Oian Airport to Fiskahogda
Finally some well needed, deep sleep. I wake up well rested and take my time to get ready.
I know, I shouldn't waste too much time, since the weather forecast predicts thunderstorms and rain this afternoon and I plan a long day. But it's just so comfy up here in my tower.
Eventually I get my act together and take-off, heading 180 (south for my non-aviation-friends). Destination: Fiskahogda. An ambitious goal. 45 kilometers. But then again, defining such a goal definitely improves my motivation. Something, a place, I have to aim for. Wanting to reach it, I can squeeze out some extra energy.
On the other hand I have days where I just walk, without any set destination. It's a different kind of hiking. Less pressure, more relaxed.
A mix of both suits me well. What isn't working though are non-ambitious goals. I can't find the motivation and walking gets surprisingly difficult.
Anyway, the initial 12 kilometers road walk and the following trail help to get closer to my goal. It's a far cry from the trails I hiked on the previous days (if there was a trail). Well marked, easy to walk. They are even about to install boardwalks over wetlands. Once they are ready, it will literally be an autobahn. It's 14:30, when I have left 35 kilometers behind me. Surprisingly good pace. Fiskahogda now just a stone's throw away.
Well, it can't be that easy. And it isn't. The trail is still great but the bad weather is closing in, massive cumulus towering above me. Soon afterwards I get hit by the first fat raindrops. I don't care about the rain though. It helps cooling down. However, the lightning strikes are bothering me. Since I nearly got hit by a lightning while camping two years ago, I became more cautious and aware. Luckily, the lightnings strike more towards the west, over the lake. Still, I push even harder know. The last couple of meters are steep and seem to take forever. I would be royally pissed off and even a bit desperate if the shelter was either locked or occupied. There is no plan B. The shelter is at over a 1000 meters above sea level and exposed. No way I could pitch my tent anywhere nearby. And I don't have the energy to continue.
Luckily the shelter is neither locked nor full. Even the sun comes out briefly. But only for a couple of seconds. The shelter is nothing to remember (it has a weird old-people's-smell) but is perfectly suited to sit out the storms, which are rolling over from Sweden tonight and tomorrow morning.