I had a nice talk with the polish guy – his actual name was Karol – and his daily routine was quite an eye-opener. So Karol would wake up at about 4:00 in the morning (he would stay at the huts only), shortly afterwards he would start on the trail and walk briskly almost without pause, reaching the next hut by late morning – whereas I was dragging myself there around 19:00.
THATS SO CRAZY, I thought, may be he is weight-saving genius, or has some really sophisticated gear? He has a tiny foldable scooter? He can fly? I was trying to find an explanation. ANY EXPLANATION.
Nope.. similar equipment as myself, no scooter 😀 I think he also had more supplies to carry too.
I made a mental note to myself to train harder. And whine less.
…
The day started pleasantly. I ate breakfast in the hut and departed around 08:00 in the cool morning air, the early sun finding its way through thick, gray clouds.
For the first time, I enjoyed walking.
I remembered what Karol told me about other people on the trail that were walking semi-synchronously with us – some were half-a-day ahead, some were not far behind – where they go, what gear they have, where they stop and all kind of trivia regarding the route ahead and beyond. Interesting? You bet!
Was it the environment, or the absence of communication otherwise, but I was happy to meet anyone either from opposite direction (only 4 people during the whole course) or at the huts. It seemed it belonged to some unwritten but strictly followed code to stop, introduce oneself and engage in a mutually pleasant conversation about the trivialities outlined above. Were there mosquitoes? And did they bite? Oh, that’s the creme you used? Sure, Id like to try!
It was very endearing.
So that was the party that moved roughly in the same batch over the course:
- The polish guy
- A French couple – reticent, but with quick, elegant pace
- Three strong Swedish guys – the empty 1L whiskey glass bottle converted to a flower vase at the hut was theirs
- One Norwegian lady – at first I heard rumors from the polish guy about one female traveler who would reach the hut, and first thing CLEAN it 😀 Then the same from Swedish guys. These stories were told with warmest regards and kindest feelings to her service. And the best – indeed, she existed!
- Two German ladies that found each other over reisepartner-gesucht.de for this trek, something that I failed to do (but I didn’t know about reisepartner-gesucht.de)
- and myself
All went with different speeds and different schedules. Of all, I probably was the one who got up latest, and ended up latest as well – so most of the days I passed by either the polish guy or the french couple as they were setting up camp and we’ve never failed to exchanged the latest news and events of the day.
…
The path became more varied and about an hour a majestic perspective on the broad river valley opened from above.
WELCOME, – that were mosquitoes.
Mosquitoes
The ongoing drought made the valley just about as dry as it gets. A lot of grass patches were dust-dry. Circular, dried out lake beds with moist mud patches instead of water.
Despite the dryness, the mosquitoes appeared out of nowhere and followed me diligently through most of the valley. Their behavior was weird: they followed mostly the face and were more of a nuisance than a biting force. They ignored open legs and arms and were mostly trying to get in the eyes and ears.
Anyways, the mosquito net was very effective against them.
In retrospect, this patch of the trail was the only one where I needed the mosquito net at all. Some people just went straight through without the net.
This experience must be specific to this very, very dry period with no rainfall for a month or so, that happened in July and August 2019. If its wet, it should be horrible: the river valley turns in one massive swamp, mosquitoes bite viciously, and you walk a lot in water.
This time I just walked over on a dry, sometimes moist, and in very few cases ankle-deep surface.
After a few hours walking along the river the path turned to the right and an majestic panorama opened.
This is, by the way, is where Mayaq was about to be picked up by the boat from Sisimiut, I figured.
I was waiting for this my whole life: finally there it is, a word that doesn’t have a “U” after the “Q”. The hut was based right there after the turn.
At the hut I met the polish guy (I can just reuse this sentence), I was quite happy to see him.
He went on to stay there for the night, but I continued after a pause for the lunch.
Despite prior warnings, this hut did have access to fresh water. The canyon nearby being completely dry, about 200 or 300 meters further down there was a tiny stream of clear, cold water.
DONT FOLLOW THE BULLDOZED TRACKS TO THE RIGHT, – with this advice from the polish guy we parted.
Of course I didn’t follow the bulldozed tracks to the right (they descended to the lake while the actual path turned left), but I managed to lose the trail anyways. I think it wasn’t clearly marked where I deviated, so I went downwards instead of upwards to the left. What followed , was an intriguing and quite exciting hike by the lakes.. After about 4 hours I found the trail again.
Utterly exhausted, I made tent as soon as I found a good spot, ate and fell soundly asleep.