Autumn in Sarek – a Hiking Journal

Autumn is the season I love the most. Maybe it’s because of the drama when all the colors change at once. Or because the temperature dips toward freezing, the air turns crisp and fresh, and frost sprinkles the mountains like diamonds. The darkness returns, promising rest for both nature and people. But maybe most of all, because this beautiful, crisp time is so very short. Soon it gives way to a dragging late autumn in the wait for snow—a season I don’t care much for.

To head out hiking during this time is one of the very best things I can do! So this year, my cousin Sara and I planned a September trip in Sarek. We’re both self-employed in guiding and outdoor activities, with lots in common and plenty of experience outdoors. Sadly, we live far apart and rarely see each other, so heading out on an adventure with her—the dream companion that she is—was gold. Our goal for the trip was summed up in one word: ENJOY. For us that means bringing good food, visiting beautiful places, taking our time, indulging in coffee breaks, and not forcing long distances just for the sake of it.

The idea had been clear for a long time, but we adjusted the exact route as we began walking. Luckily Sara had been here before—it was my first time.

We started and ended in Saltoluokta, which meant a longer “transport stretch” to get where we really wanted, but it made the logistics easy: park the car in one spot and return to it at the end.

Day 1

We started late in the afternoon, after 5 p.m., with heavy backpacks. (How heavy? Neither of us weighed our packs before or after—something I never bother with.) After just 4 km uphill we were satisfied and set up camp. Reindeer passed by, we ate trail tacos, and had a beer.

Vacation mode: on.

Semester!

Fjälltaco

Hemma på fjället

Day 2

We began with a long, slow morning of coffee, yoga, and peace. Then continued south to Sitojaure: 16 km of easy but monotonous hiking along the Kungsleden trail. I’ve walked this part a few times before and find it hard to appreciate—it just bores me. So we trudged on. Sara’s pack likely weighed more than her backpack was built for, and it rubbed badly. I, as usual, got sore feet from long stretches in boots. But a long lunch break in the sun, with a short nap sheltered from the wind, was the day’s real enjoyment.

Our plan was to get a boat ride with Anna and Lars, who run the Kungsleden boat traffic, across Sitojaure to Rinim on the western side. For various reasons that didn’t work out in the evening, so we set up camp to wait for the boat in the morning. My body was shouting “TIRED” by then, and a sore throat told me it was time to rest.

Lunchpausen

Framme-vinet

Fjällyoga

Day 3

We woke up like new people after at least 10 hours in our sleeping bags. The sore throat was gone, and we started the day with a boat ride. After pleasant conversation and a beautiful trip, we stood in the sun on Rinim’s shore and, naturally, began the day’s hike with a coffee break.

An unmarked trail wound between Nammásj and Dágartjåhkkå, leading us into Basstavágge. A bit wet, but otherwise straightforward. Noodle lunch never tastes better than with a mountain view!

Basstavágge offered a mix: dense willow thickets, scree, stony slopes, and then stretches of open heath. I had good energy and enjoyed the variation; Sara struggled more, and it drained her.

The first river crossing was trickier than expected, with much more water than we had hoped. We scouted, took a fortifying snack, and then crossed at a chosen spot. Boots on, but without socks and insoles. Even with a pole in each hand and small careful steps, adrenaline pumped as the current nearly swept us off. Another smaller crossing followed, and then it was time for camp. About 10 km covered today.

Day 4

The tent flapping in the wind woke us; I went out to tighten the guylines. Today we hiked without any schedule, setting goals on the map and in the terrain, letting weather and energy set the pace.

We passed the highest point in Basstavágge in wind, rain, and low clouds. Wet, slippery scree climbing is nowhere on my list of enjoyable moments. Two more crossings and wet feet added to the struggle. But by the time we were leaving the valley, heathland returned and I felt at home again! Sara had loved the morning while I struggled.

As we neared Sarvatjåhkkå’s snowy peaks, the sun broke through. Out in the valley at Bierikjávvre and Bielajávrátja, the beauty was almost painful. Easy walking led us toward Snávvávagge—but the steep climb up was brutal. With low energy, that narrow trail along the slope felt like a near-death experience. We cursed whoever first thought it was a good idea to go this way.

The relief of reaching the top and camping by the lake was immense. A freezing dip and a cup of tea before dinner did wonders. About 14 km today.

Day 5

A chilly morning with biting wind. Easy but rocky terrain in the high valley, then descending toward Rapadalen. The view demanded a break just to sit and stare.Rain moved in, light at first. We lunched at the valley floor: hot soup from a thermos and sandwiches. Simple and so good! I usually prefer homemade dried meals, but even an instant soup can hit the spot.After lunch came the longest 7 km I’ve ever walked: grey, wet, mud, swamp, and birch forest. Spirits were low, despite our efforts. For no clear reason we didn’t put on rain gear—it seemed too little rain to bother—so by the time we reached camp near Alep Vássjájågåsj we were soaked and exhausted.Dry clothes, hot tea, mushroom risotto, a small bottle of rosé, and reading in the sleeping bag saved the evening. About 12 km.

Day 6

I woke with yesterday’s gloom, but the weather cleared and the wind dried our gear. We chose to climb back onto the high plateau above Rapadalen. Good choice—spirits rose immediately. Sunny, mild, with a breeze, the heathland was easy going despite a faint trail and steady climb.One ford across Lulep Vássjájågåsj, then 5 km of simple walking toward Ridok, where we camped with an amazing view.At 3 a.m., Sara woke me: “Put your lenses in, Amira, and come out!” Northern lights! We lay on mats in warm clothes outside the tent and watched the sky until it got too cold and began to lighten. About 10 km.

Day 7

We slept in and started late. The map showed lots of rock along Gierdogiestjåhkkå, but luckily it was easier than expected. Sara, with recurring pain in her foot, took painkillers to manage. We rested often.

We climbed Skierffe without heavy packs—just jackets, water, first aid, and of course a camera. The view was unforgettable: the cliff plunging into Rapadalen and the winding waters below. Alone on the summit, we had it all to ourselves.

Then came planning the final stretch. The boat across Sitojaure leaves at 8:15 a.m. and 5:15 p.m., so we could either hike to Svinje for the morning boat or go via Aktse and catch the evening one. Sara’s foot pain decided for us: we stopped early by some lakes. Later, with updated boat info and a forecast of rain and snow, we chose the morning boat. About 12 km.

Day 8

Alarms at 4:20. By 5:15 we were walking. Frost sparkled everywhere, the sun not yet risen. I was so glad we forced ourselves up—it was magical. We passed a large group of resting reindeer just as the sun crested the ridge.

8 km to Svinje, then coffee, porridge, and even a dip in the lake. I’ve rarely felt so clean!

Boat across the lake, more coffee, a visit to Sitojaure hut, and a chance meeting with a Finnish woman who later became Sara’s ride south toward Finland.

Then came the last 20 km along the dreaded straight stretch of Kungsleden back to Saltoluokta. We hadn’t decided to walk the whole way, but when sauna and a bed called, we couldn’t resist. 28 km later, we stumbled into the station, greeted a happy dog, enjoyed a beer, and devoured a fantastic dinner.