Abisko in Swedish Lapland is a popular year-round outdoor destination. Abisko offers various trails for day hikes and long hiking trails of hundreds of kilometres. The most famous hiking trail is Kungsleden, but the most spectacular scenery awaits around it in the mountains.

I planned a long-distance hike at the end of August according to what I wanted to see, starting from Kårsavagge in Abisko National Park. The highlights in the midlle of the hike were Mårmastugan and Mårmapasset, Unna Reaiddávággi, Unna Räitastugan and Reaiddájávri and Sielmmavággi. Of these I saw the first and last. The final part of the hike included Unna Allakas, Kungsleden and Abisko National Park.

Abisko 170 km hike in August

The destinations in Swedish Lapland I wanted to see were Kårsavagge, Mårmapasset, Unna Reaiddávággi and Unna Allakas. I connected the points on the map, and from these I created a 170 km (106 miles) ring route:

Abisko - Kårsavagge - Abiskojaure - Áhpparjávri - Aliseatnu - Mårmastugan - Mårmapasset - Vistas - Stuor Reaiddávággi - Sielmmavággi - Tjäktja - Alesjaure - Unna Allakas - Gamavuopmi - Abiskojaure - Abisko.

I left Unna Reaiddávággi for another time, and instead hiked past Stuor Reaiddávággi and Nallo to Sielmmavággi because of the weather. The whole hike took 6 days and 5 hours - a 3 hour evening hike on the day of arrival and a two hours of morning hike on the day of departure.

It was a long hike and I took so much photos that the hiking story is in three parts. Here are the experiences from the hike from Lake Áhpparjávri via Mårma and Nallo to Kungsleden and Tjäktja. The hiking route was marked on the ground between Lake Áhpparjávri and Mårmastugan hut and between Vistastugan and Nallostugan huts.

Read also the first part of the adventure: Abisko 170 km hike - Kårsavagge

Hiking in Swedish Lapland - from Lake Áhpparjávri along the Aliseatnu River

The morning dawned clear and calm on Lake Àhpparjávri. The first rays of sunshine dyed the peaks of Kåtåtjåhkkå mountain pink at 5am in the last week of August. The surface of the lake was like a vast beautiful mirror, reflecting the mountains.

I set up the camping kitchen next to my tent and listened to the complete silence, no birds singing or crickets chirping, just silence. After a cold night, the ground and small leaves were frosty. Over coffee, I could still admire the fine swirl of mist gliding slowly across the lake.

As I expected in the evening, the tent was totally wet. The northern shore of Lake Áhpparjávri grew willow and the soil was moist. My tent site was in the shade, and there was no wind. I shook and wiped the tent fabric, but it was a tad heavy pack to carry.

I headed onto a path lined with dense willows at quarter past seven. The bushes were wet, and soon so were my hiking tights. The poles got stuck in the willows. The bushes and damp slopes lasted a few kilometers, it was a good thing I hadn't continued hiking further in the evening.

Duckboards had been built over the boggy slopes. The boards were in poor condition in places, and the planks broken just at a creek. Still, it was a breeze compared to the jungle parts of my Sarek hike.

Before Lake Bieggaluoppal, the terrain turned into low tundra vegetation and the trail became dry. There would have been some great campsites on the shore of the lake.

The water surface was still mirror-like, and the cliffs inviting. I left my backpack at the foot of a rock and scrambled up the cliffs to enjoy the moment. A moment of meditation calms the mind and banishes stressful thoughts if they pop into your head while walking.

I continued along the gently rolling valley. Two reindeer were trotting around and I watched their antics with amusement. Anyway, I needed small breaks as the pain in my feet always started after around ten kilometres of hiking.

The sun was shining from a completely cloudless sky and it was pretty warm for the end of August. But I had enough sunscreen only for my face, so I wore a long-sleeved Arc'teryx technical shirt to cover my arms.

The Alip Honggánjira and Lulip Honggánjira were easy to cross along the big rocks in the stream. The latter flowed as a fine waterfall down the slopes of Hongá and Gielascohkka. Bright red leaves and grasses lined the path towards Vuopmegeachi.

Vuopmegeachi and the Aliseatno bridge

At Vuopmegeachi, the path disappeared into lush birch forest. Amidst the tall vegetation, a small clear stream splashed between the stones. A short distance away, a slightly larger stream was waiting for me to hop over from rock to rock.

