Planning for this route wasn't easy. There's little information, either on the net or in print, and only little bits can be found in english. In the following pages, I'll try to fill that gap from the (necessaryly limited) perspective of a one time hiker. Don't expect a deep knowledge from the area.

Background

Thru-hiking Nordkalottleden is not that difficult. Certainly not as difficult as one would imagine given the latitude

The physical environment

Terrain

Tundra

The northernmost tip of the route goes through the arctic tundra. Actually, I think it is not yet technically tundra as the terrain Nordkalottleden goes through is still forested and as far as I know the tundra is tree-less by definition but on this rolling hill landscape trees are small and the route often takes the high areas on the hills where trees are absent.

This region is a plateau around 400 to 500 m. high. It's still amazing to me how this high latitude land is still covered in forest. The landscape is an endless cover or dark green dotted with blue lakes of considerable size. Birch trees are the only ones able to make a living here and they're already quite small in size (but not in number!). The hills rise as high as 600 m., just barely beyond the tree line.

Marshy areas are common. Wherever there's a depression, there'll be a lake or a marsh, usually both. Marshes are also commonly found besides rivers in flat areas.

The views are expansive but flat and featureless. The tundra is beautiful and daunting but not particularly spectacular.

Mountains

Most of the route goes through mountain terrain over the northern tip of the spine of the Scandinavian peninsula. The mountains here are modest in size and the relief is usually smooth. The terrain is still showing clear evidence of recent glacial activity: the valleys are wide and long and the hills are usually rounded. There are lakes virtually everywhere. Millions of lakes of all shapes and sizes. Wherever the glaciers dug slightly deeper or left a morraine wall, there's a lake. Flowing water has not yet had time to carve more abrupt landscapes (it's trying though).

The route here usually keeps between 500 and 1000 m. high, linking valleys through long passes or high plateaus.

The mountains were the nicest place to be. Views are open, landscapes are beautiful and the whole place feels isolated and pristine. When the sun was shining, it was all so colourful, a brilliant display of green and blue.

Deep valleys

only a few times along the route does Nordkalottleden dip low enough to change the climatic zone it traverses. I came to call these the Deep Valleys. Birch trees would show up again first and if low enough, pine trees too. The trees would be of a good size and the vegetation in general is thicker.

The deep valleys were usually a warmish, damp place. No more easy hiking, the terreain is usually rocky and irregular, the vegetation is thick and the whole feel of the place is somewhat oppresive. Still ok if dry but in rainy weather the vegetation would get loaded with water getting the hiker as soaked as a hiker can get.

Hiking

Hiking in Lapland can be a wonderful and miserable experience. All in the same day. I appreciated the isolation, the expansive panoramas, the arctic light and how pristine the place was. I felt as free to roam as one can feel. It was hiking freedom paradise.

On the other hand, it was a tough experience of constant bad weather in a daunting environment. Physically and psychologically tough.

There are some aspects to hiking in Lapland that stand out and are worth noting:

Water is everywhere and it's universally drinkable. You can drink straight from streams, rivers, lakes, ponds or puddles. I felt like I could even drink from marshes. Nobody treats the water for drinking in Lapland. What's more, there's so much water than you don't even need to carry any. Thirsty? just walk a few meters...

I actually would carry some water sometimes (if I was in some kind of hurry) so I could drink without stopping but I'm serious: you could avoid carrying any. At all.

xxx

As commented above, there were three basic kinds of terrain along Nordkalottleden. Hiking was different for each:

The northern tundra

The tundra was technically easy hiking but I found it quite demanding psychologically. The mostly featureless landscape and the oppresive character of the place made it so. The terrain is often marshy and in mid-august there were still plenty of bugs. The trail is faint or non-existant most of the way but the signalling is so good it's almost excesive. Following the way was never a problem, even in the fog. When the route takes the hill crests, it's much better as the terrain there is drier and the breeze usually takes the bugs away.

A typical 4 km/h pace should be easy to average.

The mountains

Above the tree line, it's basically just grass. The terrain is open and universally crossable. The relief is smooth and the height gain or loss is usually not more than 500 m. at a time. The valley bottoms are wide and open and there are some flat-like areas. The typical section goes from a valley to the next across a high pass or a highland plateau. The climb up or down may be somewhat steep but it usually won't. The route avoids the crests even though many of them would be just as easy to travel but probably too exposed in bad weather.

The route is usually easy to follow. Trail tread is good in some parts but it may be faint in others and it's often inexistent in the highest areas but the signalling is there to fill the voids. Some parts may be tricky to travel in low visibility though.

The tread may be anything from very good, smooth grass to a rocky nightmare It's usually something in between. Above 900 m., it's mostly rock and little or no vegetation. This is usually easy to travel though it may get tricky if the rocks are wet.

Again, the usual 4 km/h average is reasonable.

The deep valleys

Nordkalottleden is a real trail throughout the stretches in the deep valleys but that doesn't mean it's an easy stroll. The tread is rocky and irregular and the going is tough with frequent, short ups and downs. The vegetation is thick and it'd actually be tricky to make progress with no trail. If it rains, the hiker gets soaked to the bone due to the damp brush. Route finding is straightforward. Bugs were still an issue in mid august in these areas.

Hiking in the deep valleys was welcome for a change but it wasn't the most pleasant of experiences. 3 km/h was a reasonable average.

Trails

Nordkalottleden is basically a route devised over existing trails or... non-existing trails. The route has been carefully and thoroughly way-marked though so route finding is usually not difficult.

Trails vary in quality. There's usually one in the lower areas or where the route is close to a trailhead. There's always a trail in the areas with thick vegetation where its absence would be a real problem. In the northern tundra section, the route goes sometimes over dirt tracks but doesn't necessarily follow them. In the mountain areas, the presence of an actual trail is quite random. It usually disappears in the higher ground but it may be faint or absent also in the valley sections.

The best trails are found where Nordkalottleden shares tread with one of the other long, more popular trails in the area, either Kungsleden or Padjelantaleden: these two are far more travelled and developed and the trail here is always good and clear.

Signalling

As with the trails, signalling varies greatly. It's also a factor of which country each particular section belongs to because the signalling systems are different. In general, the signalling is good and easy to follow, even in low visibility conditions but there are a few sections where it's not as good or even some void stretches. A map is always a must, in my opinion and I wouldn't set out without a compass even though I rarely used mine.

Norway

Signs are usually cairns with a red paint mark. In forested areas, the same red paint is usually found on tree trunks. The paint mark is either a thick dot or a T (which is the initial for Turistforening, the organization that cares for the trails in Norway, among other things). Cairn configuration depends on the local available rocks: either the typical rock pile or a big, thin, flat sided boulder standing.

Norwegian signs never let me down but some sections had greatly spaced cairns that sometimes took a while to find. Not to worry in good weather but a potential problem in low visibility conditions.

Finland

Signs are consistent through the short finnish section: wood sticks, 30-40 cm. high with orange painted tops. There's also sometimes a plaque on one side with the Nordkalottleden logo. These signs are regularly spaced so they're easy to follow, helped by the fact that trail tread is also obvious. The finnish care for the trails in their only mountain region.

Sweden

Sweden is the most varied. There are cairns like in Norway but the paint is orange and it's always in the shape of a thick dot. There are also wooden sticks like in Finland, also topped in orange with the occasional plaque with the logo. There are also a few stretches with orange paint on tree trunks.

The signalling becomes spotty sometimes. Only in sweden I lost the marks completely for a good while. I don't know if they were absent or just barely visible. For a longer, adjacent section, the paint marks were almost gone and some cairns were not standing so it was necessary to look carefully. It was tricky in bad weather.

Infrastructures

Apart from the trails themselves and their signs, already commented, there are a few other structures to help hikers progress, basically over water of some sort:

Bridges

Most rivers can be forded and quite a few of them have to be. On many others there is a bridge. All the river crossings on the Kungsleden or Padjelantaleden sections have bridges and where Nordkalottleden is on its own it all depends on the popularity of the trail stretch where the river is.

Bridges are built to stand the spring flows so they're hanging from off-shore supports. They look flimsy and some move a lot when crossing but I didn't see a destroyed one; either they're solid enough or rebuilt regularly.

There are a few really big rivers with bridges that span several dozen meters. I don't think fording would be an option in these.

Wooden boards

These are commonly found over the marshy areas. They consist of two parallel, flat boards that allow the hiker to walk over the marsh without sinking or getting wet. These are found only in the most popular areas (all along the Kungsleden and Padjelantaleden) and their quality varies: where there are also transversal pieces that prevent the main boards sinking, they're a real luxury to walk on. When there aren't, the tread boards usually sink in the marsh so they provide a marginal improvement with the additional risk of slipping over the wet, flat surface.

