Laplandica

…to hike in Laponia? Probably a good question this time of the year as many are working on vacation plans for this summer. And, when you think of the costs for guided tours as well as personal equipment and costs to get to Jokkmokk, it would be wise to think double hard about guide services.

Photo: A small group of hikers crossing Palkat Stream in the Tarra Valley

The background to so-called “Laponia Guides” is that, after close to 10 years of doing nothing more than erecting a few signs, Jokkmokk and Gällivare municipalities had to market and advertise “Laponia” in order to sustain, or at best, create new income areas within tourism. Through EU project fundings, the Laponia Group was created to get the ball rolling. A few people were employed in this temporary project group. A website was created, and a course in “Laponia guiding” was started, where participants would receive an “official Laponia guide” diploma. (It should be added here that this project doesn’t exist anymore and people are grappling for new ways to make an income)

Participants in these courses were mostly motivated to attain diploma status, a status to prove a person’s knowledge of Laponia and give them a “legitimacy” with guiding, but the participants had very little, if any, experience in dealing with people or even quality time in Laponia to such a degree that locals would almost feel uncomfortable. I feel it was like start-a-business-and-hope-to-learn-on-the-way. One can ask, does a diploma make a person a guide and does this diploma signify quality?

But, everyone was happy. It was a win-win situation. Long-term unemployed people could start new businesses as tour guide operators and the Laponia project could show they actually did something other than warm chair seats.

The key thought with all this is that, since the end of the 19th century, people have been hiking in Laponia without needing a guide! So, Why need guides now? The answer is probably to satisfy the egos of community leaders, possibly create a new market saving communities from financial decline and to instill a belief that visitors are incapable to hike in Laponia without this…uh…guide person.

If you want to go hiking in Laponia, all you need is some equipment, a little knowledge with map reading, some experience with tenting, an eye on weather conditions, being out in the bush and… plain old common sense! Just follow the paths. Not hard, eh?

Photo: Laponia hikers at the yearly church services at Staloluokta. WHICH ONE IS THE GUIDE?

What people need is extra equipment. Like a kajak or canoe. What Laponia needs is an outfitter…they don’t need people portraying themselves as guides and who need a yearly income to be able to live in the area. If anything, beginner Laponia hikers need a few hours of common sense talking with an experienced Laponia hiker and…off they can go.

With a correct frame of mind, investigations and planning of a hiking trip and some risk management, most people don’t need to follow in the footsteps of a guide to enjoy Laponia. Most people shouldn’t want to shell-out between 12,500 SEK (£1,034)-16,500 SEK (£1,328) extra to follow after these guides and most people should need to use their savings for travel costs, basic equipment and food needed to get so far north. It’s all a bit of a scam, really, for people to fall for.

If people need anything, it is the confidence to not be so easily led to believe they need a guide to hike in Laponia! Think about this!

The Lady has left us peacefully, today! For being a grand old dame, for which no one really knows how old she really was, perhaps 17, her kidneys were shutting down and she had become weaker and weaker these past weeks, if not since Christmas.

I can remember when she first came into our lives. We had been sitting around the dinner table on a dark evening many years ago, when some person my wife knew was coming by with “Lillan”; a strange name for a cat since it lacked the familiar “s” sound. My sons were young and we all were excited when the lady finally came in through the door holding a wide-eyed little tan tabby-like creature.

This acquaintance explained that she, in her turn, had gotten Lillan from someone else several years before, which explains the uncertainty of Lillan’s age, and now the woman was leaving Jokkmokk (I think she worked for social services) and could neither take Lillan along nor felt it fair to the cat. My boys, and especially my oldest, who had sorrowful disappointments with cats being run over on the main road in front of our house, were immensely pleased and we all were very willing to accept this responsibility. Little did we know at the time that this cat would prove to be an unforgettable delight in our lives.

The two most fears we had with Lillan was being smeared all over the road by a fast moving and heartless vehicle or being carried up the hill into the woods in the jaws of a fox needing a meal.

Photo: Cat`n a box

Now, Lillan was smart! She learned quickly that any sound of a vehicle would mean to wait in the ditch until it couldn’t be heard any more. Then, with this quietness, it was safe to cross over to the other side, where the river bank proved to be a popular and lucrative hunting ground. In the darker times of the year, she added the wit of waiting for approaching headlights to pass until she knew it was safe to proceed.

But the fox theory was puzzling! The first summer we had Lillan, she disappeared for what seemed to be all summer. She left no signs of existing and we all felt that ole riley Mr. Fox had taken her straight away. But, to our surprise and amazement, Lillan would show-up around when school started a new year. Somewhat thin, but definitely full of stories to tell and adventures experienced, had she been able to speak English or Swedish. She simply took a vacation from us this way each year!

Then, she rested contently the rest of the winter and only took the occasional mouse to keep in practice. She was a tremendous mouser and could pile up her beasts in front of the front door for us to (almost) step on, as we opened the door to let her in at night.

She could do tricks! One trick she learned quickly was the open-the-door-and-let-the-dogs-run-away trick. When she wanted in the house, she jumped at the doorknob, which in Sweden are not round but stick out to one side like a lever. Once she had this down pat, she loved to watch our dogs run out the door and, afterwards, strut herself proudly into the house with a small smirk on her face, as we humans would frantically run out calling for the dogs to come back.

Naturally, we had to change the door handle downwards to prohibit this act!

Photo: “Don’t forget Miss Moi, please!”

