Hey all,
First of all, thank you for all those who sent supportive replies to my posting from Jokkmokk. I left the internet cafe shortly after the posting so I didn't get the replies until the last day or two, but I appreciate them!
My last week on the trail: it was pretty amazing. Two days that involved boats for part of the distance. Both of those days it was over 80F - hot considering the clothing I had with me. Skimming over the water was lovely...saw a group? family? pod? (not a herd!) of otters playing not far from shore. Water was like glass. One day it was across the length of the lake and up a river. The next day it was to the far end of the lake to an archipelago with something like 7 bridges. I just know it was fun and beautiful and helped me make great time.
If I'd known the difference in trail and terrain from the first three legs to the last, well, who knows!? It was still a lot of ascending and descending, but they were more like massive hills rather than mtns. The trail itself was substantially better footing. I was totally in the "zone" and seemed to make twice the distance/hour compared to the first two weeks.
And I was alone. I love going early in the morning, when everyone else is asleep. Most days I saw no one until I arrived at the hut. Sometimes I opted for my tent in the middle of the wilds rather than the huts. It was just fun and I seemed to smile a lot. Once I topped a hill I seemed to climb for a long time and there was the trail, a thin ribbon appearing and disappearing as it went up and down over the hills for several miles ahead of me. I laughed gently and realized the joy of the moment at seeing it extend out before me.
The third day the weather turned and I walked in a storm unlike any other I've ever walked in. The wind about blew me over a couple of times, the rain soaked through my boots within ten minutes. I scrambled into my rain gear. After a couple of hours I was getting somewhat chilled, the wind just bit through my clothes. There was an emergency hut - pretty much a wooden box with a door and steps up to the door. The box was prob. 4x8 ft. I scrambled inside and peeled off the rain gear just to breathe for a bit. Realizing how cold I actually was, I debated with myself about changing clothes altogether. In the end I switched from soggy pants (they'd gotten wet when I was getting into the rain clothes when the storm first hit) and ended up in two complete bottom layers and two complete top layers under the rain gear. Then I had water and forced myself to eat something with the rationale, "You need energy to stay warm."
I knew I was about half way, maybe a little more to the next main hut. It was with great relief that topping yet another hill I spotted the roof. I put my arms straight up over my head, trekking pole in one hand, as though I'd just crossed the finish line. Again I laughed...I seemed to do a lot of laughing for the joy of the whole experience...and started singing/humming the theme song from Bonanza as I covered that last 1/4 mile or so. Naturally, I was euphoric and a mis-step on a slick rock had me crashing to the ground. No more singing, slow and careful walking, and I got there eventually.
The last day was cloudy and a bit cold, but no rain. I made great time and arrived on the mtn. just above Hemavan to find the ski lift operating earlier than I'd been told. There was a big sign that no one was allowed on the lift without assistance, so I busied myself pulling on fleece (now that my work was done for the day) and tying my trekking pole to the pack. At just the right moment an athletic looking guy jumped off the lift and announced he was there to help me. Perfect timing! He was very amused when I told him that the lift was the scariest thing I'd faced so far - I'm not fond of hanging in lawn chairs from little poles attached to a single wire while descending a rather steep mtn. Then he asked where I'd started my hike and I won much approval when I told him the ground I'd covered.
The rest of the day was simply a stop at the local youth hostel where I was graciously allowed use of the fax and internet to book a ticket to Stockholm. The host gave me a ride to the airport and my journey home had begun. It was all kind of surreal - such an abrupt entry back into civilization.
Once at the Stockholm airport I got my ticket to the STates changed for Sat., booked myself into the airport hotel, soaked for a long time in the tub, got dressed in the cleanest thing in my pack, went downstairs and bought some truly clean clothes, and had dinner. Then I slept.
The next day there were flight issues and in Amsterdam there was a mad scramble to get me on alternative carriers. The first two airline employees said, "There's no way to get you to Albuquerque today." Hmmm...what would those perky folks on the Amazing Race do? I offered up alternative airports - El PAso or if nec. Tucson. Ah ha...I ran for the gate, arrived in Montreal, Canada, was personally escorted through several locked doors so I could get to US Customs which I needed to clear before getting on a flight to Dallas Ft. Worth. Amazing what is possible! I literally ran through DFW and arrived at my next gate just in time to board with everyone else.
So, I was in El Paso approx. 18 hrs. after leaving Stockholm. Then it was simply a matter of reporting one missing backpack and the 2.5 hr. drive home. I think I finally went to bed at 2 a.m. Sunday.
I need to write one last report for the local newspaper. I'm not sure exactly what to say yet. The last week was more calm, more gentle, full of joy. You all will understand what I mean when I say, "I felt strong. I felt fit. It all felt good."
So there it is, I've done it. I learned loads about the trail. So, if any of you ever want to head out that way, let me know and I'll be happy to share. Same with the actual reports that have been published...if you want the full versions...let me know and I'll send them your way in the next few days.
Cheers! susan
