Day 4 Serve stuga, 14 km
I told myself: Do not let that horrible lady into my head. Yet, last night when I went to bed, I was obsessed.
Before I left, folks wished me well, but also told me be safe. Hmmm. Some of my workmates did summer school abroad. We all bade them good luck, fall in love, have fun! When I go, it's don't die.
When the warden said I couldn't go over the mountain it threw me into all kinds of self-doubt. This has occurred on other trips, notably when I biked from Amsterdam to Norway. As I was going up on the Lysevegen, I met a German couple loaded down on touring bikes. The woman, whom I just met, told me I'd never make it. I was confused; they were way overloaded and they did it. No, they'd taken a shuttle. Anyway, I carried on despite their negativity–and had the best down hill, switch-back experience of my life.
So today was about redemption.
I got up early and packed, ate breakfast and left at around 8:20. One guide said 15 km, some said 14. The longest is said to be 19, 20 km– that's the one she told me I'd need to book ahead the boat. Today would be a kind of test, since I haven't been paying much attention to time and km.
I hiked for 2 hours without stopping (except to pee, which is basically all the time). Then I hiked for another hour and a half. At 12 I stopped by a metal bridge for lunch and, of course, pee. I'd been walking for almost 4 hours and was over half way through. I'd taken pictures of the Kungsleden map with my phone and double checked my route. From the bridge I just needed to go up, then down to hut. I figured I'd get there by 3. I was there by 2.
This warden is much more affirming. She welcomed me and said, You are a strong woman. I asked her about tomorrow and she said, yes, it's long, but you should be fine. I was so relieved.
Since being here, I've relaxed, explored a little, drank lingonberry juice, and put out my Luminade. I noticed last night that I'm down to 2 bars. I just checked it after it's been outside for 2 hours in on-and-off again sun. Still 2 bars. I'll charge tonight, turn off the phone, and hope it can hang in there until Monday when I meet the bus.
Tomorrow's weather is supposed to be the same as today: partly overcast, starting with thick clouds, with breaks after lunch. Perfect for climbing.
One more thing about the last hut and the horrible woman. She said after the sonic sauna that soon they'd turn on the drying room. If I had things I wanted dried, make sure they were not too close to the heat. I took note, but kept my things near the heat overnight. This a.m. my wool socks were still wet as well as my quick dry underwear. I reckoned they hadn't turned it on after all. The team of trail runners who arrived around dinner time, their stuff was also still wet. I asked her as I made breakfast about the drying room. She said: This isn't a condominium.
I was shocked by her response.
She continued, Sorry we have a poor drying room.
She wasn't sorry, she meant it as a jibe, as if I expected perfection. As if I were some kind of princess.
I was only so ready to be done with her attitude. Afterwards, I laced up my shoes and left, with my damp stuff.
Tomorrow the LAST full day of hiking, 20 km with big ups.
Before I left, folks wished me well, but also told me be safe. Hmmm. Some of my workmates did summer school abroad. We all bade them good luck, fall in love, have fun! When I go, it's don't die.
When the warden said I couldn't go over the mountain it threw me into all kinds of self-doubt. This has occurred on other trips, notably when I biked from Amsterdam to Norway. As I was going up on the Lysevegen, I met a German couple loaded down on touring bikes. The woman, whom I just met, told me I'd never make it. I was confused; they were way overloaded and they did it. No, they'd taken a shuttle. Anyway, I carried on despite their negativity–and had the best down hill, switch-back experience of my life.
So today was about redemption.
I got up early and packed, ate breakfast and left at around 8:20. One guide said 15 km, some said 14. The longest is said to be 19, 20 km– that's the one she told me I'd need to book ahead the boat. Today would be a kind of test, since I haven't been paying much attention to time and km.
I hiked for 2 hours without stopping (except to pee, which is basically all the time). Then I hiked for another hour and a half. At 12 I stopped by a metal bridge for lunch and, of course, pee. I'd been walking for almost 4 hours and was over half way through. I'd taken pictures of the Kungsleden map with my phone and double checked my route. From the bridge I just needed to go up, then down to hut. I figured I'd get there by 3. I was there by 2.
This warden is much more affirming. She welcomed me and said, You are a strong woman. I asked her about tomorrow and she said, yes, it's long, but you should be fine. I was so relieved.
Since being here, I've relaxed, explored a little, drank lingonberry juice, and put out my Luminade. I noticed last night that I'm down to 2 bars. I just checked it after it's been outside for 2 hours in on-and-off again sun. Still 2 bars. I'll charge tonight, turn off the phone, and hope it can hang in there until Monday when I meet the bus.
Tomorrow's weather is supposed to be the same as today: partly overcast, starting with thick clouds, with breaks after lunch. Perfect for climbing.
One more thing about the last hut and the horrible woman. She said after the sonic sauna that soon they'd turn on the drying room. If I had things I wanted dried, make sure they were not too close to the heat. I took note, but kept my things near the heat overnight. This a.m. my wool socks were still wet as well as my quick dry underwear. I reckoned they hadn't turned it on after all. The team of trail runners who arrived around dinner time, their stuff was also still wet. I asked her as I made breakfast about the drying room. She said: This isn't a condominium.
I was shocked by her response.
She continued, Sorry we have a poor drying room.
She wasn't sorry, she meant it as a jibe, as if I expected perfection. As if I were some kind of princess.
I was only so ready to be done with her attitude. Afterwards, I laced up my shoes and left, with my damp stuff.
Tomorrow the LAST full day of hiking, 20 km with big ups.
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