Huts

Huts are located at regular intervals along Nordkalottleden. There's only one stretch in between huts (xxx kms.) too long to cover in one day. The hut system is slightly different depending on the country. I'll go into more detail in the logistics section.

Huts are charming and a good safety option in an isolated and often unwelcoming environment. Camping out was still my first and best option in every man's righ land but I also enjoyed being inside sometimes.

Weather

Summer is usually very nice for hiking along Nordkalottleden. Temperatures are mild, hardly ever too cold or too warm. Not the ideal for laying on the beach but nice for hiking. Warm clothes are needed though as it's often breezy and the terrain is quite exposed. Usual temps can be expected between 5 and 15ºC. During the summer months, the weather is usually stable but rain is always a possibility.

So far the average news. My news are somewhat worse: I experienced unstable, bad weather throughout the whole trip. Three and a half weeks of bad weather in a row. Everybody I talked to (many locals among them) were telling me it wasn't usual but... it may happen.

The appropriate word here is "unstable". The weather wasn't always that bad but it was pretty much always intimidating, always stormy. I only had mild temps during the very first days of the trip in the tundra section and one of the deep valleys. Once up on the mountains, it hardly ever got above 10ºC. On a bad weather day, temps would be between 0 and 5ºC.

It rained a lot on me but the rain was often sketchy and thin. It wouldn't rain for many hours in a row but it would rain almost everyday. The rain was usually thin, sometimes it was more like a wind driven mist.

As far as the theory goes, summer is almost ideal hiking weather (for those who like cool weather, at least) in Lapland but the potential for bad weather is there and the place is exposed enough to make it worse.

Obstacles

Weather

The weather systems usually come from the west, maybe with a northern or southern component too. The eastern flanks of the mountains are supposed to follow more settled patterns.

The bad thing about bad weather in Lapland is it may get quite serious. Unlike most hiking routes in less severe environments, where you go up in the mountains and there's a valley to go back down to if things get ugly, in Lapland there's no valley to go back down to. Sure, you can leave the highlands but it wouldn't help much: the lowlands aren't that much lower.

During my Nordkalottleden experience, the weather was a major obstacle. I must admit it was as much a psychological issue as it was physical and I must add the weather I found was considerably worse than average.

Instability: The one thing that was bothering me the most was the constant instability. I coudn't relax. I coudln't take settled weather for granted, not even for one day. Even the most sunny, calm, perfect day would turn into wind, cloud, rain or any combination of those. I guess it's something you learn to live with but by the time I was starting to get used to live with it the weather turned even worse with colder temps and permanent cloud cover. Rain turned to snow. It felt like winter to me.

Rain: Out of 24 days, I had rain in around 20. It rained on me even in Abisko which, according to statistics, is a very dry place... not the day I was there, indeed.

Lapland rain was hardly ever strong or long lasting. The permanent instability conditions commented above would apply to the rainy weather too: clouds would come and go and the long lasting cloud cover, whenever happened, would bring spotty rain showers. Many times the rainfall was rather misty, so thin you would hardly feel it. It happened to me several times that I realised it was raining when I noticed drops breaking on a pond surface. Or I could hear the drops on my tent wall but wouldn't actually see or feel the rain if I went outside.

Wind: It was often breezy in Lapland while I was there. The whole place feels exposed and barren and I guess the breeze is part of that feeling. Only a few times I had to face strong winds but then I felt how exposed the place is. The relief is so smooth you don't easily find a place to hide. Hiding for a short brake would still be easy but finding a sheltered spot for the night wasn't.

Snow: I saw virtually no snow from the previous season, everything had melted away by the time I was there. I saw fresh snow during the last 10 days of my trip and I had to cover significant distances on snow during the last week. It started snowing regularly at night by the end of august and the snow line would be lower every night: from around 1300 m. down 900 m. in a few days, as the temps were getting colder and colder. From then on, the hiker would find fresh snow in the high areas. It started snowing also during the daytime.

Route finding was never compromised by walking on snow because I was lucky to be following well marked sections by that time. It would have been a problem to follow cairns in other areas. The worst part about walking on fresh snow were the boulder fields where the snow would hide the rocks and gaps but wouldn't support your weight so you had to be extremely careful to avoid injury. This made progress tedious.

Rivers

Lapland is water-land. Water is everywhere, so many times in the form of streams and rivers. On Nordkalottleden, the hiker has to cross water flows regularly. Many you can just jump over; others are wide but so shallow you can hop over rocks (even if it takes two minutes of rock hopping to get across). Quite a few of the big streams and rivers have bridges which are found on the most popular sections of the route such as near trailheads. All the sections where Nordkalottleden shares tread with either Kungsleden or Padjelantaleden have bridges over every river or stream. No real obstacles to speak of yet.

Then, there are still quite a lot of sizeable streams and rivers with no bridge that have to be forded. I didn't perceive any of them as difficult or dangerous but I had to pay attention and be careful in several of them, if only for those few steps where it got a bit deeper. Hiking poles where a huge help, as usual, with the plus that it'd be difficult to find a substitute on the spot; usually, it'd be impossible.

Lapland rivers are usually wide, relatively shallow and slow flowing. It's usually no problem to find a flat area where the river expands and it's shallow and slow enough to cross safely. Sometimes, it may take several minutes to complete the widest crossings and it's even possible to find paint marks on rocks in the middle of the ford! So don't be scared by those apparently huge rivers that you can see on the maps: they're wide but so much spread out that it's usually no problem. Water will hardly go beyond your knee. Actually, some of the trickiest fords didn't appear so wide in the maps.

I checked all the bridged rivers. I'd say most of them were fordable but obviously I didn't try. Some might have been difficult. There were at least a couple of really big rivers (or were they three?) in a row in the Padjelanta that I bet were impassable. They span the longest bridges in the whole route. These were wide, big rivers with a strong flow and they looked deep. They'd probably be fordable way upstream (several kms.).

Bear in mind all this info belongs to mid-august to early september. I went late in the season partly to ease the river fords. I know it's probably the number one danger in the backcountry. I bet many of the fords that were doable or even easy for me would be very difficult, dangerous or even impossible in june/july.

Marshes

Lapland is water-land. Water is everywhere, so many times in the form of the dreaded marsh. The land is still showing glacial erosion evidence in all those small depressions now filled with water. Where the depression is too shallow to hold a lake, it holds a marsh. Snow covers these poorly drained basins for most of the year so they don't have a chance to dry.

Marshes are found everywhere water cannot drain. Lakeshores are a good place. Sometimes, river banks are a huge marsh too if the land is flat enough. The tundra section (northernmost Nordkalottleden) is probably the wettest of the whole route due to the marshy areas but they can be found anywhere. The mountains are drier though. The higher, the drier.

Hiking on marshy terrain is a pain. Your feet get wet and dirty and it's slow and tough going. You walk over some kind of soup where your shoes sink somewhere between ankle and knee. Actually, if you dip that far you'd better go find a shallower spot. Mid calf is usual and still kind of acceptable.

You learn to identify marshes from the distance fast: see that flatland with long, light green grass and you know the ground is not gonna be real ground. In my experience and opinion, the route does a reasonable job at trying to avoid the marshes, only crosses them when needed and on the narrower strips but sometimes it may be worth trying to go around if you value your dry feet. Trail route choice may not be so careful where there are wooden platforms over the marsh but who cares then.

The marshes are probably one of the reasons for hikers to use high cut, thick leather, waterproof boots but they may also be the reason to avoid them (I mean, the boots): I used running shoes throughout my Nordkalottleden trip and I knew I faced wet shoes and feet pretty much every single day but at least I knew my shoes would have a chance to dry some. Wet heavy boots are not very foot friendly.

Bugs

I travelled late in the season trying to avoid the worse of the bug season or, hopefully, the whole of it. And I almost did.

Arctic regions are well known for their bugs and Lapland is no different. The most memorable hiking setting can be ruined by a bug hell that can drive you literally nuts. I've experienced this in mountain regions which are a kind of "little arctic in the highlands" but never in the real arctic.

There's really nothing I found in the Lapland bugs that I had not already seen before. If anything, I'm sure there were more biting bugs than the typical mosquitos but I'm not certain which ones of all those different flies were the biting ones. Maybe all of them.

Mosquitos are quite like any other mosquito I've tried before. The flies (if that is a correct name at all) were small but not as tiny as the sandflies, midgets, no-see-ums or whatever they call them in different places. There were different kinds and at least one of those would bite, sting or whatever they do but the itch would last longer than that of the mosquito stings. On the other hand, flies were slow moving and it was easy to kill several on one single, casual slap.