She laid down where she wanted to and at her leisure. She screamed demandingly for food in the mornings as soon as one woke up. She kept the dogs at bay as if she was a lioness training them and they quickly toed the mark with her. She could spend hours on my wife’s desk to watch the birds at the bird feeder, planning imaginary attacks and kills. She loved grill-style potato chips or, for that matter, any snack food and immediately climbed on a person, with drool running from her mouth, with only the mere sound of a snack package being opened.

As my boys became older and moved out of the house, I felt that I had the roll of guardian for Lillan. I’m more a canine person than a feline person and Lillan wasn’t the cat that craved attention or petting. She pretty much kept to herself and had her routines. But, we somehow found each other these last couple of years and I learned to love her wide, green eyes looking at me or when she would buff-up against my leg near dinner time. And, occasionally, she would fall asleep at night on my stomach or curled against a back or knee.

And, though it was sometimes bothersome, I enjoyed her reaching up and pulling my right arm at the dinner table, begging for food. I was always amazed that Lillan ate anything I would throw into her food bowl nearby, be it carrots, pickles, cucumbers, spicy curry food, macaroni or plain old anything! She ate! Anything!

But, these last couple of months, the lady has been slowing down. She had been losing weight in spite of eating normally, she would lay down almost in her pawprints and I noticed that she was drinking more water than usual. I always thought that her wanting fresh cool water was her reminder of living the wilderness life in the forest during summer.

Unfortunately, this was not true. Her days were closing in on her and, though she survived the road,the foxes and near death at giving birth to several dead fetuses, she couldn’t survive kidney failure. It was her destiny, somehow, and today we allowed her to rest the rest she so badly needed. It’s tough when you love an animal. But, isn’t that what love is?

I know there are people who are very fond of cats and who will swear to how great their cat is, or was. I can appreciate this and understand. But, speaking for my family, Lillan is going to continue to be in our memories and lives. We’ll miss the turned down doorknob, she standing on the window sill wanting in on a summer’s night, the placing of foodstuffs out of her reach, her lying on the kitchen table under the warming kitchen lamp, the long drinks of water she did, straight from a running tap at the kitchen sink …I even think the dogs are going to miss her! The house has lost its night watchman.

Sometime later, we will all probably find her again in another life and then we can tell her how very happy she made us and how honoured we had been with having her! Thank-you so much, Lillan!

“Thank-you, too!”

…would have been the appropriate headlines if there had been a newspaper in Jokkmokk in 1823. A journalist would have been one of twenty or so men, women and children that were ordered to watch the execution of Påhl Larsson Lampik, for the murder of his older sister Lotta (Lohtsa) Påhlsdotter Lampik just a year earlier, and he would have reported these details for any readers. The execution took place east of “Death Pond” in Jokkmokk, February 17, 1823.

According to the court records of the time, Påhl Larsson Lampik, a short 4 ft. 3½ in. (1.42 mt) 25 year-old, believed to be a “weak” person, having learning difficulties and known for a rowdy behaviour, was left at home with his sister. The father, Påhl Lampik, had skied to the winter market in Jokkmokk. Thrity-two year old Lotta Påhlsdotter, quick to learn, honest and respectful had charge of attending the reindeer and sheep.

When the father returned from market, Sunday the 24th of February, niether Påhl Larsson Lampik nor Lotta Pålhsdotter could be found. Reindeer and sheep were unattended and there were several storage houses broken into with things scattered all over the snow covered ground.

With the aid of a local official, the father searched the area. After a couple of days of light snowfall, it was somewhat difficult looking for signs of anyone, but they finally found Lotta Pålhsdotter face down in the snow by a fishermen’s hut near a frozen lake. Påhl Lampik and the official brushed the snow off her body, turned her over and found that her hair was matted with frozen blood from several deep cuts in her head. They took her body to a neighbouring house when, afterwards, Påhl Lampik skied to Jokkmokk and told constable C. M. Granström what had happened.

The constable sent out requests concerning the whereabouts and detention of Påhl Larsson Lampik. Apparently, Påhl Påhlsson Lampik had been seen and held by Johan Petter Chrisophersson, Tjauruträsk, near Gällivare. Lampik was sent back to Jokkmokk for questioning, was arrested for murdering his sister and went to trial March 28, 1822.

During the trial, witnesses explained how Lotta Pålsdotter was found, how her skull had been violently split in five places, that a couple of these cuts had gone deep into the brain, and that she had a large cut on her left arm. She obviously died instantly. (It can be noted here that the autopsy was conducted by a surgeon E.M.Waldenström, Luleå, who had taken 7 days using three horses to get to Jokkmokk and charged the court a little more than 44 Swedish Kronor for his services.)

When Påhl Larsson Lampik was summoned to witness, he explained that on the morning of Feb. 18, Lotta and he went out to gather hay and to feed the animals when they started to argue. He became angry and left his sister. He went back to the village, where he forced open all the storage houses, stole a reindeer steak and some flour and went to the Lampik “hut” and started to make dinner for himself.

After this, Lotta Påhlsdotter apparently returned to their “hut” and became angry. Påhl Larsson Lampik entered into a struggle with his sister and, after grasping the small ax his sister was known to carry in her belt, hacked his sister in her head several times killing her.

He stayed in the village that evening and the next morning, after letting loose the sheep and killing one lamb for food, tried to escape towards Luleå. After reaching Harads, he changed direction towards Gällivare, where he was captured by Christophersson.

Påhl Larsson Lampik had earlier been convicted of reindeer theft and punished with being placed in irons, strapped to a pole and given 12 whiplashes. At his murder trial, he explained his deed as being under the control of “evil powers” and was not to blame for killing his sister. And, he added, he was only defending himself because his sister had hit him.

