a hikers guide to the galaxy: part 1 - an introduction

Here we are then. Every step we take the next five-six days is going to bring us further away from civilisation and further in to the wilderness. Every step is unknown and we feel wide awake, as the helicopter picks up it's tail like a huge insect and then takes off in over the valley. The noise from the machine fades, and silence grows on us.

It feels a bit unreal.

We are in Sarek, the most untouched wilderness area in Sweden. There is no mobile connection here. No internet connection. No cabins. No roads. And very few human beings. There is on the other hand huge flocks of reindeer. We might spot moose and just maybe, but less likely, although we know they are here: bear and wolverine. Lemmings are all over the place and are known to be a bit bad-tempered, but since they are small and cute, I look forward to seeing them again, when we in a couple of days make our way down into the valley.

We pick up our backpacks and I keep having this eerie feeling that something is missing. It's this feeling that I want to reach out to people and tell them about this. I can feel the pull of the social media still working on me... Cold turkey :-) No texts, no Facebook, no e-mails. The only connection is the very real connection with here and it feels a bit unreal.

We want to make our way to the Skierfe Rock that has a soft slope up on the one side that is easily hiked and on the other side there's a vertical drop 700 meters down into Rapa Valley, the valley we're going to follow for the next few days. We hike up on the sloping back of  Skierfe, not used to the load of our backpacks, that seemed to get heavier as we started climbing to the top of the rock. I am annoyed at the heat and my shoulders hurt. I can't seem to get the pack arranged and part of me is secretly debating whether this was really such a good idea, to hike all the way up with all our gear and sleep up there. But when we reach the top and let the packs slide off our sore shoulders and drop them and like children run to the edge and look down, the courage and enthusiasm returns. We lie on our bellies and look down.

From here we can see almost the full length of the valley with the riverdelta. The water comes in all nuances from milkywhite to emeraldgreen fed by glacial rivers and mountainlakes and with the grassy plots of land that weave their way between the threads of river it creates an intricate pattern of colours, like the colours on a painters palet. We spend a long time just looking.
We exchange enthusiastic comments and praise our luck, that it's so clear. Not a cloud to be seen.

But part of me is restless and I don't feel quite here and I feel almost guilty that I can't really seem to penetrate this wooly feeling. After all we have spent months planning this, and we have travelled 30 hours to get here, and here I am - not able to BE here.

But I recognize this feeling from other times and I trust that it will change.

After all it takes time to land.

As night time falls the mosquitoes and the midges move in by the millions and we seek shelter in our tent. Mosquitoes were not part of the plan, they have normally died by now, but then this, like the weather is out of our control.
We fall asleep to the sound of the mosquitoes on the hunt for blood.