2024-06-28 00:42:04
For Midsommar this year, me, my girlfriend Rebecka and four of our friends stayed at the STF Grövelsjön mountain station. One of those friends, Wilda, was there to start her Green Ribbon – the same hiking adventure I went on last summer. Rebecka and another member of the gang joined Wilda for the first section of the hike, and I took the opportunity to go on a little hike of my own.
My route took me from Grövelsjön to Fjällnäs through Femundsmarka national park in Norway, which I’ve heard a lot of about but never visited. One of the things I’ve heard is that there’s great fishing in the park. I’ve had poor fishing luck so far this season, and figured if I can’t catch something during four days in Femundsmarka, I should probably hang up the rod for the season.
In hindsight, I should have opted for a shorter route (probably by staying further west, passing Røvollen and skipping the Skedbro cabin entirely), but I still had four lovely days in the mountains with great fishing.
You can find my pack list for the hike here, an approximate trail here, and more photos and videos on my Instagram.
After saying goodbye and good luck to Rebecka, Wilda and Malin in front of the blue door at Grövelsjön, I headed west up to the Norwegian fjäll on the Linné trail. It was sweaty work beneath the nearly cloudless sky, and more climbing would follow. I had my first coffee with a view over the greenish gray face of Grøthogna (1402m), which was my goal for the day.
I continued down to Sylen, the Norwegian settlement north of Grövelsjön, and said hi to people I recognized from the breakfast buffet who had taken M/S Sylöga across the lake and were hiking back. From Sylen, I followed the DNT signs up towards Svukuriset and lake Rønsjøen. It was a beautiful lunch spot, but I decided to try a few casts with the fishing rod before I got the water boiling. A few throws turned into a full hour when I got my first catch after just a few minutes.
At Rønsjøen, I left the trail heading north up into the cauldron next to Grøthogna, where I found a rock-free spot next to one of the unnamed lakes (1109). The lakes didn’t show any signs of life during the evening, but it seems wrong to complain when I got to end the day with the view over Grövelsjön, Långfjället and Rogen from the peak of Grøthogna. My plan for tomorrow: less hiking, more fishing.
I woke up at eight after eleven hours of sleep. It had rained during the night, and a thick fog had settled above the cauldron, hiding the peaks of Grøthogna, Sylfjellet and Rønsjøruten to the north, east and west. I think I like the fjäll best like this. When it’s a little bit grumpy.
As I descended the cauldron to the north, I had a stunning view over the wide-stretched rocky moor surrounding the triple peaked Stor-Svuku in the northwest. It was pretty, but also completely devoid of fishing lakes, so I took aim on the river Grøtåa on my right and followed it through birch and pine towards the lakes in the north. It was a wild and pretty landscape but also completely mosquito infested, so I headed back up above the tree line for lunch. From there, I had a clear view over the lakes where I hoped to find fish in the afternoon.
One of those lakes was Frysihjeltjønna (“Freeze to Death Lake”…?), and when I passed it a few hours later, there was lots of activity on the surface. Within a few minutes, I had a decently sized perch on the hook. 45 minutes later, I had pulled up five or six more. None of them huge, but all of them fit for the campfire on a hike with proper cooking. It was difficult to leave the perch-filled lake behind, but I wanted to cover some more distance before I made camp, so I continued on.
I found my campsite on a small peninsula by Litlbuddhåen an hour later. It was a lovely spot almost completely surrounded by the lake, but the fish were less cooperative than in Frysihjeltjønna, so I settled for a dip in the evening sun. That’ll teach them.
My campsite was only a few kilometers from the Swedish border, so I started the day by passing a yellow “Riksgrense SVERIGE” sign close to the Reva break cabins. There was a scattering of tents by the cabins, but the people they belong to were probably out in fishing boats. I continued to STF Skedbrostugan where I stopped for lunch. It was a detour, but it’s always cozy to stop by a cabin when it’s nearby. The cabin host season hasn’t started yet, so the cabin was empty.
From Skedbro, I followed the signs towards Røvollen which led me west over the shoulder of Skedbrofjället where I once again crossed the Swedish-Norwegian border. The views were spectacular in all directions. Just beyond Skedbrofjället, the trail took me to the Fautbua overnight cabin. A sign inside told me that the timber cabin was built in 1918 by Femundsmarka reinoppsynsman Jens Jensen Langen, to be used for gathering, fishing, and hunting. It also said he shot more than 87 moose during his life. Seems excessive.
