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Additional Hints No hints available. What are Attributes? Advertising with Us. There are no Trackables in this cache. View past Trackables. What are Trackable Items? Hemavan m. Traditional Cache This cache has been archived. LN7: Arkiveras tills vidare. A cache by LN7 Message this owner. Difficulty: Terrain:. Join now to view geocache location details. It's free! Sign up. Looking for a different adventure? Please note Use of geocaching. Den ligger alldeles intill Kungsleden. Can you imagine Europe's greatest nature reserve? But there's more to do at these Arctic Circle resorts. Heli-ski, snowmobiling, husky sledging, lake fishing through the ice you name it - anything is possible! The km long Kungsleden Royal Trail begins in Hemavan. A trail with cabins located almost every 10 kms, it enables visitors to really experience the natural world found here in the of north of Sweden. These include glacier tours, pot-holing, guided walks, fishing and much more. There are a vast number of lakes and streams with excellent fishing and as summer turns into autumn, berries and mushrooms attract large numbers of visitors all stocking up for the winter. Read more at: www. Easiest is it if you take the skilift. Snowmobiles are not allowed in this area. Pleace note which high over sea your gps shows. Attributes What are Attributes? Inventory There are no Trackables in this cache. View past Trackables What are Trackable Items?

Hemavan 817 m.ö.h. Traditional Cache

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Click on the 4 highlighted areas of map for details of North-West Sweden We had been warned that this road was now stricken with road works, but to begin with Route was newly laid asphalt. Inevitably however we soon reached the start of the road works, and followed the pilot vehicle shepherding traffic through a section where new tarmac was being laid see above left. But far worse was to come: what had been a reasonably surfaced road 3 years ago when we last drove this route was now entirely stripped of all its asphalt, leaving just a rutted, roughly gravelled unsurfaced road for the next 20kms through the empty forests. The WW2 Dad's Army defensive position, on which Sweden had depended to counter potential German invasion from occupied Norway, now stood silent and unseen up on the hill-side. Our westward drive continued for another 10kms with Route scoured entirely of its surface down to bare rubble, until at last we reached asphalt again and were able to pick up speed. A brisk headwind raised white horses on the lake's ruffled surface, and endless forested hills extended along the southern horizon lit by the afternoon sun. This magnificent natural spectacle is without precedent in all our travels. The sun drifted into and out of rapidly passing clouds, causing the rainbow to come and go. Late afternoon in mid-July, the sun created just a single rainbow effect, unlike on our visit when the higher sun earlier in the day had cast a double rainbow above the falls. The sun finally dipped below the trees, casting the falls fully into shade; we had just made it here in time after our long drive for late afternoon photos with sunlight to create the rainbow effect above the falls. The camp-fire hearth had no cut timber for a birch wood barbecue this year, but there were dry privvies and a flat space at the far end of the parking area. By now solid cloud had gathered; despite the best of the afternoon's weather being gone, we set up our own barbecue and sat up late into the evening enjoying the peacefulness of these forested surroundings at this magnificent wild-camp spot. We woke to a disappointingly overcast sky, and sat out the morning hoping that the sun would re-appear for more waterfalls photos. Down at the look-out point, the absence of sun not only denied rainbow effect but gave the canyon a grey, gloomy air see left. The cloud persisted with no sign of breaking and no re-appearance of the sun, and by pm, we could wait no longer. Being so close to the border, the village in July was invaded by Norwegians in their mega-buses and monster caravans, behaving in the supermarket with the characteristic arrogance we had come to expect of southern Norwegians. Gaining height steadily alongside Storjorn Lake, we kept a careful eye open for Golden Eagles soaring overhead which we had seen when driving this road in ; but none to be seen this year. The surface was rough and gravelly and sloped to one side, but we pitched in the far corner well away from the camping-cars already here Photo 5 - Camp at Ankarede see left , and walked over to the hut-settlement. In we were here around the time of the Midsummer gathering, but this year in mid-July the place was deserted. Before departing the following morning, we walked over to Ankarede for photos in the bright sunshine. Viewed from the bridge, the foaming