After the stream, the view of the valley opened up. The path descended down the slopes of Vuopmegeachi towards the river. On the other side of the valley, the Vierrojohka River could be seen as a narrow ribbon. Further behind it rose the white glaciers of Moarhmmábákti mountain tops. It was a shame the weather would turn bad in the morning.

I arrived at the Aliseatno River. The hanging bridge was built right over the beautiful rapids. The river roared deep and blue between the vertical stone walls.

Near the bridge, on the Vuopmegeachi side and on the sunny side, fine smooth cliffs tempted me to take a break for lunch. I ate the sandwiches I'd made that morning, with crisps and yoghurt berries that had melted in the heat. The emotional moment of every hike hit me at the same time, so I let go of my woes by the river.

I stood on the bridge and admired the Aliseatno's foaming for a while. Then I set off up the lush hillside towards Vierrojohka. The landscape and the air reminded me of the brightest summer.

Hiking along Vierrojohka River

The path meandered through rolling grass to the river. The turquoise Vierrojohka River glistened low in the riverbed, which was already beginning to take on the red tones of autumn. Upstream, I saw a bridge and two tiny figures standing with backpacks.

By the time I reached the bridge, the hikers were gone. The view from the bridge was so pretty that I took yet another break. The trail continued on the other side of the river, climbing steeply up a sandy slope. I arrived at the reindeer fence and crossed the gate to the other side.

The grassy path became rocky in places. Small clear streams flowed along the path. The tops of the trees were already showing signs of autumn foliage. Just along the riverbank, the willows were dense, so I followed the path up the slope. At one point, the path descended right to the water's edge, next to lush flowers.

By 5:30 pm, the sun was getting low enough that the valley was already in shadow. Halfway along the trail there was a larger stream where the sun was still shining. I sat on the warm bank stones for a nice chocolate and water break.

For a while I walked right along the riverbank until the trail climbed up the slope. The Vierrojohka River at this point roars deep in a gorge among the rocky walls. At several bends the river formed spectacular waterfalls framed by incredibly beautiful rocks and cliffs.

The rest of the way to Mårmastugan was a steady walk in a wide, barren valley. At the end of the valley, the peaks of Moarhmmábákti towered with snow patches. A small hut was visible as a black dot from a distance. The landscape looked incredibly beautiful.

Mårmastugan cabin and a ghost story

Mårmastugan is a small shelter for two people on the upper reaches of Vierrojohka River. Inside you can find payment instructions if you want to use the camping structures. There is a dry toilet and woodshed in the yard, and a nice campfire site.

There was already one hiker in the hut, so I preferred to pitch my tent on the rocks a little further away from the cabin. I took extra care to adjust the lines and wedges in case the wind picked up at night. I fetched water from a clear stream near the shelter.

I had dinner next to the tent, watching the beautiful sky. Clouds began to gather over Moarhmmábákti, the setting sun tinting them orange from below. My mind was somehow restless, as if some threat was hovering around. As if I was trespassing on the mountain. I dismissed the thoughts as anxiety about tomorrow's crossing of Mårmapasset in bad weather and went sleeping.

In the middle of the night I woke up to a sudden loud noise and the sound of what sounded like a quarrel. Heart pounding, I peered out of the tent and surveyed the dim landscape. Nothing. I thought I was having a nightmare and went back to sleep.

Sometime after an hour, the same loud noise, cursing and bickering in an unrecognisable language repeated. I woke up again, heart pounding and certain that there were people on the mountain. Again, I stared at the slopes and the hut from my tent pitch for at least ten minutes, but again, nothing or no one was in sight.

What a nightmare, or whatever it was. For the rest of the night I wondered what might have happened on the mountain in the past and what the sounds I had heard had really been. I couldn't sleep one bit anymore that night.

After a terrible night, I was relieved when the sun rose and the day came to light. The sunrise created an incredible display of colour and cloud formations in the sky. The kind that they say often foretell a storm.

Mårmapasset in wild weather

This morning I should have started the hike right away and not procrastinated, but I did. First while photographing the gorgeous orange clouds, then while packing my gear and stopping off at the cabin. I didn't leave until 8 o'clock.

The first part of the journey was easy, walking along the rocky river. Behind me the sky was lighter, ahead dark grey thick clouds swept the lower slopes of the mountains. The glaciers of Moarhmmábákti and Moarhmmá mountains were hidden in the clouds.

I expected rain from Vistas only a few hours later, but the drizzle started at 9am. Garmin optimistically still claimed that it would be partly cloudy with a 0% chance of rain. I sighed and packed my camera away.