The court found him guilty of murdering Lotta Påhlsdotter and sent Lampik to the regional prison until he would be summoned back to Jokkmokk for execution.

In 1823, almost a year after his trial, Lampik was transported back to Jokkmokk and the winter market, together with an executioner. February 16th, he was locked in a small timbered shed, east of “Death Pond” and near the road from Luleå at the top of a hill overlooking the Lule River Valley.

The next morning, February 17th, all the men, woman and children of Jokkmokk were forced to attend the execution as witnesses that murder would not be accepted in Jokkmokk. A small, probably very cold and scared Påhl Larsson Lampik was taken from the shed towards the chopping block where, after laying his head down, he was beheaded by the executioner’s ax. Rumor has it that it took two ax swipes before Lampik’s head was severed from his body.

Påhl Larsson Lampik’s head and body parts were nailed up on poles along the old road from Luleå to warn people of the consequences for murder. These body parts hung there for several months and were finally taken down and buried in the grounds nearby. Murderers were not allowed to be buried in “blessed” churchyards.

Photo: “Exectution Hill” as you approach central Jokkmokk along Rt 97 from Luleå-Boden

In Jokkmokk, the place of execution is somewhere at the top of the small hill, which the road from Luleå follows as one approaches the central part of Jokkmokk. Still today, people in Jokkmokk always refer to this slope as “Execution Hill”.

References: Tingsprotokoll, Jokkmokks Dombok 1822
Norrbottens Hembygd för Tidskrift 1924, Häft 3
Döds- och Begravningsboken 1823, sid 60 rad 3

PS- Sorry this was late coming. I had/have very much to do just now. My apologies!

… was never really outstanding as an influential and productive mine. Yet, it did play a small role for the Luleå Silverworks and the total, but bleak, production of silver and lead. Already at the 1660 start of mining production, Sweden’s monarch and the silverworks had always been interested in finding new and lucrative deposits of precious minerals and dispatched a few special Saami “silver hunters” to criss-cross the mountains of Sarek and Padjelanta in search for new silver veins to be mined.

But, Kvikkjokk and the smelting works had their problems. Not only was it difficult to find skilled laborers for the different routines and responsibilities for separating and smelting tasks, but the Saami “silver hunters” were afraid of retaliation from their peers for showing were new silver deposits were to be found. One such Saami man was Pagge Andersson and, apparently being quite poor, he discovered a silver vein on the south side of a mountain called Alkavare. Pagge reported this to the head mine inspector of Kvikkjokk and was rewarded with felt and a silver mug. Thus, the Alkavare Silvermine came to life in 1672.

Photo: Like a deep cut in the rock, the remnants of the Ulrikes Mine from 1672 can still be found at Alkavare in Sarek National Park

Obviously, other Saami of Tuorpon Saami village were very angry with Pagge Andersson showing where new silver ore could be found. His find meant that more Saami would be conscripted into labor and forced to transport goods and ore for Luleå Silverworks. Punishment was handed out to Pagge Andersson by Tuorpon members.

They gave Pagge a new name and put a curse on him and his family. Forever after, Pagge and his future family would be called “Grufvisare” or “shower of mines” and Pagge’s decedents could only live in a small area of the mountains designated to them. A curse was put on the Grufvisare family, whereby the family name and all family members related to this name would die-out after seven generations. (True: the last sister in the family passed away in Gällivare several years ago)

With the start of the Alkavare Silver Mine, housing was built for the some 5-7 miners, but in some cases up to as many as 35, that would live and work the mine. With this, a work house was built to protect workers and ease the burden of separating rock from silver ore during the long winter and which came from the nearby mine holes of Collegie Mine, Ulrikes Mine and several other smaller mine holes.

Naturally, the Alkavare Mine didn’t profitably produce silver as was even the case for the Silpatjåkkå Mine and these two mines were abandoned by Luleå Silverworks in 1702. Afterwards, a few private entrepreneurs mined Alkavare but, again, without any satisfying results. Even in the late 19th century, Alkavare was subjected to mining by small time prospectors without any influential change of results.

Photo: The Alkavare Chapel in Sarek National Park and with an interesting history of its own

Today, the original building foundation and work house foundation can still be found at Alkavare and close to the chapel there. The larger mine holes and remnants are along the Kainai Stream, just to the north of the chapel, or down at the Mielätnö River at its start. It’s a beautiful spot and they say the sun always shines on the chapel. By the way, the large hole just near the front of the chapel is actually an older mine hole but is called the “coffee pit”, because tradition allows for coffee to be made there during the summer services held in the chapel each year.

Photo: Documentation and cataloging of the work house at Alkavare Silver Mine in 1993 by the research project “Old Mines of Jokkmokk”. Notice how much snow is covering Kainai Stream at end of June compared with the first photo (above) in this article.

Hiking: To get there requires several days hiking. The straightest way to hike there is from Staloluokta and almost in an eastern direction and the southern area of Alavare Lake and onwards to Alkavare Lake. But, to cross over Mielätnö River requires using the boats that should be placed at the mouth of the river. Caution: these boats are not always there or available! (Check with cabin wardens at Staloluokta or the church in Jokkmokk) You cannot wade across the river and must otherwise take an alternate route.

The safest way to get to Alkavare is northwards from Staloluokta along the Padjelanta Trail, across the bridge at Arasluokta then follow along the northern bank of Meilätnö River. About 4 days hike, but you’re on the right side of the river.

