Årjep Sávllo

Ok, tough day. First I have to walk half around lake Ikkesjávvre until the cabin and then ford the creek there. I decided to stay left of that little creek that runs down the mountain and that went better than I had thought. I gained altitude quickly and soon this whole adventure felt a lot more doable, despite the heavy backpack. For reasons I got more and more left instead of walking towards the middle of this ditch and so I ended up just below a couple of snow fields. Those seemed to steep to climb without micro-spikes so I decided to zig-zag my way up by walking below them. Looked like rock. Bad idea. Very bad idea. Soon if found myself right in the middle of slushy ground that easily gulped my whole foot within the blink of an eye. I don’t remember how exactly but since I’m writing these lines I must have made it through that mess one way or the other (probably dancing).
Soon I reached the basin from where I could either go over a pass or saddle between the two peaks or try it my way by elegantly walking the side of the smaller peak. I had no idea whether that was feasible. Even less so if that wasn’t just one big piece of ice and snow. The alternative though was indeed just a huge wall of snow. So in a certain way the choice wasn’t that hard to make after all and I kept walking towards one large snow field that seemed to be inhabited by a rogue reindeer (see video). That guy kept following me doing weird dances. Well. When I reached the side of this peak my heart made a jump. Not only was the view on a completely still Ikkesjávrre breathtaking but my chosen path seemed to be easy-peasy, nice waking with no obstacles.
But then the way down. For some odd reason I thought staying left of that other creek running down the other side of this mountain was the thing to do. Since well it would be shorter and I’d be quicker where I needed to go. Unfortunately this side was much steeper and I ended up at scarp after scarp that I either had to find a way around, or, if that wasn’t possible, had to climb down. And of course it was always wet rocks. No fun and not my cup of tea. But yet again, here I am writing those lines. So hours later I reached the bottom of these mountains, pitched my tent tired and exhausted and took a bath in that very same, ice cold creek which wrong side I was following down.Weiterlesen