Nordkalottleden nord. Fall tour from Abisko to Kautokeino /  by Arne Bischoff

For me, fall is the best time to visit the Scandinavian wilderness that I so love. It is often sunny, dry, with gorgeous autumnal colors but no mosquitos. So that’s when I usually come. Fall 2025 saw me do a self-supported solo hike through the northern part of famous Nordkalottleden – or Nordkalottrutta in Norwegian. The whole trek is several hundred kilometers north of the Arctic Circle and wild, rugged and for long stretches really alone. Nearly 400 km over 20 days across Norway, Sweden and Finland. Fjell, moor, countless rivers to cross. And for the second part of the trip: wind, wind, wind.

Countless border crossings

Crossing borders in the Nordics is easy as pie. I cannot remember how often I switched between the three countries. Some painted heaps of stone or a signpost marks the switch. No more. At famous Treriksröset near Kilpisjärvi all three countries meet.

The grave of Anna – the black she-bear – at Rallarvägen.

Svarta Bjørn

The first few kilometers after Abisko lead over the famous and quite well trodden Rallarvägen (Norwegian: Rallarvegen) that remembers the hardships of building the railway tracks of the Malmbanan (Norwegian: Ofotbanen) up here in the subarctic wild. Kari Bremnes dedicated her wonderful record “Svarta Bjørn” (The black she-bear) to the memory of Anna, the cook of a brigade of workers and one of the female pioneers of the industrialization of the Scandinavian north. I took the opportunity to visit Anna’s grave.

Birds in their habitat

My Leica binos – courtesy of Orniwelt – next to the famous Norwegian trail marking “T”.

My friends at Orniwelt – in my books the best store for sport optics in Germany – hooked me up with a compact and lightweight, but optically excellent binocular as a loaner. A Leica Ultravid HD Plus in 8x32. Saving weight was crucial on that trip, where I had to carry food for two weeks before I could resupply, as well as all the other gear I need to survive alone outdoors. The binoculars proved to be an excellent travelling companion. Lightweight, but sturdy with superb optical and build quality alike. It allowed me to marvel at a European golden plover (Pluvialis apricaria) in full breeding plumage that still was incredibly well camouflaged up in the Fjell. I saw my first Long-tailed jaeger (Stercorarius longicaudus) – a real flagship species up north. Ptarmigan – both rock (Lagopus muta) and willow (Lagopus lagopus) – were a far more common sight. And of course, the humble lemming (Lemmus lemmus) – pillar of the ecosystem.

Endless, awe-inspiring landscapes

Me. Happy!

But of course, the real star of the tour is the landscape. Walking so many hours alone in this kind of environment really opens your mind to nuance and detail in this astonishingly big and wide open landscape. The tree line up here sits at about 400 to 500 meters above sea-level. For me, this is part of the magic of this landscape. The Scandinavian Fjell provides endless open spaces only interrupted by river valley full of ancient but small birch trees or down in the sheltered valleys of Norwegian Øvre Dividal national park even primeval pinewood. Yet color is everywhere. Not only the leaves of the birch trees glow in thousands of different yellows, oranges and reds. Bushes and shrub like blueberry or crowberry are at least as colorful.

Everything about this place always brings me back. The subarctic landscapes of the far north of the Scandinavian peninsula always make me happy.

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Photos, photos, photos (click to enlarge)

To make the images more managable, I divided it roughly by stages of the trek.

From Abisko to Innset

Øvre Dividal national park to Kilpisjärvi

Käsivarsi wilderness area to Reisa national park

What's the story? Autumn glory! /  by Arne Bischoff

Why do you think I like fall and its colors, textures, images? That’s why!

Oh deer! /  by Arne Bischoff

Mid August I met a very inquisitive young roe deer: It was very late in the evening. I had been sitting well hidden in the tall grass and shadows on the edge of a clearing in a local wood for quite some while, when first a doe (the female roe deer) appeared on the clearing to feast. It eyed me and then without much hesitation went out in the open grass space. A little later, the buck appeared. At first, he did not notice me at all. But when he did, the magic started to happen.