It was a warm day, with few clouds to give shelter from the sun, so my feet appreciated the series of river crossings just before the trail reached the lake Nedre Muggsjøen. Nedre Muggsjøen tried to entice me with its sandy beaches and well-worn tent sites, but I wanted to get a bit further and continued on. (It seemed like a nice place for packrafting.) I made camp by Halvortjønna a few kilometers further south, which instead of sandy beaches offered a great view over the mountain Storviglen, which I’ll pass on my way to Fjällnäs tomorrow.
I was pretty tired by the time I made camp, but I figured I couldn’t go to sleep next to a lake without at least trying to reel in something. I’m glad I did. The trout wasn’t big enough for a frying pan, but with it, I’ve managed to catch something every day during the three days I bought a fishing permit for. Femundsmarka definitely lived up to its reputation on that front.
25 degrees celsius is too hot for any hike, but it was especially grueling during my climb up the mountain Storvigeln from Ljøsnåvollen. By the time I reached the 1340 meter mountain pass, 500 meters of elevation gain later, I was drenched in sweat. At least I could take my hard-earned break with a great view. Over Jämtlandsfjällen to the north, and Femundsmarka to the south. On my right, I had the Storvigeln peak another 200 meters of elevation above me. An adventure for another day.
Aside from the views from the Storvigeln pass, the last day was pretty unremarkable. I knew Rebecka was waiting for me in Fjällnäs, so I quickly made my way down to lake Bolagen and back into Sweden, up the Bolagskammen ridge, and then down through the birch forest to road 84 next to lake Malmagen where Rebecka met me. My salt stained sun hoodie got some side eyes when we stopped at Hamra Livs for some much needed ice cream.
Femundsmarka made a great first impression. I’ll have to drag Rebecka with me for a future visit – I’d like to spend some more time around Svukuriset and Stor-Svuku. But first, we have another Norwegian national park hike planned. We’re going to spend around a week in Jotunheimen in early August, with our shiba Taki along for the ride. Very excited for that.
The post Four Days in Femundsmarka National Park appeared first on Anders Norén.
2024-05-13 01:01:20
If you want to make a designer cry, tell him or her to redesign their website. I’ve made three attempts since I did my last redesign two years ago, and every time, I’ve procrastinated by releasing another free WordPress theme instead. I find that designing for others is a lot easier than designing for myself. I think I’m a bad client.
A silver lining is that I got a lot of free WordPress themes out of it. My most recent one, Pulitzer, served as the starting point for my fourth attempt, which you’re likely looking at now. Like Pulitzer, it’s a straight shooter with small font sizes and simple layouts, partly inspired by the new design that Rich Tabor is rocking on his blog. After running a theme with massive headings for two years, it’s a nice change of pace with text sizes that max out at 18px1. I like this trend.
Another thing that the new design has in common with Pulitzer is the Block Bindings API introduced in WordPress 6.5. The redesign uses it to output the download and demo links as well as the metadata on the theme pages, and being able to do all that with a tiny amount of code and no custom blocks is huge. In a way, I’m glad I waited with building a block theme for the site until 6.5 was out.
Here are some other changes in the redesign:
Between work, Pulitzer, Vermeer and the redesign, I’ve been pretty busy with WordPress stuff these past two months. With hiking season soon starting, a trip to Austria in early June, and me and Rebecka moving into a house of our own in Vemdalen this August, I’m looking forward to less time spent in front of screens for a while.
The post A new coat of paint appeared first on Anders Norén.
2024-05-07 21:39:14
I have a new free WordPress theme out today! It’s called Pulitzer, and it’s a minimal blog theme designed for writers. You can download it from WordPress.org, read more about its features here, or check out the demo.
If you follow me on Twitter, there’s a chance you’ve seen Pulitzer already. I usually don’t write about my themes until they’re live, but I decided to try something new this time. Rebecka was in Stockholm for the weekend, so I challenged myself to build Pulitzer before Monday rolled around, all the while live-tweeting my process for building block themes. If you find that sort of thing interesting, you can check out the Twitter thread here.
The TL;DR of the thread is that I submitted Pulitzer on Sunday afternoon that weekend. While getting it ready in time was my main goal, I also wanted to explore the Block Bindings API that was added in WordPress 6.5. If you haven’t heard about it, the Block Bindings API is a new way to include dynamic output in blocks. You can find a good introduction here.