Next: Time-out from mines. Let’s learn about Jokkmokk’s Execution Hill and the winter market of 1822

…then the story of the older silver mine of Silpatjåkkå, nestled in a seldom visited area of Padjelanta National Park, could very well have close similarities to today’s Jokkmokk. It’s a story of false hopes, egos and deceit and a dependency to subventions to keep it alive, though the inevitable downfall and abandonment fastly approached. Silpatjåkkå’s story is a 40 year old rise and fall with complicated details and many actors involved, but let’s briefly look at what it was all about…

Firstly, in the 17th century, Sweden had dreams of becoming a great power and was trying to establish a personal Scandinavian empire by attaining control over Finland, Russia, parts of Norway and other Baltic regions through its Great 30-year War. Secondly, we have to keep in mind that Europe’s economic theory during the 17th century was that of mercantilism. With the costs of warfare abroad and the need to be a key economic figure, the discovery of new silver mines, which increased economic values, within Sweden’s territory was a solution to both of these needs.

So, it wasn’t so surprising that, after a small invasion on the Nasa Silver Mine and its destruction by invading Norwegian troops in 1658, that King Karl IX demanded that new silver deposits would be searched for. One Saami scout, keenly knowledgeable of the mountains, the terrain and how to search for precious metals spoke about a new stretch of silver in Jokkmokk’s mountains. The man was Jon Persson, a Tuorpan Saami, and the place was “Kietiewarri”, or what was later to be named “Silbbatjåhkkå” meaning “The Silver Hill” in Saamish.

Photo: The Kamajokk Stream gave energy to the smelting works at Kvikkjokk.

A state owned, or royal, company was formed called Luleå Silverworks and was responsible for and in control of Silpatjåkkå and its exploitation. Needing a mining foreman, the earlier mining foreman from Nasa Silver Mine, Isak Tiock, was chosen and sent to the Jokkmokk mountains to start working the prospect. Buildings, smelting ovens and forges had to be built and all this saw the birth of the little village of Kvikkjokk. Here was an ample supply of trees for charcoal and rushing waters for power to drive a water wheel.

The journey to Kvikkjokk was by foot and a series of rowboats. To get to the silver mine, hiking for the workers, horseback for higher ranking people and reindeer with sledges were the more common means of transportation.

The workers were conscripted in the same manner as soldiers at the time. They came from the eastern seaboard of northern Sweden and sent inland to work as miners. Many who were conscripted and were wealthy, paid themselves free of duty by sending someone less advantageous in their place. At the silver mine itself, a dwelling was erected for the miners, who spent most of the winter working in the open mine shafts or pumping out water in the summer months.

The Saami were also conscripted into serving the mine. They were paid for their transportation services, using reindeer and sledges to haul needed supplies to the mine and silver ore on the return trip back to Kvikkjokk. Some wealthier Saami, too, could pay themselves free from duty, sending a replacement for themselves, or many just escaped duty by going to nearby Norway.

Photo: A cast iron stove from the 1770’s at Silpatjåkkå

Whatever the situation, both workers and Saami had difficult working conditions. Both were to receive wages in the form of felt, sugar, tobacco etc. but the first few years showed that no one was getting paid. Isak Tiock, the mining foreman and known for his harsh treatment of the Saami at the Nasa Silver Mine, where he dragged Saami under the winter ice until they were willing to work or,more often, died of pneumonia, had refused to pay the miners and Saami of Luleå Silverworks and Silpatjåkkå. He cheated them out of their wages and kept this for himself. It wasn’t until after a royal commission visited Kvikkjokk and inspected the conditions there that he was fired from his job as mining foreman, charged and taken to court for his actions and eventually was jailed. Afterwards, both miners and Saami were paid in full for their work.

Through the years, many royal commissions were sent to Kvikkjokk to inspect the mines and the the king’s investments. Almost with each commission, requests for more money were given and more capital was poured into Silpatjåkkå silver mine. In 1672, another mine was opened in Alkavare and increased the investments. At its best, the Sipatjåkkå Silver Mine produced only some 550 kg of silver and 1500 kg of lead over a 40 year period, which ended in 1702. A small fortune for the times had been invested in the Silpatjåkkå Silver Mine but, in comparison, very little had been gained and the whole venture was an economic tragedy.

After 1702, several other private entrepreneurs gained rights to mine silver in Silpatjåkkå. Abraham Steinholtz apparently did some work in 1745 and Prof. Jonas Meldercreutz seemingly worked the mines in 1769. Small scale mining interests were shown in the late 19th century, though not necessarily for silver but for other minerals. Some companies are documented and others were unknown “wild cards”. Many came to Silpatjåkkå and went away with shattered dreams of easy riches.

Photo: Hedwigs Mine from late 17th century as it looks today

In the early times of Silpatjåkkå, whoever was involved with wanting to resume mining at the place were granted a general tax relief, but no one could ever make the silver mines profitable nor economically in balance. Was a tax relief a motivation for interest in Silpatjåkkå more so than actually working the mine? As from the beginning, Silpatjåkkå would always be dependent upon state aid or other subventions for its survival. The village of Kvikkjokk had as many as some eighty people living there in the late 17th century. Now, there is only a handful of permanent residents and the village struggles without real signs of progressive development.

It should be added that Silpatjåkkå has been an object of historical interest and research since 1993. The research project The Older Mines of Jokkmokk, founded by Kenneth Awebro and Tim Senften, has successfully carried out extensive archival and field research of Silpatjåkkå and has found new information about the silver mine and its historical significance. The larger mine holes are still there, but new evidence has been discovered showing that a greater exploitation, than what was earlier thought of, has occurred. The original building sites from 1660 can easily be found together with the mine holes at 1250 meters above sea level.

