Setting up camp on the summit with a magnificent view. — Photos: PHILIPP LAAGE/dpa
The ground is uneven, there are ants and deer droppings everywhere. My friend tries to reassure me that everything will be fine. We’ve been following the forest path for an hour and can hardly keep our eyes open. We won’t find a better place to set up camp.
The original plan was to follow a route in Femundsmarka National Park in Norway, with marked stages for each day. The woman from the campsite in Elga, on the shore of the Femunden, Norway’s second largest natural lake, advised us to take a different approach: look at the weather each day and then spontaneously decide where to go.
Spurred on by this local recommendation, we simply set off after arriving in the evening and now find ourselves in the middle of the forest, in the middle of the night.
Was this a silly idea? Should we have prepared better? And aren’t there bears around here?
Maybe, but for the moment there are two things on our minds. Firstly, we are carrying everything we need for the next few days on our backs – tent, sleeping bag, clothes, gas cooker, food. It’s heavy, but knowing we’re self-sufficient keeps us going. Secondly, it never gets completely dark up here in June.
Nordic wilderness
The Femundsmarka is located in southern Scandinavia, stretching from Norway into neighbouring Sweden. The landscape is characterised by lakes, rivers, forests and fells, barren plateaus that were formed at the end of the last ice age, some 10,000 years ago. It’s a picture-perfect Nordic landscape.
But while hundreds visit the Lofoten archipelago or the Kungsleden hiking trail further north, you hardly meet anyone in Femundsmarka – because there is hardly anywhere to stay. One of the few cabins is called Svukuriset, which is where we are headed.
The next morning we follow a path that leads out of the forest to a barren hill. The stones slow us down and confuse our walking rhythm. We’re making slower progress than we would have liked.
Before noon Svukuriset, a red wooden building, comes into view. It’s locked. And it won’t open for another week, as we find out online. After a short rest we head east to get deeper into the national park, and further away from civilisation.
When we reach a summit, the sun is already low. We decide to set up camp right here. The evening light makes the grass and bushes glow golden. Our bodies cast the shadows of giants with metre-long legs. We look across the plain to the horizon which is five or 25km away. You can’t tell in this treeless wilderness.
Never trust just your phone
This small group of trees is called an 'oasis' and truly looks like one amid the surrounding wasteland.
The day after next, we take a path leading to a rocky plain and walk towards a small group of trees that is called “oasis” and truly looks like one in this wasteland. When we get there, we take off our boots and soak our sore feet in the freezing cold water.
The GPS track leads northeast. We still want to reach the Nedre Roasten lake and set up camp there.
It’s amazing how the Femundsmarka landscape changes character. From a moor in the morning to the Felsenmeer rocks, we now enter a pine forest that reminds us of Canada. There are bears in this area; sometimes we think we recognise a paw print. The river roars wildly.
The GPS suggests we cross the stream twice. So, my friend says, we have to cross there and look for the second bridge, a little further down. Building two bridges just a short distance apart doesn’t make sense, I say. The trail must be wrong. In the end, we do have to go back, across the river again, and head north. We find a path.
A tranquil campsite is waiting by the lake. Like every evening, dinner consists of freeze-dried food under the stars. Chewing on our pasta and curry, we look at the still waters and feel a little proud to have mastered the day with confidence.
At one with nature
Hiking in Femundsmarka National Park means taking the day as it comes, and deciding according to the weather how far the day’s route will take you.
The morning brings rain for the first time. We take a path back towards Elga, first along the lake, then through the forest and over a rainy plateau. Dark clouds gather in the afternoon, lightning flashes in the distance. We march faster to find a place for our tents, again near the Svukuriset cabin. Our tour is almost complete.
You could say that we ended up back in Elga a day earlier than planned. But that’s wrong. We hiked without a plan, day after day, at one with nature, and in the end we found a route that was just right. – Philipp Laage/dpa
