A solo ski trip to the far north of Sweden has proven to be an adventure I will never forget.
As my sleeper train window creaks open, the light illuminates a winter wonderland that was invisible just hours before. The endless expanse of forest is now blanketed in a thick layer of snow, and the mountains rise up like giants from the earth. The train hurtles through the Arctic landscape at an astonishing 150 miles per hour, kicking up great plumes of white as we pass through a lake that stretches out to meet the horizon.
I've never used skis for going uphill before, so this trip seems rather ambitious, but I'm determined to push myself to new heights – literally. My plan is to ski to Låktatjåkko mountain hut and back again in one piece, with the support of some friendly locals who have kindly offered me their expertise.
The journey begins at Björkliden, where I meet a group of seasoned skiers who are about to embark on an even more challenging ascent from Riksgränsen. They offer words of wisdom as I watch them disappear over the horizon, and I can't help but feel a twinge of envy – what am I doing here?
My plan is to take it easy at first, getting accustomed to my new skis and practicing putting on skins to tackle the steeper slopes. But then comes the crucial moment when the supply wagon leaves, marking the start of the real adventure.
As I set off in its wake, the ski skins prove to be a godsend – they're like magic springs that propel me up steep hills, while also allowing me to climb at a comfortable pace. The views are simply stunning – on clear days, the snow-capped peaks stretch out before me like an endless white sea.
However, as I progress further from Björkliden, the weather begins to change dramatically. At first, it's just a light dusting of powder, but soon the snow is falling thick and fast. The temperature drops precipitously, and what was once a gentle slope becomes a formidable challenge.
I'm struggling to spot the next marker pole – they're nowhere to be seen beneath the swirling vortex of white – when I start counting steps. I know that if I lose my bearings, there's no going back; I have to keep moving forward.
As the storm intensifies around me, the tracks of the snowcat disappear into the distance, leaving me completely alone in a world of whiteout. Panic is starting to set in – how do I find my way? Do I just keep moving north until I stumble upon something?
Fortunately, I have an alimeter that tells me I'm 30 metres below the summit. But getting around this snowbank without any visible markers seems impossible.
Just as I think things can't get much worse, I receive a text message from Martin and Johan – they're willing to ski down with me if I let them tag along. What choice do I have?
As we descend together, our skis weaving in and out of the trees like a choreographed ballet, it's clear that this trip has been about so much more than just reaching the summit.
In Låktatjåkko mountain lodge, Vilma and Kicki treat me to waffles with cloudberry jam – it's the perfect reward for making it through the whiteout. And as I reflect on my journey so far, I start to realize that some of the most incredible experiences come from stepping outside our comfort zones.
It was a week-long Interrail trip, which allowed me to travel across Sweden and Norway using just one pass – and it cost a mere £335 for an adult ticket. A day ski pass costs only £39, but Låktatjåkko mountain lodge costs a substantial £150 per person, half-board.
For the record, this trip was provided by Visit Sweden – who knows what other hidden gems they might have in store?
As my sleeper train window creaks open, the light illuminates a winter wonderland that was invisible just hours before. The endless expanse of forest is now blanketed in a thick layer of snow, and the mountains rise up like giants from the earth. The train hurtles through the Arctic landscape at an astonishing 150 miles per hour, kicking up great plumes of white as we pass through a lake that stretches out to meet the horizon.
I've never used skis for going uphill before, so this trip seems rather ambitious, but I'm determined to push myself to new heights – literally. My plan is to ski to Låktatjåkko mountain hut and back again in one piece, with the support of some friendly locals who have kindly offered me their expertise.
The journey begins at Björkliden, where I meet a group of seasoned skiers who are about to embark on an even more challenging ascent from Riksgränsen. They offer words of wisdom as I watch them disappear over the horizon, and I can't help but feel a twinge of envy – what am I doing here?
My plan is to take it easy at first, getting accustomed to my new skis and practicing putting on skins to tackle the steeper slopes. But then comes the crucial moment when the supply wagon leaves, marking the start of the real adventure.
