Fallet & Fjället

This sign says that underground rivers cause giant holes in the earth.

This riverbed is totally empty.

Maybe the river is underground?

It looks like a river once ran through this valley.

It sure would be weird if a whole river went underground.

Oh, giant holes in the earth.

We should not enter the giant holes.

Even if they do have trails leading right in.

It sure seems like there is an underground river here.

Maybe we’ll get a better view from above.

Isabelle says, “Look, a giant hole in the earth.”

A bit of underground river peeks through the hole!

Some of it also leaks up through sand dunes.

“What a strange river,” says Isabelle.

It is Bjurälven, a river that sneaks past Norwegian border control by going underground.

It even won an award. Best Underground River of 2014.

We’ll never know how many bodies are down in those holes.

But they won’t disturb our lunch.

On the way out, we are treated to a rare waterfall.

The next day we drive to our next hotel. Stopping by a waterfall on the way.

And stopping for lunch.

Which is also on a waterfall.

Our hotel is very concerned for our snow safety.

And they have reindeer pizza.

And I have reindeer pizza.

Another day, another Sami village.

This one is on a lake.

And scattered throughout the woods.

They have creative ways to protect their food from bears.

And they live in luxury.

There’s a church.

With a tree bowl.

They have to mow their roofs.

Their sinks are trees.

Isabelle contemplates life.

I contemplate arctic char.

On the drive home, we stop to check the woods for mushrooms.

And to check the woods for mountains.

And to check the woods for waterfalls.

The next day we drive to the top of a hill.

It’s a tiny, abandoned airstrip.

With a view.

Then we stop by some woods.

“Just want to check if they have a…”

“Come on, maybe they have one!”

Yep, one of those.

And a few more of those.

And a couple more.

Also some of these.

Another day, another waterfall!

Though not as many trees.

It’s a fjäll!

The fjäll cotton flutters in the wind.

And rolling mountains loom in the background.

Topped with a bit of August snow.

And no trees for as far as the eye can see.

We trudge.

And we trudge.

But there’s just nothing out here.

Maybe over this hill?

No, nothing.

What a dreadfully boring place.

Just rocks and grass.

Probably not much over there, either.

And nothing down there.

And nothing up here.

“Wait, is that something?” Isabelle inquires.

Yes! Rock ptarmigans!

They flutter away.

And then there is nothing again, except what we brought with us.

Which is sausage and pasta.

And a car, to get us out of here.

To a troll forest.

Where stumps have faces.

And rocks have personality.

There are cute rocks.

Happy rocks.

Stylish rocks.

Amorous rocks.

Frightened rocks.

Disturbed rocks.

And disturbing rocks.

And then… there is a waterfall.

Followed by a different waterfall.

Followed by a different waterfall.

Followed by a different waterfall.

We head home for another reindeer pizza.

And then two more days of rainy, photo-less adventure.