Peeing in the mist

Usually I can get through the night without having to get up to pee. Not last night, but what a joy. The lake is beautifully shrouded in mist. What a gift. The view, right? Not the weak bladder…

Breakfasting in the sun

Once I’m truly awake, I move the table and the luxury garden chair from under the awning to a spot in the sun. It’s about seventeen degrees, but calm and with the sun, it’s delightful. Oooooh, I could stay here forever. What a lovely place. And with a table and a chair. This can only inspire. Unfortunately, that’s not an option. The supermarket is still at least two days’ walk away and I don’t have much food left. Such a shame.

Guestbook on a string

In the guestbook, hanging from a string under the awning, I write a thank you note. This place has been a luxury for me as a hiking and writing nomad. I’ve noticed that this hut – quite hidden and not marked in the app – is not often visited. The guestbook goes back to 2016 and is still far from full, but everyone who has written something here is full of praise.

Less happy with Wheelie

Then I hit the most difficult path so far. And it’s also the first time in three months that I’m less happy with my Wheelie. It’s a struggle and I’m not making much progress. That can indeed happen, but it doesn’t outweigh all the benefits I have from my cart. In the worst case, I can still convert it into a backpack, but thankfully that wasn’t necessary.

Diversion

Due to the difficult-to-navigate paths with my hiking cart, with a lot of large stones on either side of narrow trails, I’m diverting a little today. I take a stretch of gravel road instead of the hiking paths. I want to arrive at a sleeping spot before dark, and I don’t see many camping options.

Crowds on Saturday

When I arrive at a shelter/campsite, it’s busy. It’s Saturday, and that’s when the locals head out too. There are about ten tents – I’ve never seen that many before – and although there’s room for more, I decide to first check out another shelter, just 700 meters away. I expect that one to be crowded as well. But to my surprise, the shelter is indeed occupied, but there is no one else around.

Rainbow

As I pitch my tent, it begins to rain lightly. Just in time, I have all my belongings inside, and I see the sun coming out. Rain and sun… that can only mean one thing: a rainbow. And indeed, I walk to the water and there it is. I remain fascinated. Yet another beautiful gift!

Not impressed

Enthusiastically, I call out to the two hikers in the shelter: “A double rainbow!” “Nice,” they mumble, without even looking up from their phones. They don’t budge. Apparently, not everyone is so impressed by this phenomenon.

Overnight stay: Filkesjön