rapids sparkled in the morning sunshine Photo 7 - Ankarvattnet rapids see below left , and on the road-side verge, tall purple-blue floret-heads of Alpine Sow-thistle grew in profusion Photo 8 - Alpine Sow-thistle. A 3km dirt road led to a parking area by an old fell-land farmstead, which marked the start of a further 3km approach path for the dolina, where in classic karst limestone conditions the stream appeared and disappeared. The overall walk, 12kms there and back along the dolina, led almost to the Norwegian border in wild country; there was no time to tackle that today, but we noted it for a future visit with a wild-camp at the parking area. The road now gained further height, and having already left behind the spruces at lower altitude, now passed through the upper region of birches; as we ascended further, this gave way to low willow scrub and finally to bare, empty fell-top. To the west, the sweeping line of mountains forming the border with Norway still had large patches of residual snow. As the road rounded onto the high, barren plateau-top, we kept a careful eye open for herds of reindeer grazing the fells, but this year, 5 weeks later in the summer than our crossing, there were none to be seen. What was more in evidence were the numbers of ludicrously over-sized camping-cars befouling every lay-by. Reaching the broad, open m high plateau-top, the bare fell-scape stretched away into the distance with a desolate beauty, enclosed to the west by snow-streaked mountains see right Photo 10 - Stekenjokk Plateau. The low, shallow lake which nestles in the plateau-top watershed and drains both north-easterly and southerly see left was today a sordid, gravelly mess with trucks and diggers creating a causeway barrier across the hollow. We moved on from the high-point before the mass of cloud slowly advancing from the south could catch up. The northward descent began quite suddenly, soon dropping below the tree-line into birch trees. With increased State-sponsored colonisation of the area, Swedish settlers also began to built lodging huts here from the s. At Fatmomakke in July, the fishermen, tourists, and therefore the kroner just keep coming! We crossed the footbridge and walked along the lake-side trackway, past the cemetery and tax-collector's hut, to the gathering area on the hillside where the Midsummer pole still stood see above left. Being a Sunday, Fatmomakke church bell had rung for morning service, but there were surprisingly few other visitors and we had the church-town virtually to ourselves. As we wandered across the hillside among the birches, the soft sunlight gave the church-town a magical air. The morning sun sparkled on the white water tumbling down over the m length of the rapids Photo 14 - Trappstegsforsen rapids. But on arriving there, it was clear that its pleasant lake-side setting attracts hoards of holiday-making caravans and camping-cars with all the de rigueur materialistic paraphernalia that has to accompany them, certainly not the sort of company we should choose to share a campsite with; it was clearly a total NO-NO in anything but May or September. The road had recently been re-surfaced, traffic was light, and with the road passing through forested terrain parallel with the Inlandsbanan railway, this was a splendid drive on a sunny Sunday afternoon. Just south of Dorotea, we reached Doro Camping and received the usual welcoming hospitality from the Dutch owners Louis and Tessa; the price was a very reasonable all-inclusive kr, and we found our usual pitch down in the far corner looking out into the neighbouring forest where the Inlandsbanan train passes morning and evening Photo 16 - Doro Camping see above left. Doro Camping's station-halt on the Inlandsbanan Railway: having set up camp, it was time to walk over to watch the evening Inlandsbanan train pass through. We recalled the straightforward set of wooden steps that constituted the 'platform' for Doro Camping's little station-halt where we had clambered aboard the train in See log of our Inlandsbanan ride. Today the campsite owner had told us proudly that this had since been replaced by a newer platform, and we found an altogether out-of-character, twee log construction, far from the simple set of steps we had known! With evening sun lighting the forest, the down train appeared in the distance, and 2 back-packers alighted at Doro Camping halt. We took our photos as the Inlandsbanan red railcar approached, and waved as the train drew out to continue its journey south see above right Photo 17 - Inlandsbanan approaching Doro Camping. Tonight after several enjoyable days up in the fells, we were looking forward to our day in camp at Doro Camping tomorrow. The following morning we settled in for a day's work with the benefit of Doro Camping's site-wide wi-fi signal. On checking the BBC News however, we were horrified to learn that Teresa May had been nominated