Hiking Tips: A long days hike from Staloluokta. No direct path; use map and compass and follow the eastern side of Viejevagge Valley. The mine area is given on the BD10 map. Often foggy and poor weather at that height above sea level. Difficult to find a level spot for a tent. Please- this is an important heritage place so don’t disturb anything and pick-up/take-out all scrap!

Next: Alkavare Silver Mine- a complement to Silpatjåkkå

…officially started with a declaration from, at that time, the Swedish King Karl IX. Officially? Because there is no written evidence that can show a practice of having markets in Jokkmokk before this year, although it is quite probable. A market provided an opportunity for gathering, paying taxes, doing a census of the inhabitants and gave a reason for baptisms, weddings and any court or judicial work.

In 1632, silver was found in the Nasa Mountain region near Norway and was Norrbottens first silver mine. It was a privately owned venture, from owners in Piteå, and acquired a reputation of being harsh and unjust with the Saami, who many were apparently forced into labor to help with transporting silver ore.

Photo: Older mine hole on Ruotevare as witness to Norrbottens very first iron mine from 1638

So, it wasn’t so strange that during the 1638 winter market in Jokkmokk, a man by the name of Hans Fillip Lybecker was found walking the path through the old market area of Jokkmokk. He was the regional mine inspector working with the Nasa Silver Mine. Imaginably, he was dressed in a wolf skin winter coat and wearing reindeer boots common for the Saami in winter. Perhaps, too, he was clothed in a wolf skin coat tied in the middle with a knife belt and carrying a pair of skis on his shoulders. Or, had arrived from Luleå by way of reindeer and sled?

However the situation was, Hans Fillip Lybecker was in Jokkmokk. He was waiting for a supply of goods that would be further transported to the Nasa Silver Mine. And not so unlikely, he was sitting in a dimly lit, but warm, dirt hut on Dalvatis Hill, in the middle of the bustling market place, staring into a candle on the table and sipping from a small flask of home brew to keep extra warm with, when two Saami unexpectedly rushed down into the hut searching for him.

As these two stood in front of Lybecker, they held in their outstretched hands a few large rocks. Hans Lybecker took the candle and held it closer to get a better look at the rocks and, to his amazement, found them to be iron ore. He asked the two Saami, “Where did these come from?” They explained that they had found the rocks on a hill some twelve kilometers south of Jokkmokk. The hill had a Saamish name. Kiälmä Åiffde, or Kielm Oiwe, meaning “Iron Hill” it was called and there was more of the rock to be found.

Next day, Hans Lybecker headed south for Kielm Oiwe Hill together with several other Saami who followed to help him. When having arrived, the Saami shoveled snow away from the ground and more iron ore samples could be gathered. It is always bitter cold and very dark during winter market in Jokkmokk and coldly unwelcoming in the nearby forests.

Hans Fillip Lybecker sent these samples by courier to Stockholm and Queen Kristina, who was the head of royalty at the time. She decided that this was an exceptionally rich find of iron ore and sent word back to Lybecker that she would grant tax privileges to anyone interested in mining the iron at “The Iron Hill”.

Photo: searching for ore using the bonfire method from early 16th century

And, there were people interested! The richer citizens and farmers of Luleå, at that time Gammalstad or “The Old City”, wanted to exploit the iron in Jokkmokk that coming summer. Hans Fillip Lybecker would keep an eye on their progress and report this to Queen Kristina. The citizens and farmers were very enthusiastic with their attempts to mine the iron out of the ground, but they had no experience with mining and found the work very difficult. Seemingly, they were working the ground with ordinary axes trying to hack-out the iron ore in this manner.

Lybecker reported that the work was difficult for these Luleå citizens. The citizens worked the hill next coming summer, 1639, and finally gave up. Either because it was too much work and not enough profit or that Jokkmokk was too far from Luleå or… We don’t know more than they just gave-up and stopped working. Besides these notes, that Hans Fillip Lybecker wrote about this iron mine attempt, there exists a handwritten map showing where Kielm Oiwe can be found and how to get to it from Luleå.

This was the very first iron mine of Norrbotten. Many others came after and tried their luck at mining iron south of Jokkmokk. Among these could be mining adventurers like Regement Commisioner Olof Uneus, from Boden, who knew about “…Rutivare in Jockmock” and Carl von Linneus wrote about the iron ore in his Lapland travels of 1732. Prof. Jonas Medelcruetz or Abraham Steinholz was probably interested in Ruotevare’s exploitation in the 18th century as well as baron Samuel G. Hermelin och Jon Engström in the 19th century.

Photo: signs of prospecting from early 18th century

Lastly, there were many claims for Ruotevare during the 20th century. This time, not for iron but for deposits of feltspat and quartz. These were shipped by train to the smelting works in Porjus.

The last work done on Ruotevare was in the early 1950’s, when mine owner A. Thelin was killed. As he was climbing up a ladder, the charging caps he had in his back pocket accidentally exploded and he was rushed to the small hospital in Jokkmokk where he died. Today, there are plans of making Ruotevare into a nature reservation, but the remnants of over 350 years of mining still remain as an historical reminder for the residents of and visitors to Jokkmokk.

PS- A detailed historical account with remnant examples and cataloging results from research on Ruotevare can be found in a still unpublished report (2005) that Norrbottens Länsstyrelsen, Kulturmiljöenhet has. Call and ask about it! I can’t understand why they have difficulties with making this available to the public i.e. taxpayers? (Could it be that it is so well done, they just want it all for themselves?)