Pulitzer includes three uses of the Block Binding API:
The kicker? Adding all of these took me no more than an hour, despite me never having used the API before. It’s shockingly intuitive if you’re used to block themes already, at least on the developer end. There’s still work to be done (and being done) on how this is presented to the user in the interface, but it’s undeniably going to lower the bar for building complex block themes. What previously required custom blocks written in JavaScript, or PHP based workarounds with third-party plugins like Advanced Custom Fields, can now be done with a tiny bit of HTML block markup and good ol’ PHP. I love it.
It also raises the question about what is and isn’t theme territory (again). If a user switches theme from Pulitzer to something else, their typography and color settings will (theoretically) come with them, but they can’t bring along the Pulitzer reading time indicator without digging into the theme code. That was business as usual back in the classic theme days, but block themes have started to move towards a complete separation between design and functionality. Adding the reading indicator to Pulitzer knowing the feature is locked to the theme felt like I was doing something illegal. I’m glad it’s allowed on the theme directory, but I hope it doesn’t end up being abused.
Anyway. Pulitzer is out now! I hope you like it. I have been tinkering with another theme design, but it will probably be a while before I get around to building it. And I definitely won’t do it over a weekend.
The post Introducing Pulitzer appeared first on Anders Norén.
2024-02-23 03:12:11
Since me and Rebecka moved to the Swedish mountains in September, we’ve been lucky to see the northern lights dancing on the night sky a couple of times. It’s a marvelous spectacle. Even though the camera software in iOS is pretty aggressive about exaggerating the intensity of the green rays and spirals, the photographs can’t capture the feeling of standing beneath a black sky illuminated by light particles colliding in the upper atmosphere.
Neither can a WordPress theme, but that didn’t stop me from trying. My 30th free theme on the WordPress.org theme directory is called Norrsken – the Swedish word for the northern lights. A more literal translation would be the northern shine, and doesn’t that sound a lot more poetic? Maybe it’s because I’m a Stephen King fan.
You can read more about the features in Norrsken here, and download it for free from WordPress.org.
Norrsken is a simple blog theme with white text on a black background and colorful gradient accents inspired by the colors in the northern lights. If you prefer your blog to have a black text on a white background, there’s an inverted style variation in there as well. The monospace typeface used throughout Norrsken – Geist Mono – contributes to its stark style, while also being highly readable. Geist Mono is loaded as a variable font consisting of a single 53 kilobyte file. Combine that with the small amounts of conditionally loaded CSS and the complete lack of JavaScript, and you get a very fast theme. To be fair, it’s become pretty difficult to make a slow block theme.
The most interesting thing about Norrsken is probably not any of the features in the theme, but rather how fast it was to build. I started building it by forking Twenty Twenty-Four on Friday, February 2. I worked on it a little bit that Saturday and Sunday, and didn’t touch it at all on Monday. The next day, Tuesday, it was ready to be submitted to the directory. In total, I probably spent eight to twelve hours on development. You can track the transformation from Twenty Twenty-Four to Norrsken in the GitHub commit history, if you’re into that sort of thing.
It’s heartening to see how much the experience of creating block themes has improved between every one of these I’ve released. Kudos to all of the people who put in hard work in the Gutenberg repository to keep that momentum going.
The post Introducing Norrsken appeared first on Anders Norén.
2023-11-29 19:05:55
This is the diary from my 2023 Green Ribbon hike through the Swedish mountain chain. For an introduction to the hike, see part 1.
Finally! After a month and a half apart, me and Rebecka were reunited at the train station by Abisko Turiststation. I’m very excited that we’re going to finish this hike together, but first, we’re doing a little side quest. This is Rebecka’s first time in Abisko, so we’re doing a three day Abisko tour that’ll take us to Abiskojaure, Kårsavagge, Låktatjokko, Njulla, and then back to Abisko. After that, we’ll continue north on Nordkalottleden to complete my Green Ribbon at the Three-Country Cairn.
Once we’d spent some time repackaging food and throwing my old shoes in a dumpster, we set out on the King’s Trail. The highway of the fjäll was busy with excited hikers who had just arrived with the train. It was nice to leave it at the STF Abiskojaure cabins, from where we took the trail to Kårsavagge which is a tranquil country road in comparison. A pretty steep one, though. The trail climbs 650 meters from the Abiskojaure lake to the top of the ridge of the mountain Boazocohkka. We hoped to find a tent spot about 150 meters below the top.