by the Tory establishment as Prime Minister; at a time when Britain needs the most clear sighted, determined and inspirational political leadership, facing as we are an uncertain future outside of the EU, we finish up with a third division player with a disastrous record of failures as Home Secretary. The lunatics are now truly running the asylum! The Last Supper sculpture group at Dorotea graveyard chapel: back into Dorotea, and before heading north again, we drove up to the parish church to see an unusual piece of artwork in the graveyard chapel. The representation of the Last Supper which fills the graveyard chapel at Dorotea, sculpted in coloured alabaster, is considered Martinius' greatest work, though how it came to finish up in Dorotea's graveyard chapel is unknown. It was again an eerily uncanny sensation on opening the chapel door: 3 trestle-tables filled the small room with 13 life-like figures sitting at supper and gesturing to the central Christ-figure see right Photo 18 - Last Supper sculpture group. Almost apologising as intruders into a private function we took our photos, and quietly withdrew leaving the group to their meal, and went down into the town to buy our food at the ICA supermarket. We were greeted at reception with a friendly welcome from the quietly reserved campsite owner; the charge was an excellent value kr including site-wide wi-fi. And the setting was simply stunning. We selected a pitch over at the far corner just above the river and right opposite the railway bridge, and lunched on the riverbank see left Photo 19 - Meselefors Camping. The sun was shining brightly in a clear sky, but little did we realise that later in the afternoon the sun would sweep around behind high pine trees casting our corner into deep shade while the rest of the site still enjoyed the afternoon sunshine! We woke to full sun again, with the glassy still river reflecting the railway bridge just below us Photo 21 - River reflections , and a fellow camper fishing in the river Photo 22 - A perfect morning for fishing. Wagtails hopped around on the grass as we breakfasted on the riverbank revelling in the glorious sunshine and peaceful setting; it was a truly idyllic morning Photo 23 - Breakfast on the riverbank see left. Paul went exploring along the railway line from Meselefors Camping's station-halt, and ventured across the girder-bridge see right for photos looking back across the camping area Photo 24 - Meselefors Camping in good time before the morning up-train was due. It had been a thoroughly enjoyable stay at Meselefors Camping which, with its excellent value price, wonderful river-side setting and view of the Inlandsbanan river-crossing, will certainly be one of the trip's most memorable campsites. A bright sun lit the endless birch forests, making this a glorious drive. This morning, the sun shone in an almost clear blue sky, lighting the forests, lakes and distant high fells. The gardens aim to provide access to a diversity of local mountain flora and protected plant species in a natural habitat. We began our bed by bed examination of the specimens, identified by excellent labelling with both the common Swedish names but more importantly the internationally recognised Latin binomial names. It was at that time thought to be a variety of Black Vanilla Orchid, but subsequent DNA analysis showed it to be a previously unknown distinct species, occurring by hybridisation between Black Vanilla and Fragrant Orchids; it was given the binomial Gymnadenia Runei , after its discoverer and founder of the Alpine Gardens Olof Rune. Along with the many other species of alpine flora in the Hemavan Gardens, we spent time particularly photographing the demurely modest little Brudkulla Orchid Photo 26 - Brudkulla Orchid , maroon in colour with a pom-pom head of florets see left. The wet, marshy hillside above the laid-out beds was left in its wild state, with many orchids growing naturally on the slope, but in mid-July the mire was so overgrown that most were lost among the summer vegetation. But on the lower slopes, we found a number of beautiful plants of Moor-king, known also as King Charles Sceptre Pedicularis sceptrum-carolinum , some still in bud Photo 27 - Moor-king. What a rewarding afternoon at the excellent Hemavan Alpine Botanic Gardens. This year however not only had the price increased to kr including coins for showers , the place was inevitably crowded in July; worse however, the facilities also were run-down and grubby, and the wooden steps which were in a broken state 3 years ago were still unrepaired. It was such a pity that prices had risen and standards declined; it is doubtful we shall ever return. Over the mountains into Norway: an unbelievably hot morning with clear sky and blazing sun; it was hard to believe that tomorrow we should cross the Polar Circle. But in the early s, Vattenfall, the state Hydro-power generating