Hellmofjorden

There were two main purposes to this trip. The first was to get a view of Hellmofjorden, one of the most beautiful fjords in the area, a branch of Tysfjorden, which itself is a branch of the immense Vestfjorden. The second was to climb over 1000 metres - something I have not even managed to do in my own country (Wales has only three mountains over 1000 metres, and the tallest has a mountain railway to the top - I have little interest in walking up to the top beside a railway, I like to be in the wild when I walk).

Originally we had planned a longer walk from the south, crossing the ridge of Stolotindan, and then back via an alternate route, totalling nearly 35 kilometres. After some preliminary walks we realised this would be impossible to do in one day, so we adjusted our plans to approach from the north. We would take a boat to the base of the mountain, climb it, and make it back in time for the return boat. That would give us 5 hours to ascend, and 4 to descend. If we failed to make it in time, we would take the long walk back to the north, a total of 20 kilometres (including the walk up the mountain, but not the 5 kilometres walking on road).

We underestimated a few things:

• How long it would take to reach the peak
• How long it would take to get down from the peak
• How difficult the terrain would be to reach the base camp at 700 m
• How difficult the terrain would be between the basecamp and the base of the peak
• How difficult the terrain would be to reach the towns in the north
• Exactly what constitutes a "path"

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• The first part of our journey began as a boat trip from Drag to the Sami village of Musken.
• Ruosvágtjårro 1179 and Spisstinden 1149 with the Sami villages of Musken on the left and Leirelva on the right. Our walk would lead us from Musken to Leirelva, then up the first 700 metres of Spisstinden, then round to Stolotindan. At the top of the main valley between Ruosvágtjårro and Spisstinden is a large glacier.
• Musken is just like any other isolated town - it has electricity, streetlights, and telephones. It also has a tractor that the residents share. Specially for me, the mountains by Musken also hold the deepest cave in Northern Europe; Råggejávrrerájgge, 597 metres deep (according to Wikipedia).
• A "car" in Musken. The child driving it pulled a power skid as he started off, blasting the throttle to the maximum 10 kilometres per hour!
• Sami damer - noticeably different to other Norwegians; their eyes are shaped differently, and their hair is darker (very pretty, if I may say so). They are also known as Laplanders, as this is their place of origin. If this is you, thankyou so much for letting us take your picture, I hope we didn't appear too weird. Claudio said that we should have asked them to walk with us, not just allow us to take their picture, but I pointed out that he also had a voice and could not blame me for not obtaining damer company for him.
• After a false start and some awkward path finding (we should have asked the damer to show us the way), the route to Leirelva was located.
• Leirelva, another Sami village.
• As with many Norwegians living in this area, Sami hunt wild animals, such as Moose. The wild animal is then prepared in a variety of ways as food. I am not impressed with people who hunt for the sake of hunting. Yes Tony Morgan, I mean you. No, I do not want to hear another story about your guns, or how you can use a device that someone else created, and kill an animal that you give absolutely no chance of defending itself. To me, you are just an ignorant old fool who understands absolutely nothing about the beauty of a wild animal.
• Filling up water bottles with glacial meltwater.
• These large orange mushrooms were seen in many places on the walk. They looked edible, but we did not want to risk it right now - lucky, since they are poisonous ...
• Climbing through the forest above Leirelva. The path was not obvious, but was the best path we encountered all day.
• Occasionally, we were able to see Spisstinden rising above us. It looked easy, but that was a mistaken opinion.
• The paths split (or so the map said) and we stayed on the left of the cliffs.
• Finally at the first saddle, 404 (not found) metres.
• Starting towards the Spisstinden ridge. It looks beautiful, but that beauty is deceptive - so often true with many things in life.
• The terrain was a lot harder than it looked. Each little ridge required you to zig-zag to find a part where you could ascend the polished rock then get down to the base of the next one. Always two steps up, one step down.
• At least the views over Hellmofjorden were rewarding.