We started to get some impressive views over the mountains Gardenvarri and Giron across the valley as we got above the tree line, but the views soon disappeared behind large rain clouds moving in from the south. We got our tent up just north of the park limit, at 1 000 meters of elevation, before the rain caught up with us. When it cleared up, we could admire the southern end of Abisko national park 500 meters below us.
It was my birthday today! I can’t think of a better present than getting to wake up in a tent next to Rebecka, with a stunning breakfast view over Abisko national park. The day started in beautiful weather as we climbed the ridge of Boazocohkka, from where we had fantastic views into the Kårsavagge valley. To the east, we could see the far shore of lake Torneträsk, 30 km away. Little did we know that later in the day, our visibility would shrink from 30 km to 15 meters.
To reach the Kårsavagge cabins from Abiskojaure, you have to do a 40 meter wide river crossing right next to the cabins. The water was shallow, but very cold. After, we took a coffee break in the sun while we chatted with the cabin host. Then the climbing continued. We took the easternmost path from Kårsavagge to Låktatjåkko, and it was steep and pretty in equal amounts until it evened out by the lake Latnjajavri, where the trail took us past a research station focused on arctic flora. For the final kilometers to Låktatjåkko, I thought we could save some time by approaching the mountain station more directly off-trail. We did not. Especially not when the fog rolled in. When we reached the station, the building materialized out of thin air when we were a stones throw away.
Låktatjåkko is the highest mountain station in Sweden at 1 228 meters and famous for their waffles, so of course we had some. It’s also the highest bar in Sweden, so of course I had a beer with mine. Having a table by the window didn’t count for much on this visit, but the waffles were delicious. When we left Låktatjåkko, we followed the trail to Måndalen in tricky terrain and massive snow fields that gave us a bit of trouble in the dense fog. It wasn’t until we descended to the Kåppatjåkka break cabin that we left the fog behind. After another hour of blissfully simple hiking, we pitched our tent next to the river Gohpasjohka, not far from Njulla. When we were in our sleeping bags, Rebecka asked me to look away for a bit. Ten minutes later, she presented my birthday dessert: chocolate and vanilla pudding with oatmeal thins and dried raspberries. She’s the best. I love you, Rebecka.
Me and Rebecka started the day by setting our sights on Njulla – a 1169 meter tall mountain right next to Abisko national park and the lake Torneträsk. We followed the river Gohpasjohka down into the valley, forded it and climbed to the summer trail that leads to Njulla from Björkliden. The trail was easy to follow to the pass between Njulla and Skåttatjåkka, and from the pass, we followed the ridge upp to the peak. The view was a little bit limited due to fog, but when we started to descend to Abisko, we got a great look at the U-shaped valley Lapporten.
Our return to Abisko Turiststation marked the end of our little side quest in Abisko. After we picked up the food we’d left in the baggage room, we left the mountain station to start the final section of my Green Ribbon: Abisko to Treriksröset! 160 kilometers on Nordkalottleden, which we think will take us five to six days. The first stretch between Abisko and Björkliden was neither pretty nor interesting, but the trail – Rallarleden – got a lot better from there. It’s named after the navvy (“rallare”) that built the railroad between Kiruna and Narvik 1898-1902, and follows the maintenance road used during its construction. It passes the navvy graveyard, where 50 workers were buried. The dedication on the commemorative monument states “In memory of those who remained”.
We put up camp a kilometer north of the European road E10, not far from the Pålno cabin. We’ve had good views of Lapporten on and off throughout the day, but we didn’t mind having one more from our tent spot.
Breakfast outside with a view over Torneträsk and Lapporten equals a pretty good way start the day. The next ten kilometers took us through dense birch forest, which Rebecka asked me to describe as “the worst type of fjäll flora”. After seven of those kilometers, we reached the unmanned overnight STF cabin Pålno. After another two, we reached the border, and entered both Norway and the Rohkunborri national park. After a final, very steep kilometer in birch forest, we arrived at our first DNT cabin: Lappjordhytta. It was exciting to finally get to use the DNT cabin key, but we only stopped for a short coffee break, and we had it outside in the sun. This marks our second day of views over Lapporten. I didn’t think it was possible to tire of it, but we’re looking forward to seeing new mountains.
