Hauling the sizeable load of duffles, camera backpacks, skis and pulks through airports, train stations and bus stops.

Day 1 is always difficult, fresh but unaccustomed legs and the pulks at their heaviest. However, 3 hours of sustained climbing in the softest of snow (with more of it constantly falling) made for a tough start.

Picking the route down through the trees to reach the Sitojaure hut.

The next morning was mercifully clear of fresh snowfall. After crossing the lake, a long climb took us up onto the plateau above our final hut before heading into Sarek.

Arriving at Aktse hut, we diligently stocked up on wood and water and enjoyed the views across the valley.

Surveying the Rapadalen valley, our home for the next three days as we followed it North into the heart of Sarek.

A day of heavy snow, resulting in slow progress and some tricky navigation through the dozens of offshoots, tributaries and small lakes. The emergency shelter made an appearance (not for the last time) to give us a bit of protection over lunch.

"Warning - forecast strong wind peaking around 1600 until midnight. NW around 55 knots. Falling trees, avalanches."

"The forecast's showing 70 knots exactly where you are, wind change will be v.rapid. No warning. Zero to hurricane in an hour. Be prepared! Believe me, you are in the spot of the strongest wind in all of Scandinavia"

Two of the messages received on our Garmin InReach from Dom, our friend providing us with weather updates and support. Not exactly what you want to hear...

We had planned to stop early, at an old weather station building, in order to dig down and secure the tent. These updates reinforced the need to do so: 70 knots / 130 kph / 36 metres per second is hurricane force (shown on the map below as the two larger blue blobs - our route had us neatly sandwiched between them over the next two days). The old weather station kept the worst of the wind off us that night, along with the nearly 2 metre high wall of snow we built up around the back of the tent.

The tent comfortably survived the night and conditions cleared somewhat the next day (at least the wind disappeared) allowing us some more visibility and the chance to rest and have some lunch out in the open.

A particularly frosty start but the wind died down enough to have the pleasure of setting up the stove outside rather than in the porch (it's always a relief when fire can be moved away from the tent).

This was the first time that the wind really hit us during the day. By now we were considerably higher up the Rapadalen valley, open and exposed in the valleys, the wind funnelled down to us from the North.

Footprints, but inverted?

Footprints (most likely left by a fox) result in compacted snow which sticks together, the looser snow around them gets blasted away by the wind and so what's left is a raised "block" of a footprint a few centimetres high.

The wind ripping snow off the mountainsides.

Leaving the Rapdalen to start climbing up to the plateau under Sarektjåkkå.

Another forecast for gale-force winds overnight, this time from the South West. We found a snow drift offering some protection, then dug down as far as we could and anchored ourselves neatly between two trees.

The wind continues.

A short day, but into a headwind and uphill the entire time. This one was a struggle. Communication was down to gestures and the occasional(ly heard) shouted words through face-masks caked in ice.

We chose to head for a small cabin (an emergency shelter, with telephone and a table with benches - quite a luxury to be able to sit up with some back support!). A welcome break from the wind, particularly since pitching the tent in these conditions would have been a challenge (and we had passed a group of German skiers hunkered down for two days, their tents almost flattened by the wind; an experience we weren't keen on replicating).

Sarektjåkkå, the second-highest mountain in Sweden (left-most peak). Spot the skier (centre bottom) for scale.

The emergency shelter's "toilet" door had been ripped off in the wind, leaving it a little exposed to the elements. We mostly stayed inside with the stove fired up, working our way through freeze-dried meals.

Weak Aurora activity, only faintly visible to the naked eye, but a handful of photos was a least a very welcome reward for getting little sleep and some frost-nipped fingers.

The morning's wind was particularly unpleasant - the strongest we had experienced during the daytime. Rock-hard sastrugi (snow ridges) made skiing difficult and gusts of wind knocked us over on a number of occasions.

Nijak, now completely shrouded in cloud.

The final river crossing, towards the Ahkka hut (our exit point from Sarek), was a little hairy - large portions of the river both upstream and downstream had opened up so we made our way across cautiously - pulks unclipped and dragged by hand in case we had to ditch them in the event of a snow bridge giving way. Falling and getting pulled into the river under the snow and ice was clearly not an option.

Finally, some solid walls - shelter out of the wind!

We had a day in hand before the bus back out, so spent it being helpful around the hut where we could; replacing 100kg gas canisters, chopping wood and fetching water.

Prepping the sauna to warm ourselves through and defrost the extremities, then packing up the snowmobile the next morning to transfer across the lake to Ritsem.

Ever-changing weather; the same view (from Ritsem STF), ten minutes apart.