PSS- Today, February 1, 2008, I found a copy of the Ruotevare Report in the mailbox. Seemingly the report will soon be published on Norrbottens Länsstyrelsen website as well as hard copies can be had after it goes through the printers. Hats off for the regional government?

…have, in comparison to other parts of Sweden, a unique history. Yes, the silver mine of Sala, the copper mine of Falun and many other mines in southern Sweden can be older or larger, but, for being in Lapland and in an isolated area such as the Laponia mountains, Jokkmokks mining history is filled with a historically interesting and significant past.

As people progressed northwards in their search for a new life, some of the very first Swedes to push into the northern inland areas were miners and prospectors. Many of these came and went, but some stayed on after mining adventures and became the first settlers giving birth to small villages that still exist today. But, the story of searching for natural wealth and new settlements starts even longer ago. In the blog pages to come, let’s take a look at this past and briefly touch upon the stories of Jokkmokk’s older mines. To give a short but decent picture of these mines and better understand the story, we must first travel long ago back in time…

Photo: Jokkmokk’s and Laponia’s older mines take us into an exciting past

There were a lot of exiting things going on in Western Europe after the fall of Rome in the early middle ages (500-1000 A.D.) and a time when people started to move and explore more of the known world. One popular group at this time where the Vikings and one Viking king was known to have ruled over most of the northern Norwegian coastline and as far inland as the regions of Lapland. This was King Othere from Hålogaland. During his rule, he had declared that he had sole rights to all land between the Atlantic ocean and eastwards into Russia and he had the sovereign right to tax all inhabitants. In this case, the people living in this area were the reindeer breeding Saami.

Throughout history there are people taxing other people and either used force or cunning to reap in personal wealth. With the start of King Othere’s taxation on the Saami people, other groups of people believed they, too, had the right to tax the Saami during the next few centuries. These people were from Finland or eastern Russia and consisted of several groups, all doing trade with the Saami. The more popular of these unorganized groups were called “Birkalar” and were for centuries freelancing entrepreneurs selling their talents to collect taxes for different heads of state as they did trade.

During the 16th century, the Swedish King Gustav Wasa also proclaimed his right of ownership for all land between Russia and “the western sea”, or the North Atlantic, and entered into a contract with the Birkarls to collect taxes from the Saami for his part. Afterwards, the Birkarls worked for other Swedish royalty up until King Karl IX, who started free markets in the north of which the most popular was the Jokkmokk Market in 1604.

To pay taxes, the commodities that the Saami had at hand were natural goods. Furs, dried meats, fish etc. were the most common but, because of the Saami’s unique knowledge of the land and mountains from centuries of migration, they also knew about the value of pearls from freshwater mussels (Margaritana Margaritifera) and the clear quartz of Sweden called “Swedish diamonds”. A very small group of Saami even specialized in finding and collecting these two valuables and it isn’t unbelievable that freshwater pearls and “Swedish diamonds” were used to pay taxes. The latter, “Swedish diamonds”, was used as a substitute for flint to start fires with or flintlock weaponry.

With hundreds of years of taxation and the knowledge of the value of the “Swedish diamond” or quartz and its uses, it seems highly likely that the Saami paid taxes with quartz and mined small amounts of this in areas of Northern Sweden; among these near Jokkmokk in a place called “the iron hill” or Ruovddeváre in Saamish.

Next: Ruotevare- The first iron mine in Northern Sweden

…incident, I continued hiking along the northern side of Miellätno River, passing the reindeer worker’s cabin, where the border of Sarek National Park begins, and making camp for a third night a few kilometres south of this landmark. The weather had now changed and rain showers were going to be with me that night as I laid in my tent with thoughts of the next coming day when I’d pass the Alkavare Chapel.

The chapel itself has its own story and is a well-known landmark of Sarek. The chapel is a ways up from Miellätno, sitting on a small shelf of a hill, and just a few hundred meters south from the Kainaij Stream, or according to the new Saamish spelling on the newer maps, Gáinájjågågsj. (With all respects for another culture’s language, I’m more used to the old maps than the new ones)

I poked around along Miellätno, looking for signs of Saami having stayed in or used the area on their migrations, and diagonally worked my way upwards along the slope of Lánjekbuollda and up until I came to the same level as the chapel. Now, as I approached Kainaij I was thinking of the best place to cross it. The stream was thick and there was plenty of water as it went through a deep ravine.

Photo: Remnants of silver mining in 1672 at Alkavare. Alkavare Chapel is in upper right-hand corner.

It was here I happened to look up and looked around me. With a little experience, one learns to tell when the ground area is natural or has been disturbed in some way. Small telltale signs of things that aren’t a natural phenomenon are often obvious to sharpened eyes.

For me, standing on the northern side of the stream and having the Alkavare Chapel a few hundred meters on the other side, I immediately noticed that someone long ago had apparently been digging holes in the ground. The holes were very evident and the age was determined by the lichen growth and wear of the rock. And, I stood there thoroughly amazed at what I was seeing and not knowing anything about these holes. Who dug holes in such an isolated place? Why did they do this? Was it the Saami and these were hunting pitfall holes? How did these happen? When did this happen? What happened afterwards?

The questions just flew in my head. With backpack off, I walked around and found more holes and more disturbed rocks and a huge ditch that was dug out of the side of the ravine and another hole and…and… Signs of something having happened were all over the ground and I was completely absorbed with these holes in the ground.

