Non-clavemeister Lapland Clave Trip Report

I'm sitting here in my hotel room in Stockholm, 930 pm, getting ready to
catch some shuteye before my 645 flight to Brussels then on to Kinshasa
(where the news has been stable for the past few months, thank you VERY
much), and I'm just glowing from the great time I had up here this year! All
you guys who bailed out at the last minute really lost out! It was a clave
to remember, with many sublime and breathless moments.

I arrived a few days late for the start of the clave, as I was flying
FrequentFlier Airlines, and could not get the flight times I wanted.
Nontheless, it worked out well as Vaughan was arriving the next day from a
conference, so I had a chance to un-jetlag at a hotel in Umea. I cannot
remember the flight into Umea, as I was so zoned out from 2 days of airline
food and timezone changes that I napped the entire way. I was impervious to
the stares from the hostess and people in the airport until I visited the
restroom and saw what several hours of drool and leaning against the window
had done to an already bad haircut. A quick splash and a shave, and I was on
to the hotel and some real sleep. The next day, Thursday, I did a complete
food shop, had a cup of coffee on the streetside while I eyed the luscious
Swedish women, then Vaughan picked me up and brought me to his new house in
the University district of town. We did another complete food shop, just in
case the 8 people up there had somehow run out of food and were expecting to
get snowed in for a month, and packed up our gear for the 4 hour drive
northwards. Still jetlagged, I napped most of the way, and later Vaughan
confessed that he did, also. Luckily we didn't hit any reindeer, although
several times a suicidal Rulolph tried his best to get impaled on our
bumper.

We arrived at the end of the paved road, about 30 miles NW of the location
of last year's clave, then continued on to the end of the dirt road, another
20 km deeper in. From there, we loaded our gear into the helicopter for the
25km flight into the nature reserve where the clave was being held. While we
were weighing our bags at the heliport, we realized that we were about 90kg
overweight (at about a dollar a kilo), so we pulled out some of the heavier
things, like the case of beer (we had plenty of Single Malt) and some canned
goods. Later, we discovered that an arrangement had been made with the
helicopter company to not charge the clave members for overweight, and we
sorely missed the beers. More on that later...

The flight in was short and sweet. If you have never taken a ride in a tiny
chopper, I can tell you that you definately lose your breath right at the
start as this thing rockets upwards....sort of like that flying nightmare we
all had as kids...but then it's just exhilirating. You are just hanging
there with nothing between your feet and the ground (I was in the jumpseat),
and the view is astounding! The moutain range unfolded before us, and the
river snaked its way down the valley below. Even from several thousand feet
high, it was obvious how pristine the area was, and how clear the water was.
There was only one other cabin in sight within hundreds of miles, with no
footpaths or dirt roads or anything. We were just entering the deep part of
the moutain valley, and then the chopper dropped down right at the side of
our cabin. We disembarked, everyone was outside watching the chopper land,
and the first person I saw and greeted was Jarmo, who shook my hand, yelled
something unintelligable to me over the pounding whoosh of the chopper
blades, and then he, Erik and Fred lept into the chopper and it roared away.
I'm still not certain what he said or why he left the clave early, but it
was nice to see the three of them again, even for the 20 seconds that it
lasted.

I then met Bob, Tom, Don and Jerome (aka the Leaping Frog) whose primary
concern was if we had brought the mosquito coils. I jokingly said that they
could buy them from me for $10 each, and Don informed me that I could
probably get over $100 each for them. One step into the cabin and I realized
that he was right. The interior of the cabin was just HUMMING with
mosquitoes....it sounded like there were a dozen transformers in the
rafters, and thousands of mozzies were swarming in the interior space.
Apparently, they had driven the occupants crazy for several days, but within
minutes of lighting one of the coils, there was a half-inch layer of dead
mosquitoes on all the surfaces and the room was buzz-free. That night, they
all slept fitfully for the first time in a week. I really could have
gotten $100 a coil from those guys.

Anyway, the cabin was pretty nice, although it was about a half mile away
from the river, through swamps and forest. The hike down to the water was a
serious impediment for a few days until my legs got in shape, and after that
it was no problem. Nontheless, in the future I'd suggest skipping the cabin
and just camping by the water for the ambience and convenience to drinking
water, swimming and impromptu fishing.

After several days of fishing the transparent water and hiking over the
hills to the lake rumored to be char-filled (we only found it to have
hundreds of willing 14-inch browns), the 'official' clave ended and the
chopper arrived to remove everyone but Vaughan and me. In a stroke of
genius, I suggested giving Vaughan's car keys to someone on the first
chopper ride out, who would go to the car, load up half the case of beer,
and give it to the pilot to deliver to us on his return flight for the rest
of the departees. With the beers delivered and everyone gone but the two of
us, Lapland Clave part deux began. We spent the next day hiking several
miles upstream to some pristine waters where Vaughan caught a 1.4 kg brown,
and we saw some stunning scenery. The next day we rowed several miles
downstream to the lower cabin and fished the rapids and pools there. We got
skunked for big fish, but had a stupendous evening with 4 gentlemen who have
exclusive use of the cabin. We were treated to a wonderful 'last supper' (it
was their last night also) of smoked oysters, caviar, smoked trout (one of
them had landed a 2.5 kg brown that morning) and several glasses of single
malt, beer, appertif and expensive wine. Later that night, after dark, as I
rowed Vaughan and myself back up to our landing, we were treated to a river
as calm as glass, with humbling reflections of the sky and mountains framed
between the dark riverbanks. It was religious. Damn, I love this part of the
world!

The next day, we packed up our gear, the chopper arrived at 1pm, and we flew
downstream back to civilization. As we flew over the cabin, the 4 men came
out and waved to us, which was heartwarming. 15 minutes later, we were
dropping down into the parking lot, and packing the trunk for the drive back
to Umea.

The next two days we spent fishing local streams around Umea for grayling
and sea trout, but other than some more stunning scenery and pristine water,
we were unsuccessful. However, despite the paucity of fish (attributable to
the the lack of insects, as Roger noted in his TR), just being in this neck
of the world is a battery-charging experience. I talked to SWMBO and we are
looking into finding a vacation cabin in the northwoods here, so maybe the
next clave (or at most, the one after that) will be held at my place! We can
only hope! :-)


Tight lines!
--riverman