A Pastel Purple Sunset (Wild Camping and SUPing in Sweden)

2019 was the year I began to fall in love with camping again, after a long absence since my teenage years. A chance encounter with this lake, Sjön Skagern, somewhere in the middle of Sweden, was just the icing on the cake. I randomly stumbled across this place, looking for somewhere to spend the night.

And what a sunset! None of your usual oranges and yellows and pinks. This was the most amazing purple sky, and it reflected from the absolutely flat surface of the lake. I barely had time to grab a photo or two and pitch my tent before the sun disappeared entirely.

Again, on this trip, my sleep was disturbed. Although I was in the middle of nowhere (or at least I thought I was), I imagined I could hear voices as I was lying huddled in my sleeping bag, cursing the buzzing mosquito that had followed me into the tent. Being new to wild camping, of course my imagination began to run away.

‘That voice! It must some one out to get me.’

Thoughts of a mad axe murderer, or something equally terrifying, kept me awake. I’m not sure why I thought that a crazed murderer would be waiting in the deserted Swedish countryside just on the off chance that a suitable victim might happen to camp there one night in June 2019. Surely there would be more potential victims in a city centre? But the mind doesn’t always work rationally. Well, I don’t know about yours, but mine certainly doesn’t!

Sleep came eventually.

At least it did until the early hours when I experienced my second thunderstorm of the trip. Bright flashes of light illuminated the fabric of my tent, colouring everything inside an eerie shade of green, as heavy rain beat down onto the branches and leaves of the trees all around me. I wondered if I would be safe under the trees.

‘Perhaps I should move’, I thought before nodding off to sleep again.

Next time I woke, it was morning proper, and I was able to see how blessed I was by my random choice of campsite. My tent was adjacent to a small beach. The sand was grainy, and more orange and brown in colour than the more traditional golden yellow. The surface of the lake was the flattest water I have ever seen. It looked as if you could walk on it. I had no plans to paddle that morning, but I knew I had to spend a little more time here so that I could explore this delightful lake. If I was late reaching my next camping spot, so be it.

It was porridge and coffee for breakfast. Again. Six mornings into my trip, I was conditioned to drink black coffee, but I’ll never enjoy the bland taste of porridge made with water rather than milk! I don’t know what wet cardboard tastes like but I’m willing to bet it’s pretty similar!

As I paddled along the shore of the lake, I found the source of the voices from last night. I wasn’t in the wilderness after all. I was within a few hundred metres of a row of lakeside houses. And in the yard of the very first house, a middle-aged man was busy chopping firewood with a chainsaw. I was glad he hadn’t been doing that the night before. My paranoia might not have been for the mad axe murderer but rather for the Texas chainsaw massacre!

Sjön Skagern is a huge lake, at least 20 km long and 10 km wide. Remarkably, it is only the 18th largest lake in Sweden. My one-hour paddle barely scratched the surface, but it was a worthy expedition. I found an empty boathouse, in perfect condition. The water remained entirely flat as I completed a small circuit of a tiny section of the lake and arrived back at my tent to pack away and continue my drive northwards.

I knew I would make it to Hammerfest in time to complete my mission, as long as there were no more delays.