Although it was a little tricky, I managed to cross Kainaij Stream and climb up the steep bank only to find more holes and disturbed rock and even a foundation from a stone building. After looking at the map, I now saw that this area was designated as a mining area, but when and how this happened, I wanted to know the whole story.

Photo: Foundation of a building from 1672

Because of this first experience of a mining area in the mountains, I couldn’t let it rest. Once back in Jokkmokk, I went to the library and searched for as much information as possible about that mining area in Sarek. Finally, several years later, I met Kenneth Awerbro, who had written a detailed history book about the first silver mines in the mountains. We started our friendship with a common interest…old mines…and the last 15 years have allowed me to research these mines giving me more and more answers to the questions I first had at Alkavare in 1988. My interest in older mines has only increased since then.

So, after finally getting around to the subject, I plan on writing about these mines and a brief history of those which were important and influential for the early development of Jokkmokk. The very first mine in Jokkmokk is from 1638 and is Norrbotten’s oldest known iron ore mine. An interesting story concerning the small hill south of the town of Jokkmokk called…Ruotevare or “Iron Hill” in Saamish.

…almost at anytime. A solo hike in 1988 had unexpectedly given me two things; a fantastic memory and the development of something I never would’ve believed would have such an impact on me for future years. Allow me to explain the first.

Working together with two other people on a project to rediscover possible campsites of an older Saami migration route, just one of many that often snake themselves through the mountainous passageways and valleys of Sarek and Padjelanta, I was asked to photographically document possible campsites or reindeer milking pastures along the way. I had never hiked alone nor been in such an isolated situation before and I felt anxiety for my safety and testing my “solo” mountain skills, as I prepared for my departure.

After arriving in Staloluokta with one of the last Cessna airplanes used in the hills before helicopters became common, I headed out towards Arasluokta and made camp for the night. Next morning, I veered eastwards, after crossing the bridge, heading in the direction of Alkavare hiking along the north bank of the Meillätno River.

Photo: Alkajaur Lake in Sarek National Park and start of the Meillätno River

I had trouble sleeping that second night. The August weather was hot and hiking in hot weather requires drinking a lot of water. I woke up in my tent, sometime in the middle of the night, and heard an uncommon slushy noise coming from the river nearby. I listened. It wasn’t a reindeer passing because that sounds different. So, I got out of my sleeping bag and opened the front of the tent to take a look.

The sun is under the horizon at this time of the year, but it still gives plenty of light in the evenings. I looked downstream for the sound and saw a moose, a cow, moseying along near the riverbank and pulling up grass and chewing it as she peacefully worked her way upstream. She didn’t seem to have a care in the world that night and, for me, I drank some water while I watched her pass by and eventually closed my tent and went back to sleep.

The next day was a little cooler and with a north-westerly breeze, making hiking much easier. I started out and, when it felt necessary, took off my pack, sat on the ground up against a rock and made a morning stop along the river bank. I like to look around a lot when hiking. I get acquainted with my surroundings this way instead of rushing and not seeing things.

At this particular moment, sitting against the rock and both legs stretched out in a crossed manner, a Bluethroat landed on my right boot. Just like that and without any indication given, I had a beautiful mountain bird standing four feet from my nose on the tip of my boot, wagging its tail and looking at me as if to say “good morning”. It was there for what seemed to be a long time and I really enjoyed his visit and courage. But, things must end and he flew off on his own adventure.

For me, I continued to sit resting and studying the hill across from me, on the opposite side of the river from me.

Doing this, I noticed some dark thing running fast diagonally downhill. “Well, wha…”, I thought, and took my binoculars hanging on my neck to get a better look. Running down the hill was the moose cow I had seen last night and she was going very fast. Catching up to her and hot on her hooves was….a bear!

I followed the incident with my binoculars. The bear was getting closer and closer as they both came downhill and closer to the river bank and brush across from me. As the moose entered into the brush, the bear was right behind her. The brush slowed the moose down giving the bear the advantage of the situation. And, more suddenly than one would expect, I watched the bear jump up from behind onto the moose and, holding hard onto her back loins with his paws and claws, tackled and dragged the moose down into the bushes. Both disappeared.

I saw a lot of rustling in the bushes, but everything went very quicklt and soon these stopped moving. For a long time I sat there and waited, watching for any movement, but there was none. As I watched, I realized how swiftly the chase, and then the kill, happened. I was awed with how fast the bear could run and the strength and power he had when pulling the moose down to kill it. And, to have sat there alone and be a witness to the whole event was something I felt almost blessed with.

I don’t have any pictures of this. I didn’t have the time to open my pack and get my camera. It was over with so quickly. In afterthought, it’s sometimes wiser to just observe than to take pictures. Also, I was glad I had the Meillätno River between me and the bear.

And, ever since that day, when I think of watching the bear kill a moose in the mountains, I often wondered if not the Bluethroat on my boot was trying to talk to me and prepare me for what I alone would see. Unforgettable!

PS- Coming up/ The start of older mine research

…is a subject that too few people in Lapland take even a breath of a moment to think about. Ever since the 16th century, when Gustav Wasa did his famous ski trip to become the first king of Sweden, skiing has been a so dominating means of travel in the country that consideration for an alternative has been out of the question. Skiing has always been the root to effective and reliant winter travel in Lapland. So much so as the development special ski museums dedicated in preserving hundreds of years of Swedish ski culture nostalgia and development. But, what about snowshoes in Sweden?