Meeting a very inquisitive young buck

The young buck approached me like an inquisitive young dog. At first in a straight line and with a resolute pace that showed his determination to figure out who I might be. The closer he came, the more he slowed down his pace.

The young buck directly approaching (Click to enlarge).

The “Flehmen response” (Click to enlarge).

Then he came to a halt: Scenting, trying to get my wind, looking. He approached closer. Stopped again. Approached again, until he was only a few meters away. All the while I sat and waited. Since I was sitting at the ground, I was not taller than the animal. True eye-level. He seemed ponderous. Should he approach even closer or back off? Would his inquisitiveness win or his caution? He approached me even closer, backed off a little, barked at me and then approached again. I had no choice but to wait what he would decide was best for him. Backing off myself would have ment to get up and surely scare him away. The young buck was flehming, trying to really get my scent then one last time ventured closer. Stood still, turned around and went off to eat in peace and quiet. I sat and watched really happy for another 15 minutes and then really slowly and cautiously backed off. It was a beautiful experience.

The young buck barking (Click to enlarge).

Gallery (click to enlarge)

My first... Sociable lapwing /  by Arne Bischoff

For every birder, scientific ornithologist or pure hobbyist alike, it is and always will be special to see, identify and observe a new species for the first time. The German birding community calls this - in a beautiful amalgamation of an English word with German grammar - a “Lifer”. A first observation in ones lifetime.

A male Sociable lapwing (Vanellus gregarius) in full breeding plumage.

I had the pleasure to be the Sociable lapwing (Vanellus gregarius) my latest “Lifer”. A male in full breeding plumage payed Central Germany a visit in mid March. In Europe, the Sociable lapwing is an extreme anomaly. It breeds far eastward in the steppes of Central Asia and winters in the Indian subcontinent respectively. The Sociable lapwing lives up to its friendly name, often forming close groups with other related birds. In the absence of fellow Sociable lapwings, “my” Vanellus gregarius teamed up with the Northern lapwing (Vanellus vanellus), which is the common species of lapwing in Europe. How he came here is not known to me. Might be a week of strong(ish) eastern winds that blew him here. He did not carry a ring or some other form of ID that would tell about his long journey. But I don’t care. Today I am a very happy birder.

Spring is here /  by Arne Bischoff

Early March, with temperatures rising, I set out just do hang out a few hours in the sun, listen to birds and to nothing. On my way back, when the sun had just set, I found the first early bloomers in the most gorgeous of evening light. Mainly Spring Snowflake (Leucojum vernum) and one single Liverleaf (Anemone hepatica).

Hair ice /  by Arne Bischoff

What is Hair ice?

So lofty!

Hair ice (also known as ice wool or frost beard) is a quite rare natural phenomenon. It forms from moisture inside dead or rotten wood and not from general humidity. The ice has the form of incredibly fine, silky white hair. It is only around 0,02 mm thick, about a quarter of the thickness of a human hair. And it is so delicate that once you touch it or even breath on it, it collapses. That said, Hair ice is incredibly soft and feels surprisingly warm to the touch.

I personally find it incredibly beautiful.

Hair ice only forms under very specific circumstances. There needs to be the slightest of frost with tempeatures just below 0° C in humid conditions. It must not be too cold, or the whole wood freezes over. It must not be windy, or it breaks down. Hair ice only forms in parts of the Northern hemisphere and only in deciduous forest. It does not form on bark, only on bare wood.

Thankyou, fungi!

As soon as 1918, German meteorologist Alfred Wegner assumed a fungus as catalyst for the formation of Hair ice. About 100 years later, in 2015, the fungus Exidiopsis effusa finally has been identified as key to the formation of Hair ice.

Humans have not yet find a way to reproduce it.

Home of the Hair ice. A beech forest in the Harz mountains.

Hair ice forms on dead or rotten wood and is incredibly delicate.