I used a combination of clothing and repellent against the bugs. I carried no headnet and missed it during the buggy days but was happy with the choice after seeing the bugs dissapear on day 4. I tried to use as little repellent as possible: my pants were mosquito and fly proof but my top base layer wasn't (mosquitos could definitely go through it) so I had to wear the windproof shirt. This was about to be standard wear for the rest of the trip but not on the tundra where it turned into a sweaty experience. It wasn't that warm but it was damp. I used repellent on my neck, ears back, throat and part of my face, always far from mouth, nose or eyes. I used controlled-release DEET in cream fashion and it worked well. It made a difference. I didn't have to fight the suckers on those spots which basically eliminated all the waving and lots of stress.

I found plenty of bugs in the northermost tundra section, particularly in the low, wet areas. Marshes were a double nighmare of bugs and missing ground. It used to be buggy on the forest too. On the hill crests, it was drier and breezier and hence much less buggy. Bugs could even dissapear completely. I found plenty of bugs too on Reisadalen, the first of the deep valleys, where Nordkalottleden makes a long traverse. Once I climbed up the mountains out from Reisadalen, the bugs dissapeared to never come back. There were more wet and/or low lying sections but I guess it was already too late in the season.

Season

Nordkalottleden is a summer only trail. The region is commonly traversed in spring too but on skis. Winter is very cold and there's no daylight for a couple of months.

The hiking season goes roughly from july to september. Here I'm not speaking from direct experience but that's what they say. In late june through july, there's no dark and the weather is warmest but rivers may still be difficult to ford and bugs are a huge problem. August is considered the best time to be up there with early september a close second. Days are still long. Temps get colder but the weather should still be stable. Fords are at their easiest and there are little or no bugs. Mid september is usually the end of the season. Many of the services (huts, transport) close after the second week of september. Winter usually sets in shortly after.

Trip phylosophy: UL in the arctic?

One of the issues with ultralight or lightweight hiking is ovecoming the fear of being unprepared for the conditions. It's something you learn with practise but that fear comes back when you face a new set of conditions. This is particularly true when you're about to travel to an isolated place with potentially severe weather.

You can check the expected conditions: weather patterns, terrain, exposure, etc. and you'll probably see that in theory UL as you know it should work well but then nobody seems to be doing it up there. Reason being...?

When you don't know something, you can ask the ones who do know but... what if there's no one? That seems to be the case with lightweight hiking in Lapland. Pioneering wasn't really my thing but somehow and as far as I'm concerned, I had to.

Well, not really. I don't think somebody like me can find something to do that's not been done before. Even lightweight hiking in the arctic. I recalled the Dial, Geck & Jordan expedition in Alaska and avidly re-read all about their journey. If they could go UL, then it's doable. If it was doable, maybe I could do it too. My tiny little trip was nothing compared to what they did and Lapland is nothing like the Alaska wilderness but hey they're the masters. I'm still starting to learn. It's so great having experiences like this to get info from. On the other hand, they didn't have to give any explanations... at least, during the trip...

Ultralight in the land of the Ultraheavy

Scandinavian backpackers are world famous for their huge packs. They say they have to face tough conditions and that's what it takes to be prepared. They're probably right about the tough conditions part but that's probably what prevented them from trying something different in the first place. Habits die hard and I understand the fear of being out there unprepared may be a powerful one, particularly with all those trolls, gnomes and whatnot.

note: all these myths are usually nothing but the projection of our fears as much as ways to explain what whe cannot explain. And a nice albeit not too accurate way to understand the world.

I had the pleasure to talk to some northeners during my planning (internet is still such a great tool sometimes) from whom I gathered useful info but I didn't even dare to ask about UL backpacking. I could imagine the answers. Tarps, running shoes or frameless packs were out of the question. So I had to dig in the facts, say again my prayers in the UL faith and convince myself it would work. It should work.

Actually what's in question here is not the UL phylosophy itself but the actual 3 season gear I've been using in my long (and not so long) trips for the last few years. The phylosophy stays the same no matter season or locale but the gear may change. One has to adapt to the conditions and based on this I decided to make some concessions: I'd bring a real tent and a bit more clothing. The frameless pack would stay and the running shoes would stay. The feather weight sleeping bag too. I mean, stay in the list, not at home.

As evidenced by my writing this, I survived. And I learned a few things on the way, which is the really interesting part about trying things. But UL is not only about surviving; for me, it's important to be in comfort. One or two uncomfortable days or nights here and there are acceptable but long distance hiking cannot be a survival experience. For me, at least. It's not like a quick summit attempt where you go to your limit and beyond and then send yourself to rest and recover, job well done. Long distance hiking requires you to do it all over again. And again. You need to be within your limits and you need to let your body recover on the go. Ultralight should not turn into ultra-precarious.

It was nice to see how just a few adjustments to my regular, 3-season, temperate climatic zone kit were enough to extend my comfort level beyond the arctic circle. And it's interesting to see how my comfort level was similar or sometimes even higher than that of the ultraheavy packers I met on the way. UL works. Sometimes it's hard to convince oneself but it damn works.

At this point, I must say my Nordkalottleden kit was actually far from the UL (ultralight) standard. I was more at the (just) lightweight level; but I like the UL acronym.

It was so funny to show up in Lapland with a lightweight load. It was interesting to challenge the ultraheavy paradigm by just being there. No proselytism, people would just ask if those were my only shoes or how come my pack looked so small.

- "because it IS small" :)

The running shoes were probably the number one attraction. Most people were wearing huge boots and it was like heavy boots were like religion... and running shoes felt like sacrilege.

Gear performance annalysis

Shelter

Stephensons Warmlite 2C. It was hard to justify the expense of bying yet another tent (and this one is an expensive one) and it was hard to part with the tarp/tarptent idea for the summer season but this one was one of the concessions I made for my safety and peace of mind. I guess it was mainly for the peace of mind.

The premises went like this:

• The potential for bugs was still there so I wanted a bug-proof shelter: a bivy under a tarp is technically bug-proof but not too comfortable.
• The terrain is very exposed along Nordkalottleden and wind seemed common so I wanted a very wind worthy shelter.
• Camping out was an important part of the experience and something to explore in one of the few places in Europe where you can do it freely. I didn't want my shelter to be the weak link that would send me to the huts too often.

I still tried to go the tarptent way but tests failed in the wind-worthiness side: not enough. So I recalled the outstanding figures for those misterious tents in the most unusual gear webshop and decided I had reason enough to get one. Furthermore, the Stephenson family had just added a new, shortened model to their line up that made particularly true their claim: "the lightest real tent you can find". It was difficult to resist getting one for years. Not anymore.

The 2C would take part of the fun out of camping: no more creative tarp setups, bivy nights under the stars or the wonderful modularity of a multi-piece shelter system. It'd leave just one choice: tent or tent. For the same reason, it'd take some uncertainty out of the journey, which was a welcome relief in a trip too full of too many uncertainties.

The Lapland arctic feels intimidating. Maybe not when the sun is shining and there's no wind but during my 3.5 week trip the sun was hardly ever shining and it was often windy, unstable, dark, damp and cold. I guess I could have done it with a tarptent or even a tarp but I was so happy to have a real tent with a real frame. Not only that, the Warmlite 2C was a extremely solid tent that I felt I could trust in the worst conditions reasonably expected and that made me feel confident in a situation where I needed it.

The 2C is incredibly light and at the same time it feels bombproof. I have yet to put it through the hurricane force winds it's supposed to be able to stand but other than that it's lived up to most manufacturer claims: it's very easy and quick to set up and down, even in bad conditions. It's very strong in the wind. Despite the shortened version, it's still big for one plus gear (though it may be a bit tight lenghwise for tall people). Properly sealed, it was waterproof.

The Stephenson tents are a weird design: the 2C is a pretty common, asymmetrical tunnel with two frame loops: a big one at the front and a smaller one at the rear, but stands out for a few, important details: it's a kind of hybrid between single and double wall. I could describe it as a single wall tent with a hanging interior second wall. This inner wall is found only in the body section in between the two frame loops and it's absent in the sloping ends. The inner wall is sewn to the roof center seam and hangs from there. The floor is sewn to the inner wall in the area where there is one, to the outer wall where that is the only one. Both inner and outer wall are waterproof and non-breathable (outer and floor are 1.3 silnylon; inner is something similar if not the same thing) and the inner wall is there to provide aditional insulation. The air gap in between the two walls is supposed to act as an insulator.

The ventilation system has three ports: lower rear, front rear and upper rear, all use netting. The first two have a beak that completely covers them even though the rear one can still be closed (from inside; but one should go outside to open it again). I see very unlikely the need to close it anyway. The upper front port is more unusual: the beak is inside the tent and below the gap, not outside and above. It's possible to close and open it from inside. The rain will hit and go through the netting but it'll be stopped by the beak wall. It'll then run down and through the seam joining beak and wall: it's key that this seam is sealed on the inside. A bit weird but it works well.

This tent is extremely spartan which is good for the weight but sometimes I missed somewhere to hung something from (on the outside; like to hung something to dry or leave the socks overnight. Well, it was raining most nights anyway...).