I immediately headed wrong too far to the left, as I started climbing the saddle between Vássacochka and Ruomascorru. Despite the fog, I quickly found the right route. This is the steepest slope in Mårmapasset, but the climb was quick even in bad weather. So I had the delusional thought that the Mårma route to Vistas could be done quite easily after all.

The worst weather was at the top of Mårmapasset and especially on the slopes facing Vistas, an unimaginably large boulder field. The wind blew so hard that it was sometimes difficult to stand upright, the freezing rain whipped my face horizontally. And of course there was a headwind.

I didn't dare take my camera out of the dry bag, but then again, there was nothing to photograph. I snapped an illustrative photo with my mobile phone of a rocky field. About 15 meters around, there were rocks, the rest was thick grey. On a short video clip I watched afterwards how the storm swept the slope from the bottom upwards.

The most difficult part of the route was the descent from the highest point. The slope was almost vertical in places and the path was full of loose gravel. I slipped and hurt my knee and wrist a bit while protecting my head and ankles - you don't want to hurt them on a hike. I berated myself for deliberately hanging around on the most challenging terrain of the trek on such a hellish weather.

Another difficulty, apart from the steep slope, were the huge boulders between the summit and Lake Vássajávri. In the fog, following the cairns, I perhaps strayed a little from the optimum route, and had to climb between the huge boulders. I alternated between staring at the compass and the GPS. Mårmapasset in foul weather, the most ridiculous idea ever!

I vividly remembered the Halti-Kilpisjärvi hike and the horrors of Salmikuru. Fortunately, Mårmapasset was not the first tough spot I encountered.

All I could do was to move forward one boulder at a time, sometimes painfully slowly. I tried to keep up a brisk enough pace to avoid the cold. Despite the rain gear, hours of hiking in the rain makes all your clothes damp to say the least. Today's meals were quick breaks and crisps.

Finally arriving at Lake Vássajávri, I was already on the winning side in my mind. The tricky thing about the fog was that I couldn't see at all where to cross the Vássajohka River, which starts at the lake. The recommended route was marked on the map between the lake and a small lake to the east of it.

I estimated a few metres at a time of stones to get across with dry shoes. Sure, my shoes and socks were soaked through in the torrent, but still. Someone had tuned up an animal skull and horns on a large rock, perhaps as a trail marker. It looked creepy. I hoped to get away quickly.

After Lake Vássajávri, the rocks got smaller and the passage became easier. The joy didn't last long, because I had to climb again, this time around the slopes of Vássanjunnji. The slope was gentle in places, steeper in others. It was difficult to judge the steepness in the fog, and the direction often seemed wrong. In places it was rocky, sometimes grassy.

As I descended towards Lake Vássaloamijávri, the wind began to die down and the rain turned to drizzle. There was a sense of relief when the lake finally appeared out of the mist. One scenario had been to camp on the shores of Lake Vássaloamijávri in the glorious evening sunshine, taking a dip in the lake. This time I continued my hike towards Vistastugan.

Vistas valley, Vistastugan and sauna

Looking at the map, I imagined I was hiking from Lake Vássaloamijávri to Vistastugan quickly. In reality, it was another three wet hours. Fortunately, the rain had almost completely stopped.

The clouds parted and the view opened up down to the valley and the Visttasjohka River meandering along the bottom. The view with its low lurking clouds was exactly the same as the one I had seen on my Vistas hike a couple of years ago. The humidity was also in the same range.

The trail was nice and gently downhill. After an hour's walk from Lake Vássaloamijávri, the scenic Stuor Reaiddávágg valley was revealed from under the clouds. A little later, Nallo mountain also appeared from the clouds.

The streams from the mountains were almost dry, only large and deep rocky furrows crossed the slopes. Next to the path, right by the stream, there was a pile of bones, handsome horns and layers of grey fur. There the journey of a majestic animal had ended.

To avoid getting too dry, there was one more swamp or field of bogs to cross, and there was no way to get over them with dry feet. At this point it started to get a bit cold and I thought for the first time about the Vistas sauna. I decided to inquire about the sauna as soon as I got to the cabin, as I was not tempted to walk any further today.

STF Vistastugan is located on the same spot where the first hiking structures in the Kebnekaise region, Vistaskåtan, were built. The current mountain hut accommodates 30 hikers. Vistastugan has a great location by the Visttasjohka River at the junction of large valleys.

