SAMAYA x MATHIAS STEIDEL

 

 

Dive with Mathias Steidel and his companions into a Nordic odyssey where the power of nature blends with human ingenuity. Between the thrill of the rapids, the tranquility of the vast wilderness, and bonds forged through effort, this unique adventure redefines the boundaries of the possible.

 

This summer, I answered a call I could no longer ignore. With my two friends Sacha and Esteban, we undertook an expedition in Swedish Lapland. Our challenge: to cross Sarek National Park, one of the wildest territories in the world, and descend the Kaitum River, famous for its rapids. 330 kilometers in total autonomy, between imposing mountains and tumultuous waters. A mix of physical exertion, moments of pure adrenaline, and constant wonder.

 

I have always been driven by the idea of pushing my limits in extreme environments. When searching for the "wildest" park in Lapland, the name Sarek appeared as an obvious choice. But I wanted to go further. Crossing this untouched nature on foot was already a challenge in itself, but I decided to spice up the adventure by adding a packraft descent, using this ultra-light, backpack-portable kayak. When I discovered the Kaitum, a river blending beauty and danger, I knew it was exactly what I was looking for. Even if none of us had any whitewater experience, that’s what adventure is: diving into the unknown.

 

We didn’t set off blindly, however. A day of training with a guide in Briançon gave us the basics to face the rapids safely. A few weeks before departure, we tested our gear during a bivouac in the Drôme: our Samaya 2.5 tent, our packrafts, and our freeze-dried meals. Then came the big day. On the platform of the Lyon Part-Dieu train station, 30 kg bags on our backs, we drew curious looks from passersby. Three days of train travel across Europe awaited us before finally setting foot in Lapland.

 

Arriving in Sarek National Park was breathtaking. After a motorboat crossing to Ritsem, we discovered a landscape that was both imposing and intimidating. Majestic mountains, absolute silence, and a glacial air that seemed to welcome us. From the first moments, a local resident added a touch of mystery to our adventure. From his wooden cabin, he advised us on our itinerary while warning us about the presence of a brown bear in the area. This idea added a small dose of apprehension to our excitement.

 

The first steps into the park were heavy, literally. Our packs dragged us backward and every step felt like a struggle. But the breathtaking landscapes, the deep silence of the mountains, and the vastness around us made it all exhilarating. We set up our first camp on a hill surrounded by glaciers, under a sky tinted pink by the midnight sun. Despite the glacial wind that blew relentlessly, it was a moment of pure magic.

 

The following days followed a well-established rhythm: rising at dawn, oatmeal for breakfast, hiking about thirty kilometers interspersed with glacial river crossings, and bivouacking under the stars. But the crossing of the Rapa Valley marked a turning point. Between dense vegetation and endless marshes, every step became an ordeal. The omnipresent mosquitoes made every break unbearable, turning this arctic jungle into a true mental challenge. Yet, we pressed on, carried by an unshakable determination.

 

The climb toward Skierfe offered us a respite. Leaving the marshes to climb into the heights, we escaped the humidity and found a bit of serenity. Perched at over 1,000 meters, this spectacular promontory overlooks the Rapa Valley. After hours of effort in the rain and wind, a clearing finally revealed a magnificent panorama, rewarding every drop of sweat shed to get there.

 

The descent led us to the Kaitum, where a new challenge awaited us. Descending a river renowned for its rapids, armed only with our beginner training, was both thrilling and terrifying. The first days were marked by rain, endless lakes, and a wind that seemed to want to push us back. But the first rapids changed the game. The adrenaline rose as we navigated between tumultuous currents and "Chicken Passes," those calmer paths we sometimes took to avoid impassable areas. With each portage, we crossed slippery rocks and dense forests, sometimes on the verge of exhaustion. But the feeling of progress made every effort rewarding.

 

One moment remains etched in my memory: a particularly delicate passage where the current formed a real washing machine. Despite the caution, I ended up in the icy water, clinging to my packraft so as not to lose my gear. Thanks to the precision of Esteban, who threw a rope from the bank, I was able to be pulled to safety. More fear than harm and, above all, an adventure I won't soon forget.

 

The final kilometers were a race against the clock. Upon discovering that a bus was waiting for us at 9 a.m. the next day, we gathered our last strength to cover 40 kilometers in one afternoon. The current of the river and a bright sun offered us one last gift, making this final stage almost light despite the accumulated fatigue. In the evening, settled on a roadside rest area, we emptied our last rations in an improvised feast, celebrating the end of our journey.

 

At the end of 11 days, we had crossed 330 kilometers of wild landscapes, pushed our limits, and experienced an adventure that will remain engraved in me forever. More than an expedition, this experience offered me a deep connection with nature and with my companions. I returned changed, with immense respect for this land and a renewed desire to continue exploring the unknown.