The Stephenson tents have no vestibule. This is no omission: I guess they've been asked a million times to provide one but apparently the lack of a vestibule is key to the design. I definitely missed it but could live without it.

The only major drawback I saw to this tent was something commonly reported by other users that I'll still say in a low voice: it's got a condensation problem.

The Stephensons are very fond of their claim about the function of their ventilation system. They believe in it so much they also claim that condensation must be due to user error. They also go in length on how to avoid it. I've read it all several times, as well as other long discussions on the subject. I must say I'm not doing everything the manufacturer recommends to avoid condensation (basically, I'm not using a vapor barrier) so I won't say they're not right. Yet, my opinion is the ventilation system is not enough. Yes, I can trap the moisture from my perspiration but I still have to breathe... and I don't think the ventilation system could cope with even that. I say this based on the amount of condensation I've experienced in the given conditions. Of course, I may be wrong.

Condensation was annoying but never a serious problem. I'd wipe it off with a towel (that I carry anyway) and it'd never drip on me. It's interesting to observe it happened mainly in the strictly single wall sections of the tent and in the inner face of the outer wall in the double wall section. That means the inner wall does work as extra insulation as there was hardly ever any condensation inside it.

I went through heavy winds once. The wind was gusty and occasionally very strong. The tent suffered, moved and felt like it'd be destroyed anytime but.. it didn't. It stood beautifully. It wasn't even properly oriented as there was no wind when I set up camp and my best guess worked only partially: the wind gusts were coming from the rear/side. The location was very exposed. The rear pole would flex and come partially flat against me from the side the wind was pushing but it'd come back to shape when the gust eased. It felt really scary but I relaxed a bit when I saw the tent was not gonna be pushed down.

The 2C should come with what the manufacturer calls the "wind stabilizers", a way of joining the poles inside the tent that's supposed to make them much stronger in the wind. Unfortunately, my tent came without them so I cannot report on their performance (I've already talked to the manufacturer about adding them).

I was very happy with the 2C. I think it's a great tent. It made me feel safe in the inhospitable conditions I had to go through and kept me safe and comfortable. I'd take it again and I doubt I could find a better tent.

Pack

Granite Gear Virga. My GG Virga was growing old. I got a new pack, a Gossamer Gear Mariposa Plus, already a classic in the lightweight league with a new, more durable fabric. I tested this one and overall liked it but in the end I decided to take the Virga with me again. I sewed permanent patches in those long rips and the pack looked like new again. I also sewed a velcro patch so the hip belt I added the previous year would stay in place better.

I love this pack. No siren calls from manufacturers of fancy, beautiful packs have made me swap it for anything else (and I tried). I like it so that as much as the gear junkie in me would like to try something new, I'm almost certain I'll get another Virga when this one wears out.

The Virga is lightweight but durable: it's been with me for years of heavy use (and some heavy loads) and the only rips it got happened in civilization. Only after Nordkalottleden it's showing some damage in one of the seams between shoulder strap and pack body, and it's not the seam that's failing but the strap fabric itself so it may be tricky to repair (but I'll try). It uses two different fabrics: a rugged, pretty thick one on the back panel and bottom; and a thin, lightweight one for the rest. It's frameless and its cylindrical shape and size perfectly fits a closed cell pad: I unroll the pad against the walls and this helps create a very stiff block. The compression system is excelent: adjustable straps on both sides and at the front, six total, all sewn to catenary cut panels that are supposed to spread the load (I guess they do). The shoulder straps have a thick, very good foam padding and I particularly like the way they're sewn to the pack body: they're not directly sewn to the flat back panel; rather, the back panel has got two pieces sewn together and one of them has a flap that sticks off the back panel all along its width. The shoulder straps are sewn to this flap so when you're wearing the pack the shoulder straps pull upwards from this flap they're sewn to. This avoids the outward pull that happens at these seams when the shoulder straps are directly sewn to the pack body. The problem in this kind of seam is the pull is trying to separate both surfaces and you can see these seams stretch no matter how reinforced they are. When sewn like in the Virga, the pull is linear to the seams so it's spread all along those seams and there's no stretching. A very good feature extrangely absent in most packs I've seen, lightweight or not.

Some people don't like the long extension collar; I think it's almost perfect lenght: it allows a good, roll down closure when the pack is not choked full and offers extra capacity for long sections.

Another feature some don't like are the stretchy side pockets: they're hardly accessible with the pack on but I still use them. The stretch quality makes them flat agaisnt the pack body when empty so they don't catch on vegeation and they still admit considerable size items and hold them securely. I carry a 2 liter Platypus in one of them, it's a perfect fit.

The one thing I didn't like about the Virga has been successfully addressed: I added a proper hip belt (actually, a discarded ULA one I found in a trash can, that is, an excellent hip belt) so now I really can transfer weight to the hips, turning the Virga into a bit of a load monster. I've carried up to 43 lbs. before in relative comfort. On Nordkalottleden, my biggest load was around 16 kg. or 35.5 lbs. (if the scale I used was accurate). My shoulders would feel some pain after a while but I guess the shoulder strap padding is not anymore what it used to be. It's been a long time already and so many miles.

Sleep system

The sleep system got conditioned by the shelter choice: as I was carrying a framed, enclosed tent, there was no need for a bivy bag/bag cover or a ground sheet. I kept the same bag as usual, also the same pad; I just added some clothing that could double as sleep gear.

For a bag I keep on using this great piece of gear that's the Arc Special quilt by Nunatak. I've gone in lenght before about how much I like it and why. It's a bit of a fringe item because it's relatively thin but I like the design a lot. The open bottom with adjustable straps makes it so versatile: that's the variable girth feature that lets you wear insulating clothing inside to match the conditions while multiusing those items. I also like the lack of a hood so I can have a hood independent of the rest of the bag and, again, re-use some items I'm already carrying.

The one problem with my Arc Special is that the compartments are slightly underfilled in my opinion. I have to take care of shaking the down towards the center of each compartment so I have good insulation over my body but even then sometimes the down falls towards the sides during the night leaving cold spots. I'm seriously considering getting a bit of extra down, an ounce or two will probably be worth it.

As for a pad, I still sleep comfortably in closed cell foam so that's a no brainer: no inflatables for me. The pad goes inside the pack during the day (still working for my comfort by helping pack rigidity) so packing it is not a problem. Good quality foam is a must.

Clothing

Together with the shelter, this is the department where I made some adjustments for the expected, harder than 3 season conditions. Top to bottom:

Head

Nothing new here, just the usual: wide brim hat for sun protection; fleece cap and neck buff for the cold.
I hardly used the wide brim hat as there was hardly any sun to protect from but I think I'd take it again. Wishful thinking for clear blue skies, so much appreciated in the arctic outdoor. I still managed to get a slightly burnt face skin one of the few days with some sunny hours (I didn't bother with the hat).
Fleece cap and neck buff are a very versatile team, both during the day and at night. They can create a continuous covered space around head and neck, a very welcome synergy. Head and neck are a key are for thermoregulation, the first place to cover or uncover as we need to warm up or cool down.

Torso

I added a layer, going from 4 to 5 and changed the hard, outer shell. I'm particularly fond of how well this clothing system worked.

The base layer was the same as usual: a polyester, long sleeve shirt with high neck and chest zipper.

The wind shirt was also the one I've been using for years: a Montane Featherlite Smock, a simple shirt in pullover style with chest zipper, elastic cuffs in Pertex Microlight fabric. It worked as well as always but given the sustained cold temps I missed a hood. I actually considered taking the hooded version of this same item (that I also own) but eventually decided against it as that model (named the Lightspeed) is considerably heavier: not only for the hood but also because it's a full zip jacket and has some other features I don't really need. No hood is usually ok when it's not too cold (and there's always the fleece cap and neck buff around) but when it is a hood becomes invaluable. I'd probably take the Lightspeed or some other hooded shirt if I was to do it again.

The fleece top (a Haglofs Solo Top in Polartec 100) was the additional layer. Fleece had been long displaced from my 3 season list in favour of high loft synthetic insulation but it's still got its place in winter. That's because when it's cold you may need to wear some insulation during the activity and the high loft synthetics are not good for that: they get compressed under the pack weight which kind of destroys them but, even worse, they don't manage perspiration well so often cause sweat build-up which is a very bad thing to happen. For us and for the insulation itself. Fleece is bulky and has a worse weight/insulation ratio but it deals with perspiration much better so it's the ideal insulation to wear while on the move. In Lapland, I expected to need something more than the base layer and the wind shirt quite often and... you bet I did.

The fleece top, being thin and simple in construction, wasn't any heavy and it layered beautifully over the base layer and under anything else I could need to add. It added great value in my system.

The synthetic insulation pullover was a new item but identical in concept to the one it came to replace. My old one had lost too much loft so I took the chance to get a Bozeman Mountain Works Cocoon pullover. I got the hooded version. The Cocoon is incredibly light for the loft if provides and it's perfect for camp use and to supplement the sleeping bag at night.