company, built the Klippen power station. The underground HEP generating plant at Klippen is fed by a 7. This lengthy head-race achieves a fall of 65m by the time it reaches the generating station, and the out-flow water is led from the power station back into the river via a 3. The road crossed the high plateau-lands almost at the tree-line, the horizon on all sides marked by rounded-topped spruce-covered fells. Beyond the lake-narrowing at Strimasund, the road wound around the shore of a further lake, and away to the west snow-covered mountains graced the horizon see above right with the shapely peaks of Okstindan 1,m standing clear above the rest. Across the border and E12 down to Mo i Rana: we reached the border at the m high watershed click here for detailed map of route see above left and pulled in briefly at a lake-side picnic area. Across the border, E12 followed the lakeshore for some 5kms now well above the tree-line to reach the entrance to the 3. The tunnel now bypasses the old route which had always been a problemsome section of the E12 highway, often closed in winter because of snow, ice or bad weather. Emerging from the tunnel back into harsh daylight see right , the road began the long, gradual descent for the remaining 25 kms to Mo i Rana, dropping down into a densely spruce-forested defile. Ahead the snows of the vast Svartisan Glacier could be seen in the far distance. E12 wound around through the forests, each bend opening up further spectacular views of distant snow-covered mountains to the west. There was much height to be lost in a short distance to reach Mo i Rana at the head of Ranfjord, but traffic was light so that George could coast steadily down the winding descent see below left. Dropping down and down, we finally reached the valley, suddenly entering the outskirts of Mo, and pulled into a Coop hypermarket for our Norwegian provisions. We had come armed with a shopping list of Norwegian foodstuffs like frozen salmon fillets, tins of King Oscar sardines, and Macks beers , but Norwegian food prices never cease to amaze! A re-visit to Mo i Rana: a short distance further and we reached the junction with Norway's main northern highway, the E6 which drops down around Mo i Rana by the rapids below the town's now closed steel works. Turning south on E6, we rounded the bypass down towards the fjord and turned off into the town to a shopping centre which houses the Tourist Information Centre See log of our visit to Mo i Rana. Just inside the mall we found an ATM for Norwegian cash. Lacking heavy artillery or air support, the small British contingent stood little chance. Nearby a memorial topped by a Communist red star lists in Cyrillic script the names of Russian POWs worked to death so far from home as slave labour building the Arctic road and railway north from Mo Photo 29 - British War Graves. We greatly admired Mo-i-Rana as a surprisingly pleasant town, coping admirably to revive itself after the closure of its steelworks major employer. Almost immediately we encountered major road works where E6 was being re-engineered; fortunately the works did not obstruct the existing narrow road. We also passed through a set of Autopass toll cameras; this year we had no Autopass account as we had done on our Norwegian trip, so they'll just have to send us a bill! Following the railway line, E6 wound an upward course into a spectacularly forested valley, enclosed by high mountains on all sides see left. Sometimes the valley opened out into wider alpine farming meadows see right , other times it wound through narrow defiles. We recalled from our May stay how the Spring melts from the heights of Saltfjell turned the wide river into a wild torrent where the farm driveway crossed on a narrow bridge. Today in mid-July, it was little more than an insignificant trickle on a stony river bed Photo 33 - Partially dry water course ; such a seasonal contrast. Round at the small camping area, we pitched alongside the pine plantation with the vista of mountains behind us. The sun was still astonishingly hot considering we were only 15kms south of the Arctic Circle; we sat out late into a warm evening after our barbecue supper, gazing up at pink reflections of the setting sun glowing on the snow-fringed mountains. The following morning the sun was up early in a clear sky, burning off the blotchy cloud over Saltfjell. Crossing the Arctic Circle on Saltfjell: turning north on E6, we gradually gained height on the ascent to Saltfjell plateau. Dark, shapely pines gave way to lush birch forest, then to thinner birches some showing blackening from Autumnal Moth defoliation, and finally to birch scrub as we reached the bom stasjon at the start of the bare plateau top. When last we were up here in May , the Saltfjell plateau was an almost continuous snowfield, such an extraordinary vista See log of our crossing of Saltfjell. Today in contrast, the