Swedes have a lot of preconceptions about hiking in Norway. Two of them are that Norwegian mountains are more dramatic, and that Norwegian trails are a lot steeper. Both were confirmed immediately after we crossed the border. From the cabin, the trail climbed 400 meters up to the moor, and in the clear weather, we could see the entire lineup of mountain tops across Torneträsk, from Lapporten to Vassecohkka near Riksgränsen. The Norwegian side was no less dramatic. In Riksovaggi, you could easily imagine wooly mammoths walking beneath the glacier covered mountains. It was beautiful, but the elevation gain combined with sunny weather and heavy food bags made for a strenuous first day of hiking in Norway. At least we get to start tomorrow with 13 kilometers downhill.
Just as we entered the Lairevaggi pass where we pitched our tent, we lost sight of Lapporten. It’s all new views from here.
Thanks to all the climbing we did yesterday, we could start today with a 16 km stretch that was almost all downhill. Those kilometers took us from the top of the Lairrevaggi pass down into the beautiful Salvasskardet valley, which we followed down to the western shore of one of Norways largest lakes, Altevatnet, and the DNT overnight cabin Altevasshytta. We had missed that you need a code to get in to this specific cabin, and we were both very keen on using the outhouse, so we paid 200 NOK for our bathroom break. Worth it.
The forecast called for rain today, and as we started to follow the western shore of Altevattnet, the rain came. One moment, I pointed to the lake and told Rebecka that it looked like the Norrlands Guld beer label, with mountains on both sides. Five minutes later, those mountains had disappeared behind the rain, which followed us all the way to the Gaskashytta cabin. There, we talked to a couple hiking the Nordkalottleden trail south. They were going to follow it to Abisko, but decided to make Björkliden their final stop after they heard about the stomach bug going around near Kebnekaise. We’re grateful we didn’t catch it when we were in the area just a few days ago.
We found our tent spot a few kilometers into the Gaskkasvaggi valley. It’s been a long day, but not a very interesting one. That should change tomorrow, when we enter Øvre Dividal national park.
The day started with a climb up to the Jierdni pass. The going was easier than we had expected, with a gentle angle on a clear trail, and both me and Rebecka felt fresh and motivated. On the other side of that pass, we would enter Øvre Dividal national park, which we’ve only heard good things about. Unfortunately, early in the climb, our old friend pea soup showed up. The map told us of impressive peaks on both sides of the trail, but we only caught fleeting glimpses of them on our way to the Vuomahytta cabin, where we stopped for lunch. We’ve heard a lot of praise for the DNT cabins, and this is the first one we’ve been to that has lived up to that reputation. We even got a look at the view, since the fog cleared just as we were about to leave.
We spent the afternoon going downhill in the birch forests of the Anjavassvaggi valley. On our left, we had the river Anjevasselva. On our right, the mountain Blåfjellet, which we appreciated for two reasons: One, because it is magnificent. Two, because it blocked the sun, which we did better without in the 23 degree temperature. We had our sights set on a tent spot just before Anjevasselva joins Divielva in the heart of the national park. When we got there, we realized that the former is burrowed into a deep canyon which made it difficult to get water. We decided to continue towards the recommended fording place over Divielva, but we couldn’t find a tent spot in the steep terrain. We ended up fording the river at half past eight. At least it was an easy ford.
Our tent spot was waiting for us a little bit uphill from Divielva, squeezed in among a stand of pine trees. It almost felt like camping back home, with one big difference: Divielva is a lot colder to wash yourself in than the lakes around Stockholm.
From our camp spot by the Divielva river, we had a 500 meter climb up to the moor in the morning. The first 100 meters took us through the most beautiful pine forest either me or Rebecka has ever seen, which is not something I expected on the final stretch of my Green Ribbon. The next 100 meters took us to the Dividalshytta DNT cabin, where we stopped and chatted with some of the guests heading south. The final, steep 300 meter climb took us all the way up. Maybe it was the chat break at the cabin, or the lighter food pods, but the climb wasn’t as bad as we feared.
When we neared the pass Jierttasalbmi, I told Rebecka “I think we’ll get some decent views from up here”. It was the understatement of the hike. From our perch, we had panoramic, 35 kilometer views over a landscape of green moor, rivers, small lakes and black mountains that seemed to go on forever. It was unreal. Apologies to Skäckerfjällen, Vindelfjällen, Padjelanta and Abisko, but Øvre Dividal national park has the most beautiful nature I’ve seen on my Green Ribbon.