The hard shell is another item I changed. I took my old-ish Montane Superfly (a typical 2 layer lightweight nylon + PU membrane jacket) from the back of my closet, where it had been hiding for a few seasons, to take the place of the O2 Rainshield I had been using lately. The O2 Rainshield is one of these paper-like, cheap design, Propore fabric jackets so popular in lightweight backpacking. It's super light and it really breathes, so much better than any membrane I've used and, of course, it's waterproof. The downside is the rough design (it's rather a no-design), ultra-cheap materials (zipper, etc.) and fragility: this thing works but it's not too good for heavy use It's no joke it feels paper-like. It's still perfect for those summer trips when rain is always a possibility but not a probability and it's not expected to last for several days anyway. In Lapland, I expected to wear my hard shell more often so it felt better to take a sturdier one. I never imagined how righ I was. I eventually wore the jacket more than ever before in any trip.

The Superfly is a very lightweight, full featured and well designed jacket with the only drawback of the limited breathability inherent to PU membranes. It was kind of revealing to see how well it worked in the conditions: it was so cold and often windy that condensation inside the jacket was minimal and I could wear it in comfort far beyond usual. The use of an umbrella helped significantly with that.

In general, I had a most versatile torso clothing system. I took good care of using it well: baselayer alone would be a rare happening. baselayer + windshirt would be the standard and I'd add the fleece top if it was cold and switch the windshirt for the hard shell when it rained. Both operations would mean taking the windshirt off (the fleece top would layer inside), which was kind of tedious because the weather would change constantly but having the right combination on made me a happy hiker. As soon as I understood this, the constant changes were not anymore seen as a burden.

Legs

A few changes here too. A total of 4 layers may seem excesive (it does, even to me) so I'll try to explain and see if it makes sense:

The core of the leg wear was the usual convertible trouser. I like convertibles for the versatility. I love shorts and I need some shorts with me so if my trousers weren't convertible I'd have to take extra shorts. The Lowe Alpine Mettle were lying in my closet while I was convinced it had been a wrong buy: they're black (not too good in warm weather), I never liked the pockets and they lack elastic at ankle height. On the other hand, they're rugged, windproof nylon and the micro-fleece lining makes them very comfortable against the skin, even when damp. I wouldn't expect high temps in Lapland so I thought the black colour could be even an advantage so I put some velcro on the pocket openings to make them secure and also put the elastic at the ankle cuffs (which I find so useful to turn long trousers into below-the-knee shorts in a few seconds). With these modifications, the Mettle turned to be the perfect trouser for the task: they're windproof, bugproof and rugged, still (kind of) confortable when wet and they would dry amazingly fast. I'd like to stress how quick they'd get dry, which is such an important thing when using your trousers as a do-it-all item.

The polypropylene tights are also a classic. They're my pijama to help me keep my bag clean and emergency wear for whatever needs. I've never used them other than to sleep and in camp. They're extremely light, just 87 gr.

The wind pants are an item I had yet to take on a long trip. They're of questionable use when the main pants are already windproof but it felt kind of unsafe to take just those and nothing else. And I still object to take rain pants, which I don't like. It was also clear to me the rain skirt was out of the question this time so I decided for that kind of middle ground that are the wind pants. I took them more for rainy than windy conditions while being fully aware they're not at all waterproof but assuming my legs would get wet and hoping they'd keep warm while hiking and the pants would get dry quick. But then, ¿isn't all that what's already expected from the convertibles? Short answer: yes. So ¿weren't the wind pants kind of redundant gear? In a way, they were but it still felt safer to take them. My reasoning was they'd provide some extra warmth, if only for the extra layer, if it was needed and if things got really ugly, I could still wear them on their own and safe the convertibles dry.

I hardly used them. I think I only wore them while doing laundry in town (whatever "town" means in Nordkalottleden) yet I think I'd take them again. They provide that extra margin of security and peace of mind for so little weight (xxx gr.). This is UL treason, I know.

The insulating pants were a new addition. I got them for winter use but decided to take them with me on Nordkalottleden at the last minute. I was concerned about the net loss of loft in my sleeping bag commented above as much as about the potential for sustained cold and wet conditions that could further compromise the down insulation. It was a fringe bag when new, more so now that the baffles seem so dangerously short of down so it felt like an easy target for down collapse and failure in constant, high humidity like it could be expected in Lapland. The experience from the Arctic1000 guys also helped to make up my mind about this: I already had the pants, they were light and they'd be yet another safety item in a trip with too many uncertainties. They made the list.

This pants are the Cocoon UL 60 from Bozeman Mountain Works, a single layer of Polarguard synthetic insulation sandwiched between two layers of Pertex Quantum. Just 203 gr. Even in a worst case scenario of sleeping bag failure, I'd still had a full suit of synthetics (pullover and pants of matching colours) to sleep in.

My bag never failed and I'm not even aware it got significantly damp. I didn't perceive the ambient humidity to be very high either (but I may be wrong). Night time temperatures were not too low. Bottom line, I think I could have done without the Cocoon pants but again it was soothing to have them. I used them several nights as a preventive measure and hardly ever had to take them off but I think I'd had been allright without them. I also used them in camp sometimes but camp time (outside the tent/sleeping bag) was quite limited on this trip anyway. I didn't feel too comfortable about sitting or kneeling with this delicate piece on but I guess it's a matter of getting used to it; Quantum is tougher than it seems.

Feet

I took the usual three pair of socks. I know I can do with just two but this is another safety margin I'm happy to carry, particularly for the long trips.

The hiking shocks were the Smartwool Light Hiker model. The one thing I don't like about these socks is the limited durability but I already had a new pair at home. From previous experiences, I estimated they'd last for the trip and they did. They were just starting to develop holes by trip end. Wool is excellent for socks, very comfortable and warm but wears out quick. I'll try to go for some wool-nylon blend in the future.

The sleeping socks were the usual Bridgedale Trail Runner model. I only use them for sleeping so they're the only ones that make it through trip after trip. Light and warm.

The spare socks were a wool-nylon blend, the Bridgedale Endurance Trail Light model. They were hardly used but I felt better having them with me. They'll probably be my next hiking socks.

Shoes

During the High Sierra section of my Pacific Crest Trail 2006 thru-hike, I had experienced the joys of permanently wet feet. Not for hours but days and even weeks. Wet feet is not a nice thing but it's not as bad as most people seem to think or I myself used to think. Wet feet became an option. I was ready to take this option again in my Lapland trip.

I've talked extensively about hiking in lightweight, low-cut shoes in basically any kind of terrain before but I'll go with the basics again here: these shoes require less effort to walk and allow easier progression while being so much more gentle on your feet than classic mountain boots. The more rigid the boot, the more your feet have to adapt to it and the more terrain careless your tread becomes. With lightweight shoes, it's the shoe that adapts to the foot and you adapt your tread to the terrain. I think both are neat concepts.

Lack of ankle support is one of the most commont arguments against low-cut shoes but the question is, do we really need it? and how do we know if we do or not? Short answer is try and see for yourself. Bottom line is don't just believe the cliché. Ankle support is provided by our own ankles and that is more than enough for many of us. It may not be for some but we'll never know if we don't try.

Difficult trail tread is another common reason for justifying boots but I can't see why: a good sole can be mounted on a low-cut shoe as well as on any boot. Shoes for mountain hiking have indeed a good, grippy sole.

Then there's humidity. This is a very important factor in a permanently wet place like Lapland. The problem with water is that unlike air, it's a poor insulator. It conducts heat much better than air so it drains heat from that heat source that's our body, hence the cold feeling of a wet surface so the problem is actually one of temperature.

It's possible to have a waterproof low-cut shoe and use gaiters to get a good seal against the wet but neither that nor the heaviest, highest cut boots are an ideal solution for very wet conditions. No matter how waterproof, it seams water always finds a way through eventually and then the problem reverses: the more waterproof the shoe, the more difficult to get it dry. Hence the reversed approach to face the wetness: instead of fighting it, we can try to get on with it. In practice, this means we accept we'll get wet feet. We'll just keep hiking and hope they'll get drier or even dry if given the chance. We'll be wet but not hopeless.

The theory goes like this: low-cut, highly breathable shoes made of synthetic fabrics that won't absorb water, insulating socks that'll keep our feet reasonably comfortable even when soaked. Rain is not a problem by itself, it'll hardly soak our shoes but the wet vegetation will. No problem, we just keep hiking. We can go straight through puddles, streams or rivers with the added benefit of fording them with good treading shoes on. We just keep hiking. The shoes will drain excess water as we walk and it's a matter of a few minutes to go from soaked to just wet. The socks I use are thick enough to keep my feet reasonably comfortable but not so thick that they take too long to dry.