only snow visible was on the ridge-line of peaks enclosing the western side of the plateau, which was itself an entirely bare and barren wilderness apart from the tarmac ribbon of the E6 and the Nordlands-banen railway line. We paused for yet another 'Crossing the Line' photo Photo 34 - Crossing the Arctic Circle on Saltfjell see right , our 5th northward crossing of the Arctic Circle, well away from the tourist hoards who pack the Arctic Circle Centre gift shop where the ephemeral souvenirs get tackier every year. Looking along the length of the railway line, the dreary vista today stretching into the distance across the barren plateau was of bare, grey-green tundra with low-lying marshy areas; this was in stark contrast with the snowy wastes seen on our last crossing of Saltfjell in May The birches became denser as we lost height and reached the first of the dark pines, and the views down into lush-green Saltdalen were magnificent against a backdrop of spectacularly rocky mountains lining the valley spread out below. We expected to continue losing height down into Junkerdalen, but in fact the narrow road climbed dramatically, shelving steeply upward around the face of the mountain lining the steep-sided valley. Tentatively George edged upwards, with the road climbing severely around the side of the deep valley to its head. Thankfully this led into a high, flat alpine farming valley which gained height steadily to the head of Junkerdalen towards the Swedish border. These were indeed staggeringly severe mountains on the Norwegian side of the border. Looking back along the valley, one isolated and magnificently shaped peak resembling the Matterhorn stood out from the overall mountainous vista along the western skyline see left. The road climbed steeply for the remaining 5kms up to the border, cut into the rock face on the left and looking out southwards across a barren mountainous wasteland. Over the brow onto a plateau, we reached the border toll station; this was one of the few border-crossings in Scandinavia with formalised toll lanes, totally deserted here. As at the Abisko border-crossing in the far north, we faced a sudden and abrupt topographical change beyond the line of the border: we had just driven up a starkly narrow alpine valley enclosed on all sides by fearsomely severe rocky mountains on the Norwegian side of the border; now suddenly on the Swedish side, softer, greener terrain sloped away with distant vistas of gently rolling fells and lakes, with smoothly rounded hills and not a harsh peak in sight. We began a gradual descent on a relaxed, gentle gradient, scarcely aware of the downhill slope. This was such a marked topographical contrast with the severely mountainous ascent on the Norwegian side of the border. Back south across the Arctic Circle: at a steady pace, we continued down the gentle grade, passing through no settlements, and glancing around the distant horizon of soft, green fells and rolling hills; this was an utterly deserted fell-scape in all directions. Traffic was light with just the occasional Norwegian caravan lumbering slowly towards the border. Water levels in the lakes we passed were dramatically low, with much of the land around lake margins now exposed. The road, now designated Route 95 in Sweden, ran on mile and after mile heading south-easterly along the shore of an elongated lake to reach again the line of the Arctic Circle. Having crossed the Circle northwards over Saltfjell earlier, we had now with the return to Sweden travelled southward again to re-cross the Polar Circle here on Route 95 click here for detailed map of route. This was a rather anticlimactic crossing point compared with the heights of Saltfjell, with here just one tour-bus and a few aimless tourists milling around. Camping Polcirkeln was located nearby right on the line of the eponymous Arctic Circle. We had considered staying here, but one glance was enough to show this was not for us: a huge and soulless winter skiing hut-encampment, spread along the lake-shore looking forlorn and utterly uninviting. We drove on, after our second crossing today southwards this time of the Arctic Circle. This was a farmstead conference-confirmation camp centre, run by the Lutheran Church and also open for general camping. With the sun still fearsomely hot and flies bothersome, we settled in, pulling out the awning for shade. With the evening sun still hot we cooked our supper, looking forward to our day in camp tomorrow at such a pleasant and welcoming spot. The sun indeed was up early for another scorching morning, and as we sat outside in the shade of George for breakfast, a small float-plane circled low around the hills to land on the lake and taxi over to a landing-stage below where we were camped Photo 38 - Float-plane at Lake Hornavan see above left. It seemed to be picking up passengers to ferry them out into the fells, and took off again