Photo: The toes of a touring ski are easy to entangle in low-lying forest brush or thick birch tree growths

Basically, there is no snowshoe tradition in Sweden. Without greater research, snowshoes came about with the horse. With thick and heavy snow conditions in wintertime, people found it necessary to provide their horses with better footing. Otherwise, horses would sink to their stomachs as they pulled sleighs through forests. These first snowshoes were wooden rectangular creations with leather bindings that criss-crossed around the horse’s hooves and were just minimally larger than hooves.

Later, as the forest industries advanced, workers cutting trees during wintry months would otherwise wade in deep snow without some type of snowshoe. They used small rectangular shoes, bent upwards at both ends and strapped on with a toe and heel binding. These had been developed years ago by the military and basically have held the same design up to and into the 1970’s. They largely looked like “modern” horse snowshoes and were not popular because they weren’t very effective. Better with skis!

Comparatively, skis are great in the open and treeless terrain, such as the higher mountain areas, and with these conditions prove to be a quicker transportation method. Depending upon different snow conditions, skis of different width and length are appreciated. For example, the longer or wider a ski is, the less you sink in loose snow. And different bindings provide different varieties for individual preferences.

But, skis have their problems. One is just the fact that a few different lengths and widths are necessary for changes in snow condition or terrain. With too short or thin skis one can sink deep in snow just as easily as without. Skis should be waxed for the conditions of the day. Wax wrongly and you will easily slide backwards when attempting an uphill journey or need to put on/take off, what I call, “sealskins”. (sorry, I forgot the correct word for these things that attach to the toe of the ski and underneath to provide a grip)

Just using skis in thick lowland forests give problems. The upturned toes of a ski are very easy to get tangled into brush and thick wooded areas and one has to continuously plan very short routes for the best results and not get entangled or, dread, break-off a ski toe while balancing a slight downhill route in thick spruce forest.

So, let’s be honest! A touring ski in lowland forest terrain with changing snow conditions, needing correct and daily waxing, having to choose an appropriate route with not too much uphill nor downhill and a straight line to manoeuvre along… doesn’t allow for an enjoyable outing and are like having two sticks stuck to your feet. They often are just a “necessary” big pain-in-the-butt!

Photo: Snowshoes or Swedish touring skis? The skis have a length of 8 ft and are commonly found in Sweden

Ah! Then let’s consider an alternative…the modern snowshoe!

Now, why do I use “modern” snowshoe? After having lived in Maine, I had the opportunity to learn about snowshoes from that snowshoe culture having plenty of snow. For snowshoe romantics, the wooden framed and leather laced traditional type of snowshoe fits the romantic’s dream image. But, most of these traditional shoes are poorly stringed, or laced, and nowadays don’t hold very long. Maine outdoors people are changing to modern snowshoes due to the lack of competent makers. You have to find a snowshoe maker that knows how to lace them correctly with the right material. Besides, the good quality snowshoes cost an arm and a leg! Too little demand, too high of price!

Then, there is an array of modern snowshoes with varied degrees of practical use and quality. In Sweden, a type of French-made snowshoe is being marketed by most companies. Snowshoes are marketed using the Alps or Mount Everest image trying to attract, what I would call, buyers with little-experience-in-the-outdoors or “wannabes”…possibly even the romantics, who just like the look of a pair of snowshoes hanging on their house porch.

My purpose here is not to start comparing different brands and makers but rather to promote an alternative to skis; if even with a combination of both for appropriate conditions and purposes

The snowshoe I’ve been experimenting with is an aluminium and synthetic shoe made by Tubbs. My boots are a traditional L.L. Bean brand. The snowshoes were second-hand through an Internet site. They are an earlier model Eclipse and not made for my body weight nor the conditions I had wanted snowshoes for very loose and new snow deeper than 90 cm and with a 17 kg. backpack.

And here’s something important! Firstly, when considering a snowshoe, consider your body weight, pack load and the normal snow conditions you’ll most likely to use them in. Secondly, find snowshoes that can be temporarily repaired to keep functioning (wire, string, rope, old jeans) should these break in extreme isolated terrain. Then, whatever manufacturer you choose isn’t that pertinent! Mainly ordinary consumer expectations such as material reliability, cost and quality or back-up when something goes wrong are satisfactory expectation demands on manufacturers. Don’t go for the first plastic-made constructed snowshoe that the local sport store has on its shelf! Do a little research!

Photo: Be smart with choosing snowshoes and choose for your body weight and usage

I’ve used my Tubbs snowshoes the past few months with different snow conditions and must say that snowshoes impress me as an alternative. Yes, I sank in loose snow in the beginning, but I knew I had under dimensioned equipment. So, that’s O.K. And, as the snow conditions changed and the layer compressed, I found snowshoes working better in the forests around Jokkmokk.

But, what really impressed me with snowshoes was in the thick spruce lowlands near the Västerbotten mountains! Snowshoes aren’t very long and are much lighter than skis. Having compressed snow with a slight crust, I found it to be a piece of cake walking in this terrain. I didn’t break through the snow. I had no problems with uphill climbs. I purposefully walked across deep ditches and really thick birch areas, places where snowmobiles would think twice about, and all without the slightest problem. I never got stuck in thick brush. I did not feel intimidated with walking “bowlegged” but walked almost normally and only tripped over my own feet…once! I do think the bindings must be better, but I have an earlier model so…!

With this experience, I will continue to test my snowshoes and continually compare these with my Swedish touring skis. But, for now, I’m impressed with their compatibility to the lowland forests of Lapland and being outdoors during winter. They are well worth trying and hopefully can change Lapland traditions. Snowshoeing in Lapland can truly be… a walk in the park!