This is all a nice and tested practice in dry, warm conditions but would it work in a permanently wet and potentially cold place like Lapland? Again the Arctic1000 friends provide the evidence: it may work. It did for them. That and my own previous experience made it clear to me that I'd hike in Lapland with low-cut, highly breathable shoes and see what'd happen.

It worked beautifully and I was happy with the choice. Unlike in other trips, it hardly ever felt refreshing or somehow nice to dip my feet in water but as usual it wasn't that bad anyway. Wet feet became the norm and I would count the hours they were dry. The odd thing is I'd come to highly value dry feet so I'd came to a point where I'd be somehow betraying the whole principle (ie, it doesn't matter getting wet because it'll eventually happen anyway) and try to rock hop over streams or go around marshes to preserve my precious dryness... but it was a lost battle and I'd only waste time and energy. I only managed to keep dry feet for any significant length of time when Nordkalottleden shared tread with one of the other, more popular trails in the area, Kungsleden or Padjelantaleden, where I'd find bridges over streams and rivers and wooden platforms over every marsh.

I used Salomon Solaris II trail running shoes. Ideally, I'd have been using my most tried and tested Vasque Velocity model but I had a pair of the Salomons almost unused, bought on the trail where I couldn't find the Vasques. Anyway, both models are so similar in concept. If anything, I'd say the Salomons may be a bit less durable and the soles not so grippy over wet rock but in general I was just as happy as with the Vasques

Logistics

Access

Accessing the start and end points on the trail is technically easy but may get time consuming so it deserves some comment.

There's an amazingly dense network of public transport in Lapland, given the low population density. Train and bus may take you virtually anywhere but the connections may not be ideal given the remote locations of both start/finish. There are several options to get to/from there and there's probably not a best one as it depends on a lot of factors. I'll describe and reason my solution and will comment on the alternatives.

I chose my direction of travel and end point partly due to ease/difficulty of access. I went for the option that'd make it easiest to get back after trip end because by then I'd have a scheduled flight to take back home. Hiking southbound would put me closer to more populated areas as the trip progressed.

Nordkalottleden has two possible end points in the south: Kvikkjokk in Sweden and Sulitjelma in Norway. Both are tiny settlements at the end of a road in a mountain valley. The way out of Sulitjelma is much shorter than out of Kvikkjokk because in Norway the mountains are so much closer to the coast. They virtually merge in this narrow part of the country so it's a short way out until the Sulitjelma road hits the main north-south route. In Sweden, the mountains give way to a wide, flat land strip. This means it takes a long way out of Kvikkjokk to hit a north-south route that could take you somewhere else. On the other hand, once you hit this north-south way, it's flat and easy travel in Sweden while Norway is a nightmare (a very scenic one though) of mountains and fiords. I decided it'd be easier to travel on the swedish side so I chose Stockholm, the swedish capital, as my landing/taking off place for air travel. Once out of the mountains, it should be easy to find transport back to Stockholm.

Hiking southbound meant I had to start my hiking in Kautokeino so I'll go with that first.

Kautokeino

Kautokeino is a sizeable village in the far north. It's in Norway, some 60 kms. north of the finnish border. It's crossed by a north-south highway. I'd be coming from the south and the main problem here was that highway comes from Finland... and I'd be accessing it coming from Sweden. That is, I'd have to cross two international borders to get to Kautokeino. Not a problem as far as border crossing goes but because bus schedules across borders are somewhat sketchy.

The whole story went like this: from Stockholm, I took a train to get to Lapland. I left the train in Kiruna, the main village in northern Sweden. Then I needed 3 bus rides: first, from Kiruna to Karesuando, at the Sweden-Finland border. Walk across the border to Karesuvanto (finnish name of the same village). Actually, Karesuvanto is little more than a restaurant/petrol station. Second bus ride to Palojoensuu (tiny settlement; actually, I saw no buildings from the roadside bus stop). Third and last was the bus ride from here to Kautokeino but according to the news from the last bus driver the bus line that crossed the border had just stopped working for the season, the day before I was there! an odd end day for the season on 12th august... actually, this was a good thing to happen because it forced me to hitch-hike so I avoided the long connection time and arrived in Kautokeino several hours before the missing bus would have put me there.

Comments:

It took me awfully long to get to Kautokeino. I took my flight after work on friday and I was in Stockholm on friday night. I arrived in Kautokeino on monday afternoon. There must be some better way and next time I'd do it differently.

It's nice to be independent of car drivers' goodwill and have a schedule to get to destination but the bus connections were not good. I arrived in Kiruna on sunday morning and basically had to spend the whole day there waiting for the evening bus to Karesuando, where I had to spend the night. Next bus wasn't until mid-morning on monday and if I had waited for the third bus ride I'd have had to wait for a few more hours to eventually get to Kautokeino on monday evening. I appreciate the local public transport network which I find amazing but it took too long and it wasn't worth the wait. Hitch-hiking proved more effective.

I asked some locals before getting to Kiruna about hitch-hiking in the area... they told me it wasn't a usual thing to do and they would not recommend it. I still tried to get a ride out of Kiruna but nobody was stopping and it was cold and rainy and I was hungry so after an hour or two I decided to take it easy, go for lunch and wait for the bus. I think I could have had better luck going to the town limits at my road exit. There was regular traffic but maybe many of those were not going my direction.

In Palojoensuu there was very little traffic and quite a few drivers were tourists (you can't expect those to stop) but it took less than 20 min. to get a ride from a local on his way to Enontekio. Same story at the Enontekio crossroads, were I had to leave this car and wondered if there'd ever be any non-tourist traffic on that road that went north forever. I was still some 80 km. far from Kautokeino, around 20 km. south of the border. Around 10 min. later, a Kautokeino resident stopped and took me all the way there.

Hitch-hiking is as safe as it can be but the problem may be the lack of traffic. I'd still take public transport if available but I think hitch-hiking is a better option if connections are not good.

Getting to Kiruna from Stockholm would be faster by plane but also more expensive. The train is very convenient with two daily trains from downtown Stockholm but it's slow (almost 12 hours to get to Kiruna) and not too scenic as you're in a green tunnel most of the time. I think a plane ticket is around four times the price of the cheapest train fare (but that is travelling in a seat, which is not for everybody for a 12 hour, overnight ride; beds are more expensive). Another factor is Arlanda airport in Stockholm is very far from the city (around 45 km.); there's excellent public transport between both but the price adds up. I think I'd take the train again but I'd consider the plane if can make a reasonable flight connection and I don't have to go to Stockholm (if I don't want to visit Stockholm).

Getting to Kautokeino would be much easier from the north: there's a bus (a single bus ride!) from Alta in the norwegian far north and Alta has an airport. However, I found it was a pretty expensive flight and I had to go through Oslo, the norwegian capital, no direct flights from Stockholm. Additionally, it had to be a one way flight because returning to Alta from trail end didn't look like a good idea. I considered forgetting about Stockholm and going through Oslo, flying north to Alta and getting back to Oslo from trail end by train, bus or another flight from Narvik. This could be a good option but I decided against: near trail end, scape routes abound on the swedish side but not so many on the norwegian side. If schedule or bad weather forced me out of the mountains, it'd be easier to go towards Sweden. I preferred to favor the come back trip even if it was at the expense of a more complicated access to trail start.

Long explanation, I know, but I said there were many factors.

Now, from trail end:

Sulitjelma

I didn't go to Sulitjelma so I don't know how to get out of there but the coast and the main road are not too far away and I'm sure it wouldn't take long to find a way to get there. I bet there's public transport but I never tried to find out.

Kvikkjokk

Kvikkjokk is at the end of one of several routes that enter the swedish side of the mountains here and there. It's not clear to me from the road maps if all of those are paved but the Kvikkjokk road certainly is. It's a pretty level road which follows a long lake along a wide valley, getting narrower as you approach road end. Kvikkjokk itself is a tiny place with nice lodging, one of those fjallstations or mountain stations, we could say: a cozy hotel/hostel in a beautiful setting.

There's bus service in and out of Kvikkjokk. There are a couple of bus rides a day but by the time I arrived there, on 5th september and near the end of the season, there was just one left running, leaving Kvikkjiokk early in the morning (5.30 am, no less). Buses from Kvikkjokk take you to Jokkmokk, a sizeable village well off the mountains and just at the arctic circle line, if that means something, and the first major crossroads. Several bus lines and a railway line go through Jokkmokk. The trains are not on the Stockholm line so it's better to take a bus ride to either Murjek or Alvsbyn where you can take the train to Stockholm. The morning bus out of Kvikkjokk has a decent connection with either of these. There are also buses to Kiruna if you need to take a plane from there.

Ressuply

Not too many options here so this is quite straightforward. I'll comment on all the options in chronological order when hiking south. Out of all those, I ressuplied in Kilpisjarvi and Abisko plus a few items from some of the huts along the second half of the trip.