in a spectacular cloud of spray across the lake see right. During the morning the back-packers departed, leaving us to enjoy the peaceful setting, looking up from our work to look out across the lake. Later in the day, as the sun declined and evening brought cooler air, we sat outside for our supper after a thoroughly enjoyable and relaxing day in camp at this lovely spot. Route 95 ran along the length of Hornavan but some distance from the lake so we had little visual impression of its size. Approaching the watery jigsaw of lakes around Arjeplog, the road passed along the causeway on which the town is set. We pulled in by the church see left to see the row of church-huts Photo 39 - Arjeplog church-huts and to shop for provisions at the nearby ICA supermarket. Just south of the town we set out along the approach path for the magnificently constructed 2km long board-walk path which links the forested islands through shallow lakeland. On a Sunday morning, this was a popular leisure route for local strollers, joggers, fishermen, and for us. We followed the board-walk at a leisurely pace, revelling in the wonderful wild flora covering the forest floor and marshland. In the height of a dry summer, water-levels were much lower than our last visit, making the boulder fields and marshland remarkably dry. The presence of Labrador Tea was immediately obvious from its heavy, medicinal turpentine smell especially when the leaves were brushed. The flowers were well past but the prominent seed-heads were evident. There was a lush ground cover of Bilberry, the darker-leafed Bog Bilberry now laden with ripe berries, and Crowberry with shiny black berries see right. We were able to clamber down from the board-walk onto the crunchy-dry marshland surface for close-up photos. Further along we found specimens of maroon star-shaped flowers of Marsh Cinquefoil see left. Then we reached the beds of Cloudberry, initially just the distinctive leaves, then a few with large, ripe orange fruits which we photographed Photo 40 - Cloudberry ripe fruit see right then picked to eat; the berries had a waxy, mealy texture almost like ready-made cloudberry jam, with large, hard seeds among the sticky pulp. We followed the board-walk around, passing barbecue-huts and fishing places, to where the route turned across bridged smaller islands. Nearer at hand, the sandy heath-land forests had very much the look of Finland. Traffic was light and we kept up a good pace, at one point having to brake sharply to avoid 3 reindeer which trotted casually across the road. In the late afternoon sun, the endless spruce forests stretching away to the northward horizon shimmered a misty green. We never cease to enjoy the northern lands, and later read of a telling statistic: Arjeplog municipality has a population density of 0. We knew where we preferred to be! Just beyond Moskosel, we pulled into the little campsite, set beside a placid lake. The owner, Naimy Olofsson, had kept the campsite for 30 years; he was now quite elderly and spoke little English, but welcomed us in a taciturn manner. There was one lake-side pitch remaining and we settled in; weary after a long day, we were glad to collapse with beers, and gaze out across the still waters of the lake see above left Photo 42 - Moskosel Camping. We were fortunate in having like-minded tent-camping Swedish neighbours who, like us conversed in quiet tones to avoid disturbing others on a still and balmy evening; such neighbourly consideration on campsites is becoming a rare event these days. The barbecue was lit to cook supper by the lakeside Photo 43 - Lakeside barbecue , and we sat late into the evening with Moon Tigers on the table to deter the mossies see right. The air was still balmy the following morning, and we sat outside again for breakfast with broken cloud reflected on the placid lake's glassy surface see left. Today was certainly not a morning for rushing to be away, and it was am by the time we departed, to drive back through the village to find the Inlandsbanan Rallar Navvies' Museum at the tiny station-halt. We took our photos in the morning sunlight of the railcars standing at Moskosel station see right Photo 44 - Moskosel station before continuing our northward journey. Next week we move on, to cross the Arctic Circle for a third time this trip northwards to Jokkmokk. Lots more still to come with our tour of Sweden. Next edition to be published quite soon. Click on the 4 highlighted areas of map for details of North-West Sweden. Sheila and Paul Published: 7 November This week's Photo Gallery. Wild Flora of NW Sweden. Bottom of Page. Return to Index Page. Sheila and Paul. Published: 7 November Top of News Page. Finland Norway Sweden Baltic States Poland Czech Republic Slovakia Croatia Denmark Sicily Alsace Greece Hungary Pyrenees Slovenia Home Page. Site Plan. Who we are.

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