The rest of the trail winds through a birch forest. When I reached the yard, one of the guests came out of the cabin to greet me. The sauna was still on and I could be the last one to take a sauna when it was vacant if I wanted to. I didn't have to think twice - I marched over the swaying suspension bridge to the camping area, set up my tent and packed my sauna bag.

The sauna was great and the steam was scorching hot. I huddled on the boards like a dog that had been standing in a rain for two days. Finally, I cleaned up and filled the buckets with washing water. A couple of hikers arrived after me and set up a tent near the sauna. Clean and dry in warm clothes, I went back to my tent, ate as much as I could and fell asleep within minutes to the sound of the rain.

The hike from Mårmastugan to Vistastugan lasted pretty much exactly nine hours. I had estimated the journey to take between 7 and 10 hours, so there were no surprises despite the creepy weather.

In the morning, the Vistas valley was still covered in thick fog and drizzling drops from the sky. I went to the hut to pay for the sauna and camping in cash, the hut guard had been out hiking in the evening. We had a nice chat. I heard that a wolverine had been seen in the woods yesterday. I told the hut guard about the moose I had seen on my last hike in Vistas.

I had intended to hike Unna Reaiddávággi, because I wanted to photograph the beautiful valley. The weather forecast for this day was almost the same: rain, wind and clouds. I changed the route to an easier valley, Stuor Reaiddávággi. I would come back to photograph Unna Räitavagge some day with better luck.

I asked the hut guard about Sielmmavággi. It would be roughly the same kind of rocky field as Mårmapasset. And the same kind of weather was in the forecast. I didn't use my one spare day for Mårmapasset, and I wouldn't use it today either.

Stuor Reaiddávággi and Nallo in the rain

I left for Stuor Reaiddávággi only at 11 am, wearing a rainskirt. Nallo, or Nállu, was shrouded in low hanging clouds. The stream from Lake Reaiddájávri was foaming in a deep gorge. A fine waterfall was flowing down in the distance ahead.

I thought I'd take photos sparsely to avoid getting more moisture in the camera. I tested the settings and the camera immediately crashed. Now it didn't feel so annoying that I had changed Unna Reaiddávággi for Stuor Reaiddávággi. From now on, all the way to Kungsleden, the pictures are taken with a mobile phone.

The Nallo valley was very easy to get around: a smooth, good path along the river. The first three kilometres were a gentle ascent, the rest of the way mostly flat. The sharp triangle of the Nallo mountain appeared every now and then to dominate the cloudy valley. Nallo is said to be easy to summit in good weather, even though it looks wild.

I reached Nallostugan hut after a three-hour walk. Nallostugan is located in the Kebnekaise regulation area in a rugged alpine landscape. There are limited tent sites near the cabin, the terrain is rocky.

After Nallo's huts, Stuor Räitavagge turns left and continues all the way to Kungsleden and Sälka huts. On my previous Kungsleden hike, I camped there just north of Sälka.

One of the best sights is the Reaiddajávri glacial lake at the junction of Unna Räitavagge and Stuor Räitavagge. The lake is Sweden's second highest glacial lake, at 1506 metres above sea level, according to the STF. That leaves at least one big blue reason for me to come back hiking here, the summit of Nallo could be another. And of course the scenery of Mårmapasset is a third!

To get to Nallostugan you would have had to wade a shallow and rocky stream. I continued hiking in the rain towards Sielmmávággi, as there was no need to visit the cabin.

The path started almost immediately go up a grassy slope and then continued parallel to the stream on a plateau above it. After a while there was a steeper ascent of grassland ahead. To the left was a pretty waterfall that cascaded all the way down a gully lined with dark slates.

Sielmmavággi - a glimpse of blue sky

The profile of the Sielmmavággi route resembles a staircase: first a steep wall, then a large flat plateau, and then several in a row. After climbing Stuor Räitavagge, I arrived at a magnificent blue unnamed lake, flanked on three sides by towering mountains, Tjäktjatjåkka being the most spectacular. The terrain was easy-going rock and moss, almost flat all the way past the lake.

After the lake, there was an ascent on a rocky slope dotted with a few snow patches. I followed the right side of the creek. The rocks were slippery in places from the rain, but the slope was otherwise not difficult to climb.

The next step after a short flat was a little more difficult. There was water running down the middle of the valley and the wall was completely covered in snow in the middle, so I had to decide which side to climb. The icy vertical snow was out of the question.

I continued on the right side and started climbing a steep rocky and gravel slope. However, the wall became very steep, and the route to the next plateau looked difficult enough that I carefully turned back down. It took some time, and the slope was even more difficult on the way down.

