Arctic Circle Trail Challenge: Friday 23rd August

Hike Day 9

The valley floor with plenty of boggy bits.

Our last evening on the trail. Mixed emotions really. Quite excited about getting into Sisimiut and looking forward to seeing my wife again, but the experience on this trail has been fantastic. The serenity or the wilderness and the absence of the daily grind of modernity is most definitely good for the soul.

We slept on the little hut last night. The guidebook was pretty accurate when it refers to how the temperature drops once the sun drops below the surrounding mountains.

Mountain melt water running over the rocks

The temperature drops so quickly here once the sun goes behind something. During the evening a German couple turned up and pitched their tent outside the hut.

We awoke this morning at about 6am, had breakfast and hit the trail by 7.30am. The route this morning was pretty easy as it followed the bottom of the valley until the very end. Whilst following the valley floor was easy on the leg muscles, we paid for it in other ways - namely bogs and bugs which we encountered in high numbers today. We also forded two rivers today which unlike previous fording were incredibly cold. You walk and you walk and al the time your legs feel nice and warm so than when you come to a fording you don't always immediately notice how cold the water is until you are half way across, at which point my feet felt as though a thousand pins were being driven into the bones. It was painfully cold.

One of the river crossings

The day was really enjoyable even with the flies and bogs. However, I did start to experience some more pain and discomfort in my heel and at the ball of my feet towards the end of today's hiking. This tended to slow me down quite a lot as I needed to minimise the impact to the base of my feet. My walking buddy, Richard suffered no such pain and was able to stride ahead and wait for me periodically. There were a couple of occasions when I felt as though he was marching off too far to have been any use if anything had gone wrong, but we are bot pretty strong individual characters so I'm sure we would have coped.

The snow capped mountains are never far away.

We arrived at the small hut at the head of the fjord (Kangerluarsuk Tulleq) in the early afternoon. There is a choice of two huts at the fjord head. One is just above the shoreline close to the high tide mark whilst the other is a bit further on and higher up the hillside. The lower of the two huts seems to have developed a bit of a reputation for not being particularly well looked after by the locals. According some other hikers we spoke to, the place seems to be frequented by fishermen and youngsters from Sisimiut. As such there is regularly an overpowering smell of rotting fish and a collection of discarded beer bottles. Armed with this information, we chose to avoid the smelly hut and hiked further up the hill side to the higher of the two huts. This did not disappoint. It provided fantastic views almost along the entire length of the fjord. The only downside of the higher hut is that the gulley directly behind the hut was dry so we had to walk a little bit further to collect our water. Not much of a hardship.

The view from the higher hut looking down towards the head of the fjord and the other hut.

Earlier on today, we came across this amazing Canadian lady. She said she was from the Canadian west coast but her accent suggested that she was originally from northern Europe. She looked as though she was in her fifties or early sixties with leathery wrinkled skin and greying hair tied back in a pony tail. Our brief conversation didn't start well as her accent confused us for a few moments. We spoke simultaneously asking the same question "where are you from?" We answered "British" and she answered "Canada?" but with an upturned intonation which made us think she had misheard us and was, in fact, erroneously confirming that we were Canadian. "No" we said slowly in that way only British people do when talking to foreigners, "we're British". "No" she replied in a way which suggested that she had already decided that we were idiots, "I'm from Canada". We spoke briefly about our experiences of Canada which, luckily, had all been very positive for Canada is an amazing country and Canadians, as a rule, are welcoming and friendly. "You come from Kanagerlussuaq?" she asked. "Yes" we replied. "How long have you been walking?" she enquired. We told her that this was our ninth day of hiking but that we had had a rest day at the big cabin by the lake. Her response took us by surprise, "oh I stayed there last week on the way to Sisimiut because of heavy snow fall". Richard and I looked at each other. "So, you've already done this and now you're walking back?!" I enquired. "yes" she said. "It took me ten days and I gave myself a day and a half in Sisimiut and now I have to get back to Kangerlussuaq in eight days to catch my flight". "F**k me" I thought. This lady is simply built for the trail. "At least I know what to expect around every corner" she said. "We we had better let you get on your way" we said and we stood off the path to one side to let her pass. It was as if we were novice monks stepping off the path to allow a grand master to pass. People like her are an inspiration. They haven't allowed anyone to steer their life for them. Ok she might not be the sort of person who makes friends easily or has a close family, but she has chosen her way in life and she's not answerable to anyone but herself. Good for her, I say.

The fjord to the right and the higher hut in the distance.

The higher hut perched on a rock.

We arrived at the higher hut at about 2.30pm. I couldn't wait to get my boots off and my crocs on. My feet ached so much they just yearned to be surrounded by cooling air.

Higher hut

Richard and I went for water at about 4 pm only to find that the gulley behind the hut was bone dry.

Luckily, the next gulley along was flowing with crystal clear icy cold water. We filled up with water and walked back to the hut.

Sleeping platform inside the higher hut.

The cooking area in the higher hut.

View across the fjord towards snow capped mountains.

Tomorrow is a potentially daunting day. It's a relatively long day (20km) and starts with a steepish climb. We had also heard some pretty negative comments about the camp site on the outskirts of Sisimiut, so our accommodation options may be limited when we get there. The weather will play a big part in our decision too. Our own forecast is not favourable. The wind is now coming from the sea which bring cold and wet weather with it which is likely to turn to snow once it hits the hills. There is a youth hostel in Sisimiut which is meant to be quite nice and, by UK standards, not too expensive (approximately £24. per person per night).

Whilst it is quite sad to be almost at the end of such an amazing trail, we are both beginning to tire of our dehydrated trail food. After a few days, I had noticed that the trail food was all beginning to look and taste the same. We were both beginning to crave fresh salad and fruit and of course a cold beer. I actually fantasised about a glass of milk this morning - I must be getting old.

The higher hut and the gulleys beyond.

Later in the evening we were joined by three Czechs (2 boys and 1 girl) who were walking the route from Sisimiut to Kangerlussuaq. They didn't look particularly well equipped and instead looked like conscripts. Unfortunately, one of them had gone over on their ankle on the first day of their hike. We advised them to soak the ankle in cold water from the stream to see if this would reduce the swelling. They said that they would see how it was tomorrow morning. Richard and I agreed that they would be foolish to try and carry on with such an injury. We were both conscious that we could get involved in a protracted rescue mission tomorrow but that we would need to be careful not to jeopardise our own objectives. The Czech group pitched their tent and came into the hut to cook their food. They made a stew out of rice and some sausage looking thing and some other meat which looked like chicken but could have just as easily been seal meat. It all looked as though it had been prepared by some headscarf wearing Czech grandmother in a tiny Czech village.

The hut and the fjord in the distance.

Richard and I played cards while the stew was consumed. We also spoke in deliberate metaphors about our growing urges to break wind. "The micro brewery is working overtime at the moment" I said to which Richard relied "I feel as though the Champaign is about ready to cork". Ok so, it childish and basic humour, but it made us giggle.

Sun beginning to set.

Before turning in, I paid a visit to the loo which was an area of brush behind the hut. The sun was setting almost as much as does at this time of year, but the light was absolutely beautiful. The mountains which only a few hour before looked stark, cold and forbidding were now bathed in a warm golden glow. I hope you like the pictures.