• The stunning panorama of Stolotindan (in the clouds), the Tennvatnan, Nedre, Langvatnet and Husvatnet lakes on Vetefjellet with Tysfjorden behind them - we would walk across Vetefjellet to get back - next is the 734 metre peak on Vetefjellet, followed by Tjielumvárre (999 metres), Basudistjåhkkå (954 metres), the stunning Hellmofjorden, and finally Måsketjåkkå (858 metres) and Gåjgivárre (1036 metres). If you want some scale, look at the ferry on the fjord.
• This is the same picture as I used on the end of the last panorama, but I believe it deserves a second look. (This image also has a wallpaper available when viewing the gallery normally - not as a slideshow.)
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• Refilling from the meltwater streams on Spisstinden.
• The 1089 and 1011 metre peaks of Stolotindan. We were aiming for the 1011 metre peak. The 700 metre basecamp is in the saddle of the ridge to the left. (This image also has a wallpaper available when viewing the gallery normally - not as a slideshow.)
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• Crossing a snow field on Spisstinden.
• A rare view of the mountains beyond the end of Hellmofjorden. Hellmofjorden cuts almost the whole way across Norway, and produces the narrowest part of the country, just 6 kilometres. The mountains in the distance are actually in Sweden.
• Basecamp at 700 metres.
• The large and daunting boulder field we would have to cross to reach the peak. The saddle in the distance is 1000 metres away, and 900 metres altitude at its lowst point, the peak to the right is the 1011 metre peak we were aiming for.
• The cloudbase was generally at 800 metres, and the wind was blowing the clouds over the ridge, so we donned wet weather gear.
• Yup, we both had our own wet weather gear - amazing isn't it.
• Crossing the uncomfortable boulder field, carefully picking a safe route, taking nearly an hour and a half in each direction.
• This iron stained boulder stood out against the white of the others. Most of the boulders contain a large amount of flint, so it must be a beautiful light show if they fall from the peaks at night.
• Occasionally we had to cross streams running across smooth, slippery rock. The silvery moss (reindeer moss) is thin and sturdy, the brown moss hides a deeper pool of water that will swallow your boots without warning.
• Climbing up above the cloudbase at 800 metres.
• Even here, plants still flourish.
• Maybe I am wrong (and I don't care if I am), but this looks suspiciously like a bear's paw print - or maybe a wolverine (probably one of these).
• Now at just above 800 metres, and the boulder field continues, it is getting very monotonous.
• The flowers were getting smaller, but they still braved the altitude.
• Boulders in the snow fields have hollows around them.
• And of course, being a caver, I cannot resist the temptation to work out where they go - unfortunately not very far.
• Two parents tried to distract us so that we would not see their chicks. They would flutter aound us then try to make us chase them in the wrong direction.
• The 900 metre ridge was in sight. (This image also has a wallpaper available when viewing the gallery normally - not as a slideshow.)
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• For a moment, the clouds cleared, and we were able to see the 1011 metre peak.
• The 1089 metre peak also loomed out of the mist, like a sentinal, guarding the ridge.
• Some bright pink flowers at 900 metres.
• Reaching the upper saddle at 920 metres - Woohoo!
• Even this far north, plants still grow at nearly 1000 metres, mainly a few grasses, and as here, several brightly coloured lichens.
• Some bright red lichens at 920 metres.
• These alien-sucker lichens are quite common in Norway, but the red appendage is quite special.
• I left Claudio sitting at 920 metres, and continued towards the peak.
• I could see it rising nearly 80 metres above me, and it was looking very steep.
• All routes except this slippery gully were overhanging, and the drop under the gully was nearly 200 metres. I could climb this, but I was alone without any equipment, and did not wish to become a permanent component of the boulder pile, so half way up the gully, I was forced to abandon my attempt to achieve the summit. I had reached 1000 metres, it was not worth risking my life for another 11.
• Sliding down the snow fields was a more enjoyable alternative to the boulders.
• We could even practice a few ballet moves.
• Back at the 700 metre basecamp, our clothes were drenched with sweat (urgh).
• Now began the walk back down. It was a little daunting after the walk up - the top part is made up of several smooth and slippery streamways, and on the way up, we had been forced on more than one occasion to backtrack and pick a new route, losing a lot of precious height in the process.
• The tunnels under the ice were inticing me. It has been nearly 5 months since I was last able to go caving.
• An insane caterpillar.
