Expedition L Day 52: 15.9.18.
Like a real life Bob Ross painting, this was the scene that greeted me at my chosen campsite after one of the least enjoyable days walking so far. .
I woke to pouring rain. My right lace snapping on my boots that were wet through within an hour of packing up a wet tarp. Boggy tundra smothered in cloud. I couldn’t see anything, and my clothes completely saturated. I’d given up trying to be waterproof. 20 monotonous kilometres and my squelching legs were waning. Finally I started to descend, through the dwarf birches dripping more than I was, three Male capercaillies, huge bold clumsy birds, plodded after a female. I passed a hut, popped my head in to see if they might have some sweet supplies to hand and ended up being given a snickers bar by a lady named Anna. I ate it on the wooden steps of the hut, still dripping and feeling chilly. “There are some nice campsites by the lake, about 6km from here”
Things were looking up, capercaillie, snickers and a good campsite. The rain stopped as I arrived by the lake, some of the cloud lifted revealing this incredibly serene landscape, mixed forest cutting the reflection of the fresh snow capped mountain in half. Pure magic. I set up the hammock looking over the lake. For a moment, joy. Then the water started lapping against the shore. The laps later became crashing waves and huge gusts of wind roared across the lake and pulled my tarp out of the ground at 11pm. I’m squabbling in the freezing dark, reconfiguring the setup to better handle this sudden wind storm. Finally back in bed, I pray for sleep and for the night to be over. After all that, I probably have my favourite photo I’ve taken on the trip so far.
The landscape is undeniably beautiful.
The weather raw and unpredictable.
No storm lasts forever.
#walkingwild #expeditionlapland #reallifebobross