At the North Sea (winter ed. with zeitweise.art) /  by Arne Bischoff

Introduction

October and November have been two months of photographical inspiration for me. Late October, I visited the wonderful annual nature photography festival at Lünen, hosted by the German Society For Nature Photography and home to the European Wildlife Photographer Of The Year, one of the most prestigous competitions there is, and the equally impressive membership competition, GDT Nature Photographer of the Year. I visit “Lünen” every year since quite a long time and I love everything there. The lectures, the exhibitions, the people and the meeting of old friends. And it inspires me. The word has become quite trite and trivial in the last few years, and I don’t use it lightly. I often struggle withe my own fascination for photography, more often not even taking the camera with me, but only my binoculars.

To add onto the inspiration and to learn, I went for the photographic double-feature and on a “zeitweise”-workshop directly after Lünen. Jan and Hermann of zeitweise.art have established themselves as creative pioneers in the European nature photography realm. I have been following them for quite some time now, hearing talks, bought a book and watching their Youtube. It is their collaborative, inclusive and down-to-earth approach that really got me in. Learning to see and photograph what’s in front of you rather than travelling to Antarctica. Representing what you see in an artistic way that conveys a spirit, a mood, a tone rather than hitting the holy Instagram-trifecta of sharp, close-up and colorful.

Admittedly, this is a longish introduction. But it sets a tone, too and it might help you understand the imagery on this blogpost.

At high tide, thousands of Dunlins (Calidris alpina) rest at the beaches of Baltrum.

Baltrum (An island in the Wadden Sea)

North of the German mainland lie the East Frisian Islands within the Wadden Sea. Baltrum is the smallest of the seven main islands. The whole area is entirely dependent by the tide. At low tide you could walk the ten kilometers to mainland Germany. At high tide, you feel the power of the North Sea. During bird migration, the whole Wadden Sea area is the resting place of around 12 million migratory birds. And with low temperatures and strong winds in late October, early November, there is not a lot of tourism. One up: There are no cars allowed to the island. It’s a breath of fresh air and so liberating. Baltrum was the perfect canvas for a week of nature photography.

European herring gull (Larus argentatus) with a crustacean in its beak.

Birds

When you are on an island like Baltrum during migration season, birds are a natural motive. Purple sandpipers (Calidris maritima) and Ruddy turnstones (Arenaria interpres) shelter from high tide at the north end of the island. Thousands of Dunlins, Red Knots (Calidris canutus), Eurasian curlews (Numenius arquata) and other waders doing the same at the westernmost beaches. White-tailed eagles (Haliaeetus albicilla) and different kinds of harriers hunt while small arctic songbirds like Snow buntings (Plectrophenax nivalis), Horned larks (Eremophila alpestris) or Redwings (Turdus iliacus) gather some well needed strength for their further journeys.

Waves

When at Sea, make sure to photograph waves. Large ones, small ones, fast shutter speeds, slow shutter speeds, crashing waves, calm waves. Do waves!

Scapes

Sunset over the Wadden Sea at low tide.

I usually use the term “scapes” as a more abstract form of still life. Could be a landscape, seascape, cityscape or an abstract macro. Luckily, the island was full of such visuals. Sunsets over the Wadden Sea at low tide. Abstracts of the sea or seashells.

Woodlands

Crouching birch trees, impressionistic style.

Amidst the island of Baltrum, well-hidden between the large sand dunes is a very small but beautiful forest. All the trees crouch down and low. As long as they are not growing too tall, they are protected from the wind by the larger dunes. If they grow too tall, the merciless wind takes over and bends them into even weirder shapes. And those trees lend themselves very well to some experiments with ICM-photography (intentional camera movement).

Workshop wrap-up

Me and the Dunlins. 📷 zeitweise.art | Instagram-Story

It has been a great week. The workshop-setting worked well for me. Hermann and Jan were wonderful guides, well prepared with a lot of tasks and a lot of time to be creative; great feedback, friendly, solidaric and on point - which set the tone for the whole group: collaboration is key. And it was great fun. Highly recommended!

More:
https://www.zeitweise.art/workshop
https://www.instagram.com/zeitweise.art/
https://www.youtube.com/@zeitweise

Heather 💜 /  by Arne Bischoff

I have been born in a region of Germany that is famous for its vast fields of heather. When the heather is blossoming in all its vibrant purple glory, it is really wonderful to behold. Enjoy “Lüneburg Heath”!