• "Stop taking pictures and come and help", thus begins the marsh - occasinally finding it change from boot-deep to knee or even thigh-deep. Like any good damer, it can literally make you sink to your knees; it truly sucks, and not in a good way.
• The sledge run down to Tennvatnan.
• Looking across Tennvatnan at 250 metres, towards the peaks of Stolotindan at over 1000 metres.
• And then we learned the truth; the "unmarked path" was not really a path at all. It simply means "You might possibly want to think about walking somewhere in this general direction because several years ago someone else thought about possibly walking somwhere in this direction ... not sure if they made it though". There is no path, there is not even a hint of a path, and it is quite possible that no-one else has ever walked there. The lakes all have a slight trail around them, but often they are up and down over boulders or blocked by trees.
• Soothing sore feet in Tennvatnan, while simultaneously trying to avoid the hundreds of mosquitoes that swarm around you as soon as you stop for a couple of seconds. Industrial strength insect repellent does a reasonable job but it does not last long enough. If it does not contain enough warnings about prolonged use, not using too much, not using it on children, not getting it near your eyes and mouth, etc, then it is not good enough.
• As with everywhere else in the Norwegian wilderness, someone has to build a hytte there. No matter where you are in Norway, you can walk for hours into the middle of nowhere, turn a corner, and find some Norwegian sunbathing there. Takes the "wilderness" feeling away faster than you can say "don't fence me in".
• Streaky sunlight over Vetefjellet. (This image also has a wallpaper available when viewing the gallery normally - not as a slideshow.)
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• And again - I took many pictures of this, but I will leave you with these. (This image also has a wallpaper available when viewing the gallery normally - not as a slideshow.)
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• We had left the valley, and climbed up the marshy ridge to Langvatnet. The map lied, there was no path, so we walked using only compass bearings. This is fairly typical of the rest of the route; deceptive ridge after ridge, always believing that it would be the last, or maybe that there might not be a marsh in between the next pair of ridges - haha! oh, haha! yes? you wish!
• Corkscrew?
• It may not look like much, but this is a Moose track on the edge of Langvatnet. We saw more fresh tracks later in the day, but despite my attempts, we never saw any Moose.
• OK, I lied, here, have another picture. (This image also has a wallpaper available when viewing the gallery normally - not as a slideshow.)
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• Looking back towards Stolotindan.
• Like a shining beacon, telling us which way to go. Finally, we could see the end of the marsh. We had already been walking across it for 3 hours, and we had another 3 hours to go. (This image also has a wallpaper available when viewing the gallery normally - not as a slideshow.)
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• Tennvatnet. When we saw this, we realised that walking on a compass bearing had taken us nearly half a kilometre too far to the east. Frustrated with the stupid non-path marked on the map, we corrected our route, and continued towards Helland. (This image also has a wallpaper available when viewing the gallery normally - not as a slideshow.)
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• Another hour later, covering nearly 4 kilometres of marsh, we were rewarded with the view of Helland below us.
• We feasted on cloudberries as we slid down to Helland, finding there was a real path for a short section, even with steps and railings!
• Literally "The mountain" - in case you hadn't noticed it, or were having trouble finding it - of course, it does not tell you which mountain, but that doesn't matter now, does it?

Next was the agonising trudge along the road to Drag, wishing for some kind passer by to give us a lift - we were completely spent, and when we were finally picked up just before Moa, we had walked 23 kilometres in 17 hours, climbed to 1000 metres, seen one of the most beautiful fjords in Tysfyorden, seen Sweden, met Sami, battled with ribbed rock for 3 hours, blown another 3 hours crossing a boulder field without even gaining any height, and finally fought with a marsh for 6 hours - by the time we got to bed, we had been awake for a grand total of 22 hours, and we hurt ... a lot.

That was it. Too tired to do any walking the next day, and rain the day after that, I enjoyed relaxing among the scenery, waiting to go back home to Becci, a shower, and a toilet with a flush.

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