Kautokeino

Kautokeino has a nice supermarket and a petrol station with a shop. It may have some more shopping places but I didn't check the place out. I didn't ressuply here as I was carrying supplies for my first leg from home. I'd say a full ressuply should be no problem but you won't find backpacking specific stuff like freeze-dried meals.

Saraelv

Saraelv is a tiny place at the end of a road on the Reisadalen valley. It's the northermost spot along Nordkalottleden. The environment here though is probably the milder you'll find as it's also the lowest spot on the whole trip, below 200 m. There's only a few farm buildings, no public transport and no public telephone. The only service here is accomodation: there's a farm with cabins for hire. You'll need to be creative as the host (at the time I was through) only speaks norwegian but she was kind enough to let me hide from the rain for a while. It's said in some literature the closest shop is in Storslett, some 40 km. away. Some worker in the area told me there's a hostel in Suppen, just 15 km. from Saraelv, and they'll come to pick you up if you can phone them (cell coverage was apparently sketchy but doable. I didn't have a phone with me but this worker did and offered to phone for me if I wanted). They'd take you back to the trailhead too. In the short road stretch I had to hike before trail resume, I met only one vehicule and the driver asked me if I needed a ride. It doesn't seem difficult to get help here. Very nice people.

Kilpisjarvi

The first time Nordkalottleden comes down from the mountains since Saraelv it does so in this northwestern tip of the Arm of Finland, that narrow strip of finnish territory in between Norway and Sweden. Kilpisjarvi is a touristy setting along the shores of the namesake lake. It's not a real village but it's got all the basics a hiker needs.

Kilpisjarvi has too sections. Beware of this because no info source I had access to mentioned it. They're 5 km. apart so it's no joke if you're hiking. I only noticed when I checked the relevant topo map. Road maps show a single dot. Anywhere I checked, it only said "Kilpisjarvi".

Coming down from the mountains, the trail leads to South Kilpisjarvi. To get to North Kilpisjarvi, you can walk on the road or take a trail that parallels it on the uphill side.

Of interest for the hiker: in South Kilpisjarvi, there's the hotel (Hotel Kilpis), supermarket, restaurant and another shop with a postal service counter inside. The hotel has a restaurant too. In North Kilpisjarvi, there's Kilpisjarvi Retkeilikeskus: a motel/hostel and a campground. The motel has a restaurant and a tiny shop. I went to North Kilpisjarvi because I was told the hostel was there.

Three km. further up the road from North Kilpisjarvi, there's the customs building. This place is important because here is where you can get the key for the norwegian huts, if you haven't already (more comment on this on the huts section). Beware
the customs building is not at the actual border but much earlier within finnish land.

I'm not actually sure whether the motel room I got was a hostel room or there was something else... I arrived there late after a strenous day and I just asked for "a room"... to eventually pay the same price that I saw announced at the hotel (40 euro) with the sensible difference that at 9.00 pm the kitchen was already closed at Kilpisjarvi Retkeilikeskus. They tell me it's open until 11.00 pm at the hotel but no way I was walking 5 km. back! I ate sandwiches.

Furthermore, the tiny shop at Retkeilikeskus was not enough for ressuplying. Next morning, I had to go to the supermarket, just in front of the Hotel Kilpis. Fortunately, I could use one of the bicycles they had for hire at Retkeilikeskus so the 5 km. were just a 10 min. ride. The only thing that was handier from Retkeilikeskus was the customs building, which I needed to visit to get the key for the norwegian huts. I used the bike for this too.

At Retkeilikeskus, the room was simple but nice. There was a sauna I didn't use. There's no laundry facilities. There's no public telephone either but the reception stuff let me use their phone and charged me a fair price, as did for the bicycle use. The reception stuff were very nice and helpful.

Bottom line, unless I missed the real hostel rooms and they were considerably cheaper, I think the Hotel Kilpis, on the south section of Kilpisjarvi, was a better deal, if only for the supermarket and post office counter across the street. I don't know if there were laundry facilities or public telephone at the Hotel.

Innset

Quite like Saraelv, Innset is a small settlement at the end of a road down in a valley. The headwaters of the valley are filled by a long, dammed lake. The road comes from down the valley up to the dam. Nordakalottleden comes down from the mountains and along the lake to cross over the dam and take up again. The southbound hiker will pass dozens of holiday homes in the few km. before reaching the dam but there's nothing there but homes. Right besides the dam there seemed to be a campground (I could see lines of parked motorhomes but nobody on sight) and the actual hamlet is 3 km. further down the road.

I didn't go to Innset. Abisko was just a day ahead. I don't know if there's a shop there but I think there isn't. The only thing I do know that's of interest to hikers is there's hiker friendly accomodation in Innset.

As you approach the dam from both south and north you'll find wooden boards with public information. One of the signs there belong to a guest house. I was told (by another hiker I met) the place is friendly and reasonably priced. You'll find a phone number and they say they'll come to pick you up and put you back on the trail when you leave but there's no public telephone so you'd have to use your own. I didn't have a cell phone so I couldn't check but I guess there'll be coverage as there seems to be pretty much everywhere near towns. Otherwise, it's just 3 km. down the road.

Bjorkliden

Bjorkliden is just a few km. before Abisko so I didn't stop here. Even though the trail seems to go right through it (from the maps) I didn't because at that point I was hiking on the road for that last stretch before Abisko so I know really nothing from this place. It looks like a real village but it'll be a tiny one and I don't think there'll be anything you cannot find in Abisko. The only thing I could think it could be more convenient is having everything all together (the supermarket in Abisko is 2 km. far from everything else, see below) but I don't know if there is a shop at all.

Abisko

Abisko is little more than a train station and a lodge but it's got pretty much every basic a hiker needs and in a very compact package so it's very convenient. There's not much option anyway. Nordkalottleden goes right by the door. Abisko is also the northen terminus for the Kungsleden trail, with which Norkdalottleden shares tread for a lengthy stretch south from here. Like in Kilpisjarvi, there are two sections in Abisko and like in Kilpisjarvi, I found no advice about this in any information source I checked. I only knew the day I got there. Fortunately, the gap between the two is only 2 km. so you can walk that in half an hour or less.

Western Abisko is the first one the southbound hiker meets and it's the one with most of the facilities the hiker needs: railway station, a lodge with hotel and hostel accomodation, restaurant, public telephone, laundry, shop and drying room. There's a campground nearby too. The hostel rooms are in a separate building but reception is the same for everything. The restaurant is open all day with a rather tight schedule for breakfast, lunch and dinner and works as a bar the rest of the time. It bears mention dinner is either buffet (the same as breakfast and lunch) or a la carte. Buffet dinner guests go first (something like at 19.00 h.) and apparently you need to book your place in advance (like early in the day) but it seems you can dine a la carte if you just show up late (as I did). This is more expensive but I deserved it. You'll deserve it by the time you get here.

The hostel rooms are standard. I shared a 6 bunk room and I guess most rooms are like that. Shower/toilet are common. The drying room is huge and you'd better be quick arranging your stuff... it's warm in there! (and sauna is next door anyway). The shop is small but has a surprisingly spot-on selection for hikers. Half the shop is food stuff, the other half is gear. You can find butane/propane canister fuel, both Camping-gaz and standard, Lindal valve, screw-on canisters (coleman, primus and the like). I didn't check alcohol fuel. The food is typical hiker food (pasta, breakfast cereal, bread, powder milk, powder mashed potatos... I was almost able to ressuply here even though I was getting food for almost two weeks! but I was missing some cheese or dry meat and a better selection on nuts so I went for the supermarket.

The Supermarket is on eastern Abisko, 2 km. further down the road. You can walk most (probably all) this distance on a side way among the trees so no need to walk the road itself, which has little traffic anyway. This side of Abisko, there's a second railway station (they must be like 30 seconds apart when travelling on the train), a supermarket, another grocery store, a petrol station, a restaurant/cafe and a few resident homes. I guess you could use the train to get here from the other side but there must be only a few trains a day. The supermarket is of decent size and allows a full ressuply, no problem. It also has postal service inside. The other grocery store was quite useless (just some candy and little else).

The best thing about Abisko is it's a place for hikers. Most guests there seem to be hikers of some kind. You'll see packs against the hall walls the whole day. Reception staff knows about hiker needs. The shop is all about hiker stuff. There's a hiker's information counter where local rangers (or whatever they call them in Sweden) will answer your hiking questions. They publish a detailed weather forecast everyday. As I stated above, you can return your norwegian huts' master key here if you have to but I didn't ask if you can get one.

One potential problem for the thru-hiker in a hurry to leave is there seems to be just one washing machine for the whole place. I was lucky to be the only one using it that evening. No drying machine but you have the drying room. All my stuff was dry in the morning.

As usual and like all along the trail, very friendly atmosphere and helpful staff.