On the way to the Daertahytta cabin, we met @thehikingswedes – a family of four who are hiking the Green Ribbon together. We shared fantasies about hamburgers and showers before we continued to the cabin. Me and Rebecka decided to only stop for a short break, and then continued for another few kilometers. They took us out of the national park and up to the highest point of this section of the Nordkalottleden trail: a rocky moon landscape at 1033 meters of elevation. Phone reception courtesy of Finnish cell towers told us that we’re getting close to the goal line.
As we descended on the other side to find our camp spot, the sun started to set, turning the horizon orange and the clouds pink. As summarized by Rebecka, the entire day was “like being punched in the face by nature”. In the best way.
During our brief window of phone reception the previous night, the forecast told us to expect rain in the afternoon, and lots of it. Because of that, we were especially grateful that we could have our breakfast outside. We made good time to the Rostahytta cabin, but not quite good enough to outrun the rain. We had lunch indoors as we watched it grow in intensity through the window. Rostahytta was the last Norwegian cabin on our hike, and as if to mark the occasion, a family staying in the cabin offered us some of their frying pan cinnamon rolls.
When we left, our rain gear preparedness was at “underwear and rain pants only” levels. It wasn’t so bad at first. For the first 6 km, we were mostly spared the rain but were instead surrounded by thick fog. Then, suddenly, we walked out of the fog into clear weather and a strangely warm wind. When we looked back, the fog looked like a wall. Soon later, the rain came in earnest. You walk quickly on moor in the pouring rain, and before we knew it, we reached a little sign telling us that we were back in Sweden. Another sign said that we had 5 km left to the STF Pältsa cabin, which was a lie. Nothing takes longer than hiking seven kilometers when you were expecting five.
When we finally did arrive at the Pältsa cabin, we were wet from hours of rain and tired after 20 kilometers of nonstop hiking from Rostahytta. The thought of spending the night indoors helped to keep us motivated. Pältsa is the northernmost STF cabin in Sweden, and it’s a lot easier to access from both Norway and Finland. It was odd to be in a STF cabin where everyone spoke Finnish to each other.
From here, it’s only another 13 kilometers to Treriksröset and the end of this very, very long hike. It’s almost done. The reality of it hit home when we sat down to figure out how to make it back to Stockholm from this remote corner of our very large country. That’ll be an adventure in itself.
I did it! After 1 674 kilometers, 1.9 million steps and one somewhat respectable mustache, I put my hand on Treriksröset and completed the Green Ribbon that I started in Grövelsjön close to two months ago. It’s been a strange, wonderful and absolutely unforgettable way to spend a summer. I’ve seen more of Sweden than I ever thought I would, and along the way, I’ve met a ton of interesting people. Thanks to all of you for making a solo hike feel less lonesome. I’m grateful that I was able to give this odd undertaking a shot, and so happy that my body allowed me to go all the way.
I’m also grateful for Rebecka, who not only tolerated me spending most of this summer on the trail, but came with me to the ends of the earth to be there when I completed it. She even carried a secret champagne bottle in her backpack, up and down Norwegian mountains, for six days. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.
Rebecka told me that I had to do one of my overly detailed step by step walkthroughs (my words, not hers) of the final day as well. After the champagne, I wasn’t exactly in a position to argue. Here it goes:
After our night at the Pältsa cabin, we climbed the Duoibal mountains to the north and had eight kilometers of easy hiking on tundra before we descended low enough to catch sight of the yellow concrete border cairn in the lake Golddajavri. Just before we reached it, we crossed the border to Finland. When we’d done our photo shoot and had champagne, we followed the trail towards the town Kilpisjärvi through Mallan national park. It was pretty, with a steep climb to the tundra rewarded by Finlands highest waterfall and views over lake Kilpisjärvi, but we were both too tired to care about anything but a shower and a soft bed at that point. We got both when we arrived at our hostel around five. Tomorrow, we’ll take the bus to Tromsø where we’ll stay another night before we fly home to Stockholm.
Thank you for following along on my summer adventure in the Swedish mountains! Check out Vita Gröna Bandet if you want to learn more about the Green Ribbon, or maybe give it a go yourself. It’ll be a summer you won’t forget.
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The post Hiking the Green Ribbon: Part 5 appeared first on Anders Norén.
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