy with dark eyes, Nikkels, standing behind.
On the road again
How beautifull. An entire world just for me. Clean air, drinking from the river, no trash. Nobody hurrying me. No one telling me what to do.
Also for Tosca it should stay interesting. Here she found rendeer antlers.
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Tosca’s fur is shining of good health. I write this because before my trip people told me this was animal cruelty.
Right across the pass I am on a plateau with far away a Sami settlement
Where to go? Don’t get lost here. Down there across that river?
Where can I cross here?
No choice. Get going.
Steep mountain peaks. Beautiful landscape, meditative, perfect weather, photos. Two times I had to cross a high pass. Lots of wet snow, a bit scared to sink through a snow bridge. A snow bridge is a snowfield, sometimes 20m wide, sometimes a few hundred, bridging a brook or a river under it. I thought if you sink in there a few meters and you get into icy cold water, you’ll freeze in a minute. Phone no reach, so in that case my adventure will end there. And, there are worse ways to go down. A real hero is a pilot who goes down in flames, a sailor who is drowning, a mountain climber in an avalanche, and me, sinking in a snow bridge. Haha, better to just make fun of it. I have already fulfilled my procreative functions, and with great pride! (Hope my children take note of this), undoubtedly I made my Sonja happy (and now Tosca!), I used my social opportunities, with the help of my wife Sonja and my much esteemed fellow practitioners and last but not least I bred a beautifull flock of Mergelland sheep, to name but a few.
I’m walking around the Coal’bmoai’vi mountain. Follow the Gasakjåkka River.
Finally, I come on top of the valley of the Vuomajåkka, cross there the first of today’s two passes, here at about 1000 m. altitude, which is 500 m. above the tree line. This saddle is located between the tops of the Cap’pesbak’ti and the Ganesbakti. So now everyone knows exactly where I am! For many hours almost continuously through the snow.
How do I get across that river down there? The fast-flowing mountain river Vuomajåkka is a few tens of meters wide, mostly about half a meter deep, but with many large, slippery boulders that protrude above the water. However, also much deeper pieces with fast flowing water and waterfalls. Taking off my backpack, shoes off, putting on water shoes, drying on the other side of the river, being attacked by the bugs, putting on my walking shoes again, backpacking again, it all takes a lot of time. And if you happen to find a good place to cross, be careful not to lose your balance on those edges of often smooth, rocky blocks, with a too heavy backpack. So first I go searching a few hundred meters upstream, then downstream, looking for a bridgeable piece with many rocks. Bad luck. Then just get going. Nevertheless, shoes off. The water is icy cold, but now no time for softies. OK. Wir haben es wieder geschafft. We did it again. I give myself a break, to let the feet dry, and, playing the hard guy, I somewhat ignore the attacks of the mosquitoes.
And there comes Brend. Brend is an Australian guy from Melbourne, 37 y. young. Although I did not know the details, he was completely fed up with his living situation. I do not care what presidency candidate Hillary Clinton does, he said. He also dreamed of going to Patagonia, in Argentina. Hopes he can make a living with travelling. Brend had bought an apartment 10 years ago in Melbourne. He paid off his mortgage in 10 years and now received 150 E a week for rent. That’s what he must live on. Brend wants to walk 7000 km. from Cape North to the South of Italy, the E-1 hiking trail.
Brend again encountered two Germans who also walk from Cape North to the South of Italy. But they only go for the performance, for the result. They continuously follow the shortest street route. Seems a trend. That asphalt running does not appeal to me, even though the performance is no less. Although my route is not primarily intended to be cultural and although the social contacts not always take the first place, I like having followed many ancient pilgrimages and other routes, such as the Roman Via de la Plata, across Spain, the Santiagoroutes in Spain, France and Belgium, the modern Dutch Pieterpad, the hundreds of years old Marskramersroute near Twente (Nl) and Germany, also known as the Handelsweg, the medieval Ochsenweg in northern Germany and further across Denmark. And the 650 km. Olavs pilgrimage route through a beautiful part of Norway and Sweden, the King’s Road, Kungsleden In Sweden, and now the Nordkalottleden that runs through Sweden, Norway and here in Finland and continuing in Norway again in a few days. Apart from interesting landscapes, there are a lot of cultural side effects.
After an interesting hour for my feet to get dry, Brend and I continue our journeys in opposite directions. Photo of Brend wading through river Vuomajåkka.