South of Abisko

There are no more towns south of Abisko. That's approximately half the distance of the whole Nordkalottleden trail, around 400 km. On this long stretch, the southbound hiker meets a dirt road, a boat landing and a heliport. None of these are good ressuply options but there's another way: on the swedish side of the mountains, some of the huts sell some supplies. The problem was I couldn't rely on this as nobody would tell me for sure there would actually be something left when I went through. It was the end of the season. so I packed food for twelve days, planned on 13-14 to cover the distance and hoped I could buy at least a little something to cover the gap... or be hungry towards the end.

There's a guidebook that lists all the huts and fjallstations in sweden with info on things like whether provisions are sold. You can check this book in Abisko but the info is very rough. It just states a yes or no (provisions are available) with no info about what's actually on offer. I planned to be as self reliant as possible but 14 days of food was a bit too much for my pack (and my back, shoulders, etc.) so I started with supplies for 12 days and planned on re-stocking at Salka hut, 2/3 days into the section. I'd be on my own from there.

There were supplies in the following huts:

Alesjaure: big store with all a hiker might need for a full ressuply. I was there early on day 2 from Abisko so didn't bring anything but took a good, second breakfast.

Salka: nice shop, good enough for a full but limited in choices ressuply. Pasta, rice, powder milk, powder instant potatos, tea, coffe, breakfast cereal, nuts, energy bars, cheese plus many other things I wouldn't take with me like canned stuff (meat and/or vegetable meals, pineapple, etc.). I spent night 2 out of Abisko in Salka. Had a huge dinner with stuff from the shop and got some additional pasta, milk and instant potatos to complement what I already had.

Vajsaluokta: no supplies but the warden offered me left-overs from previous hikers. I also spent a night here and had dinner and breakfast from those.

Staloluokta: there was a shop there but I didn't even check.

Pieskehaure: by the very end of the season, only a handful of things available but they were so welcome when I was starting to cut on rations to make it to the end. Typical stuff: pasta, instant potatos, biscuits (I took some with me) and some canned meals I had dinner from. They had literally a dozen (total) items left.

Tarrekaise: I was told there were supplies here too but didn't check. Just a few hours to go anyway.

Some of the huts on the Padjelantaleden section offered smoked fish and bread. These huts are owned and run by the local Sami. They go fishing during the day and smoke it in the evening so they can sell it to hut guests for dinner. I had the chance to try it in Laddejakka but I guess you can't rely on this.

Huts

There are huts along Nordkalottleden. It seems to me there's no hut scheme for the entire trail though which is not surprising as Nordkalottleden was routed along previously existing trails. The huts were probably already there too. Yet, they're quite evenly spaced and they're usually a traditional backpacker's day walk apart except for a 50+ km. void stretch.

The hut scheme is slightly different for each country Nordkalottleden goes through but they have many things in common. All huts I saw were wooden buildings and all had a fireplace. All were in good condition. None of them provide meals but a few of the swedish huts in the more popular routes sell some food. Some huts are very small and basic and they may have nothing but a fireplace and sleeping platforms. Most huts, however, have quite a few more facilities. Huts are for everybody to use but access conditions vary. Water is always nearby but this is no news: water is always nearby anywhere in Lapland. A brief description of the hut system for each country follows.

Finland

Finnish huts are either free access or reservable. There's usually both types at each location either in separate buildings or different sections of the same building. Reservable huts are locked and I didn't use them. Free huts are open for everybody to use. The only one I stayed at had a single room with a fireplace, a propane gas stove, a table, chairs and two rows of wooden platforms that would sleep 10 or 12 people. I guess most are like that. The free access huts are first come, first served but I guess nobody is turned down. Propane gas and wood are provided. An outhouse is available. Huts are a dense network in the finnish section of Nordkalottleden. All I checked were in excellent condition.

Sweden

Swedish huts have a warden and there's a fee for using them. There are also some free access, basic huts. These latter are sometimes meant as an emergency hut in some key spots. The regular huts are usually big and/or have several buildings in each location. There's a warden in charge during the summer season (july to mid september) and the winter season (I think it goes from march to may; they call it "winter" but it's more like spring). At other times, there's at least a room open for emergency use.
The usual configuration is a staying room with fireplace, tables, chairs, propane gas burners and kitchen utensils. It's usually more like a full kitchen but without running water. Then, there's the sleeping rooms which usually have 2 to 6 bunks each. They have a matress. There were also blankets but you needed to provide sheets or a sleeping bag liner (I didn't have either so I just used my sleeping bag). Some huts have a dedicated drying room, others have some arrangement over the fireplace to hang the wet stuff. There are petrol lamps in some huts. There's an emergency telephone.

The warden will assist with any problem and collect the fees. You have to cook your own meals, clean the dishes afterwards and you're welcome to comunal tasks such as bringing in fresh water, taking out dish water, chopping wood, keeping the fireplace going and obviously cleaning everything after you.

Wood and propane bottles are brought in at the beginning of the season. Wood is usually stored in a separate shed. There's an outhouse. There are also trash cans where you can leave your litter.

Swedish huts are not cheap: around 20 euro per night for members of the STF (Svenska Turistforeningen) or equivalent organization in your country of origin. This equivalence applies easily to norwegian and finnish hikers as there seems to be a similar organization in those countries but I don't know how it would for other countries. What I do know is YHI (Youth Hostelling International) membership is acknowledged. I was lucky I had this membership on, don't forget to get it if you plan on using the swedish or norwegian huts.

An interesting option is camping besides the huts. You can still use all the facilities except the sleeping rooms. You can cook and stay indoors and use the drying room or drying racks and then you go to sleep in your tent. This is damn cheap, around a half euro.

The huts are owned by the STF except in the Padjelanta section of Nordkalottleden, where they're owned by the local Sami. These huts had propane heaters instead of a fireplace; other than that, they were pretty much like the others.

Norway

Norwegian huts are very similar to swedish huts but instead of a warden, there's a key. There's no warden in the huts but they're locked. They all use the same key which you can get before departure and return when you're done. If you don't have the key, you can still use the huts if you find them open (because there's already somebody there).

The huts themselves are quite similar to the swedish ones so refer above for a full description. I'd just add they're probably a bit smaller in Norway and drying was always on the racks above the fireplace. All the huts I checked or stayed at were in pristine condition.

Norwegian huts are owned by DNT (Den Norske Turistforening). There's a fee for using them, around 10 euro per night for DNT members. I think it was around twice that price for non members. As in swedish huts, membership in a similar organization in your country of origin counts. In my case, YHI (Youth Hostelling International) membership is what I used. Payment is self-serve: there's a form you fill where you state your data: full name, address, number of nights, membership, if applicable and your credit card data. Put this in a box where someone collects it so the DNT will charge you later. I remember there were other means of payment other than credit card but I can't remember exactly which...

Getting the key for the norwegian huts

This didn't look straightforward so I didn't for the first leg of the trip. After trying the northern mountain weather, I decided it'd feel safer to have it with me so I got one. It should be easy but anyway I'll talk about what I know:

Literature used to address me to some central offices in Narvik, Tromso or even Oslo, way out of my reach. This is not necessary. I think you can get the key in any tourist office, at least in those close to hiking areas with huts. That was the case in Kautokeino. I didn't try to get it there but I talked to some other hikers who did. They eventually couldn't because of some odd procedure along which they had to make a payment (for a deposit) on the internet... odd because they were already there... why couldn't they pay cash, I don't know, neither did they... but internet access was not working that day. Anyway, bottom line is you should be able to get your key in Kautokeino if you start your hike there.

I got my key in Kilpisjarvi, oddly enough as Kilpisjarvi is in Finland (and this is a norwegian key) but they have copies (at least, one) at the customs building in the finnish side. The customs building is 3 km. down the road from North Kilpisjarvi and around 5 km. before the actual border. The officer there didn't speak much english and communication was kind of tricky. He seemed to not know what I was talking about until he asked another colleague. I was asked for my membership documentation (YHI card in my case) and had to pay a 10 euro deposit and I got the key. Being a deposit, it's supposed to be refundable when you return the key but it wasn't evident how to get the money back. The officer told me I could claim it back at that same office (where an annotation was made) but obviously that was not an option for me. As stated above, communication was not too fluent so I decided to leave it there and consider my 10 euro lost. An investment in peace of mind for the rest of my trip. A money well spent, I must say.

I would hike into Norway but I wouldn't get to civilization on the norwegian side so returning the key was not so straightforward. I'm sure it's possible to send it by mail wherever they take care of them. That's in fact what I did. In Kvikkjokk, my end point, there was no place to return the key, neither in Jokkmokk, the first sizable village I got to. In my way through Abisko, I had verified they get the returned keys (despite being in Sweden) and they accept them on the mail. The tourist office in Jokkmokk got the key and sent it to Abisko for me.

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