As I set off in its wake, the ski skins prove to be a godsend – they're like magic springs that propel me up steep hills, while also allowing me to climb at a comfortable pace. The views are simply stunning – on clear days, the snow-capped peaks stretch out before me like an endless white sea.
However, as I progress further from Björkliden, the weather begins to change dramatically. At first, it's just a light dusting of powder, but soon the snow is falling thick and fast. The temperature drops precipitously, and what was once a gentle slope becomes a formidable challenge.
I'm struggling to spot the next marker pole – they're nowhere to be seen beneath the swirling vortex of white – when I start counting steps. I know that if I lose my bearings, there's no going back; I have to keep moving forward.
As the storm intensifies around me, the tracks of the snowcat disappear into the distance, leaving me completely alone in a world of whiteout. Panic is starting to set in – how do I find my way? Do I just keep moving north until I stumble upon something?
Fortunately, I have an alimeter that tells me I'm 30 metres below the summit. But getting around this snowbank without any visible markers seems impossible.
Just as I think things can't get much worse, I receive a text message from Martin and Johan – they're willing to ski down with me if I let them tag along. What choice do I have?
As we descend together, our skis weaving in and out of the trees like a choreographed ballet, it's clear that this trip has been about so much more than just reaching the summit.
In Låktatjåkko mountain lodge, Vilma and Kicki treat me to waffles with cloudberry jam – it's the perfect reward for making it through the whiteout. And as I reflect on my journey so far, I start to realize that some of the most incredible experiences come from stepping outside our comfort zones.
It was a week-long Interrail trip, which allowed me to travel across Sweden and Norway using just one pass – and it cost a mere £335 for an adult ticket. A day ski pass costs only £39, but Låktatjåkko mountain lodge costs a substantial £150 per person, half-board.
For the record, this trip was provided by Visit Sweden – who knows what other hidden gems they might have in store?
did u no that 75% of ppl who ski for recreational purposes r female?! 
it's like, women are total rockstars on skis!!! 
btw, did u see that graph showing the increase in solo female travelers taking Interrail trips by 34% last year? 
it's all about empowering women to explore & discover new passions! 
and have u heard of Sweden's "Lagom" culture - it's all about embracing minimalism & living simply... but when it comes to trying new things, Swedes r actually super adventurous! 
I mean like, isn't that crazy how you can just buy an Interrail pass and travel to so many cool places without breaking the bank? £335 for a whole week? That's like, a lot of money saved! 
I'm definitely thinking of getting one for my next adventure. But, um, what's Låktatjåkko mountain lodge even do there? Is it like a ski resort or something? 
And how does the snowcat work? Can you just ride on it all day? 
and yeah, i'm feeling those envy vibes too 
when the locals offer you expert advice and you're just over here like "oh no, what am i doing?!" 
150 miles per hour sounds insane! and wow, having to navigate through the whiteout with no markers was super intense. glad you had a support team to help you out. £335 for an Interrail trip is crazy cheap tho 
! I mean, 30 meters below the summit with no clear path ahead? Talk about a thrilling challenge 
. But you know what's even more impressive? How affordable it all was 
️. An Interrail pass for £335 and a day ski pass for just £39? That's like getting a free adventure! 
!
! the views r stunning, but the whiteout snowstorm in the middle was wild 
. he had to rely on his alimeter to find his way back... so nerve-wracking!! 
[link to article](https://www.visitSweden.com/adventure/explore-the-north/laktatjajo/mountain-hut/)
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u can explore so much of europe on one pass and its super affordable 
the ski trip sounds insane btw what was going through ur mind when u got lost in the whiteout 
. but seriously, it's awesome that he got to experience all that with the support of some friendly locals 
️
. What I love most about this story is how the author acknowledges their own limitations and vulnerabilities, only to find strength in the community and support of locals. And let's be real, who wouldn't want to visit Sweden on a £335 Interrail trip? 
. Skiing solo through the Arctic landscape sounds like a dream come true... and the fact that u got to experience a whiteout with no visible markers must've been super intense 
. But hey, it's all part of the journey, right? 
. And yessss, ski skins are magic springs that propel u up steep hills 
. The views must've been BREATHTAKING 
.
. And wow, £335 for an Interrail trip? That's a steal 
.