Three times today a river is crossed, freezing cold, not slipping. Tosca is being taken away by the river once, but to her it seems fun rather than awkward. The dog is incredable. Never exhausted. Just like some of the dogs of Australian aboriginals turned into the wild some 10.000 years ago and managed to keep themselves alive in the wild, the later dingo’s, I think that Tosca would be successful. About 10-20 percent of her food she catches herself, walking on a leash !, mostly lemmings. Her fur is shining of health, never tired. Snowfields are her lust and her life. She rolls and rolls and slides down the snow slope on her back, also to cool the mosquito bites. Now, July 31st, at my Altvatten cabin, she stays outside, tied up, waiting until I finish updating blogs from July 23rd to 31st.
We descend along a sami summer settlement all the way down the valley Lai’revag’gi, right on the slope of the Ruaov’doalvit. Their cottages are less than my overnight cabins. Here and there next to the cabin a quod or how do you write that?
I’m walking around the Coal’bmoai’vi mountain. Follow the Gasakjåkka River.
Finally, I come on top of the valley of the Vuomajåkka, cross there the first of today’s two passes, here at about 1000 m. altitude, which is 500 m. above the tree line. This saddle is located between the tops of the Cap’pesbak’ti and the Ganesbakti. So now everyone knows exactly where I am! For many hours almost continuously through the snow.
How do I get across that river down there? The fast-flowing mountain river Vuomajåkka is a few tens of meters wide, mostly about half a meter deep, but with many large, slippery boulders that protrude above the water. However, also much deeper pieces with fast flowing water and waterfalls. Taking off my backpack, shoes off, putting on water shoes, drying on the other side of the river, being attacked by the bugs, putting on my walking shoes again, backpacking again, it all takes a lot of time. And if you happen to find a good place to cross, be careful not to lose your balance on those edges of often smooth, rocky blocks, with a too heavy backpack. So first I go searching a few hundred meters upstream, then downstream, looking for a bridgeable piece with many rocks. Bad luck. Then just get going. Nevertheless, shoes off. The water is icy cold, but now no time for softies. OK. Wir haben es wieder geschafft. We did it again. I give myself a break, to let the feet dry, and, playing the hard guy, I somewhat ignore the attacks of the mosquitoes.
And there comes Brend. Brend is an Australian guy from Melbourne, 37 y. young. Although I did not know the details, he was completely fed up with his living situation. I do not care what presidency candidate Hillary Clinton does, he said. He also dreamed of going to Patagonia, in Argentina. Hopes he can make a living with travelling. Brend had bought an apartment 10 years ago in Melbourne. He paid off his mortgage in 10 years and now received 150 E a week for rent. That’s what he must live on. Brend wants to walk 7000 km. from Cape North to the South of Italy, the E-1 hiking trail.
Brend again encountered two Germans who also walk from Cape North to the South of Italy. But they only go for the performance, for the result. They continuously follow the shortest street route. Seems a trend. That asphalt running does not appeal to me, even though the performance is no less. Although my route is not primarily intended to be cultural and although the social contacts not always take the first place, I like having followed many ancient pilgrimages and other routes, such as the Roman Via de la Plata, across Spain, the Santiagoroutes in Spain, France and Belgium, the modern Dutch Pieterpad, the hundreds of years old Marskramersroute near Twente (Nl) and Germany, also known as the Handelsweg, the medieval Ochsenweg in northern Germany and further across Denmark. And the 650 km. Olavs pilgrimage route through a beautiful part of Norway and Sweden, the King’s Road, Kungsleden In Sweden, and now the Nordkalottleden that runs through Sweden, Norway and here in Finland and continuing in Norway again in a few days. Apart from interesting landscapes, there are a lot of cultural side effects.
After an interesting hour for my feet to get dry, Brend and I continue our journeys in opposite directions. Photo of Brend wading through river Vuomajåkka.
Three times today a river is crossed, freezing cold, not slipping. Tosca is being taken away by the river once, but to her it seems fun rather than awkward. The dog is incredable. Never exhausted. Just like some of the dogs of Australian aboriginals turned into the wild some 10.000 years ago and managed to keep themselves alive in the wild, the later dingo’s, I think that Tosca would be successful. About 10-20 percent of her food she catches herself, walking on a leash !, mostly lemmings. Her fur is shining of health, never tired. Snowfields are her lust and her life. She rolls and rolls and slides down the snow slope on her back, also to cool the mosquito bites. Now, July 31st, at my Altvatten cabin, she stays outside, tied up, waiting until I finish updating blogs from July 23rd to 31st.
We descend along a sami summer settlement all the way down the valley Lai’revag’gi, right on the slope of the Ruaov’doalvit. Their cottages are less than my overnight cabins. Here and there next to the cabin a quod or how do you write that?
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