At the bottom, I looked to cross the wide stream on the rocks. At the same time I saw three hikers descending down the left side of the slope from the other direction. So the right route was there, I set off across the water.

We exchanged a few words standing on the rocks in the middle of the stream, I told them about the route to Nallostugan and they told me about the route to Sielmmavággi. There was a little bit of snow ahead. The hike felt heavy in the drizzle and wind. At least today I could see the scenery, unlike yesterday.

I climbed up the rocks. The cairns were starting to appear more frequently now, which was a big help on this route. Because of the boulders, streams and steep walls, there were not that many possible routes.

As if my hopes had been answered, suddenly the rain stopped and the air calmed down. The masses of clouds receded and even blue skies dotted the sky here and there. I was so happy to be able to cross the most difficult parts of this stretch in good weather, even though my camera wasn't working.

The route meandered for a while and reached the highest point of the valley. Now there would be only a long gentle descent to Kungsleden in an endless rocky field. Fortunately, the terrain down to the small lake was very pleasant with small stones and grass.

I skirted the lake on its left side. The Sielmmánjira River flows from the lake to the north of Tjäktjastugan. I walked the rest of the way along the Sielmmánjira River. There was nothing but grey rock for about three kilometres. The sky was grey again and it was drizzling.

Kungsleden - camping near Tjäktja

Only about five hundred metres from Kungsleden did the rock give way to grass. I saw the cabins of Tjäktja as small dark dots against the Lulip Muorahiscohkka mountain. Finally, I was back at the familiar Kungsleden, about a kilometre from Tjäktja cabins.

I was looking for a flat place to pitch my tent near the river. A few others had spent their nights along the Sielmmánjira River over the years, judging by the firestones and other signs of camping. The day's hike was 21 kilometres, with an ascent of 848 metres.

At the end of the day, I dismantled the camera and carefully put the pieces in a dry bag with a few dry clothes, and took the bag next to me. It was a bit of a shame that the worst weather of the journey fell on the most challenging and scenic parts of the trip. But that's the thing with hiking: the weather is what it is. I slept soundly after the tough hikes.

From Lake Áhpparjávri via Mårma and Sielmmávággi to Tjäkta, it was a good 62 kilometres. The ascent was 2361 metres.

In the morning I woke up from the quiet Kungsleden to still grey weather. But the clouds would be receding, the day should be beautiful. Miraculously, my camera came to life after only a day of sulking.

The last leg of the hike would begin and I was in a good mood. I was still about to see Unna Allakas, Gamavuopmi and Hoiganjohka, and the last Kungsleden stretch to Abisko!

Hiking from Abisko

Most Abisko trails start from the Abiskojåkka River along the E10 road. The start of the Kårsavagge trail is also the route to Njulla and Rihdonjira waterfalls. The eastern trail leads to Baddosdieva and Lapporten. On the Torneträsk side of the road is the Abisko canyon.

The Nordkalottleden Trail route also passes through Abisko. The Nordkalott Trail can be hiked to Kilpisjärvi through Malla Nature Reserve towards the Finnish peak of Halti and on to Norway as far as Reisa National Park and Kautokeino.

Abisko is easily accessible by car, train and bus from Kiiruna or Narvik. From Kiiruna it takes just over an hour to drive to Abisko. The Abisko Visitor Centre and the Naturum Visitor Centre are located next to the E10 road and the railway. Naturum has an information board, a map and two parking areas.

Parking is available on the north side of the road when staying at the Abisko Visitor Centre. South of the train station there is a large free car park where long-term parking is allowed.

Nikkaluokta as a starting point for hiking

Mårmapasset, Vistas and Nallo are closer to Nikkaluokta than Abisko. The Vistas valley can be accessed directly from the trail from Nikkaluokta.

From Nikkaluokta it is a short walk to Kebnekaise via Dag Hammarskjöldsleden - there is also a helicopter to Kebnekaise from the Nikkaluokta mountain station. From the Dag Hammarskjöldsleden trail you can also make a detour to Cievrraláhku and Tarfala.

Nikkaluokta Sarri is a large mountain station with accommodation and restaurant facilities. The food is good and the service friendly. There is also a small shop in the main building where you can buy hiking equipment and snacks. There are paid parking areas for short and long term parking.

Nikkaluoka is easily accessible by car and bus from Kiiruna. From Kiiruna to Nikkaluokka takes less than an hour. You can also get to Kiiruna by train.