All great adventures start with a few minor mishaps. After a cancelled night train and a series of sweaty overnight buses and replacement rail services across Germany and Denmark, I reached an Accidentally Wes Anderson bistro cart and finally had a chance to catch my breath.
I sat back with meatballs smeared in lingonberry jam, and watched the Swedish wilderness and my Much Better Adventure grow ever-closer.
Disembarking the train at a tiny station in central Sweden's woodland, I met my campmates – six other like-minded adventurers who liked the sound of camping amongst the footsteps of moose. We were here to disconnect on a long weekend of wild swimming, wood-carving, foraging and wolf and moose-tracking.
As our adventure began, we found ourselves winding through untouched paths until we reached a clearing, framed by a hushed lake. I claimed my tent overlooking the water before settling down for our opening campfire. Going round in a circle, Simon, our guide for the trip, asked us each to share why we were drawn to the trip and what we were hoping to get out of it.
The anticipation of being so close to the wolves made me feel like a true explorer.
For me, it was a chance to build my confidence swimming in the wild. For Matt, a keen photographer, it was to get better photos for his family’s annual Christmas present – a wildlife calendar consiting of photos from his travels. For Dusty, it was to be more present. One thing that united us all was our desire to get closer to nature and further away from our digital devices (cameras excluded!).
Across the three nights, we cooked all of our meals over the campfire. Part of the ethos of camp was working together. We would rotate duties: chopping veg, stirring and seasoning the pot, collecting firewood and foraging for berries and mushrooms. Breakfast was a simpler affair – oats, fruit, and coffee with a crema made by stirring a burning log into the kettle. The coffee filter was a sprig of pine pushed into the kettle’s spout, which made us all feel very Bear Grylls.
Our first night at camp was pure magic. After gorging ourselves on sausages, beans, bread and fruity Swedish cider, we set up the sauna tent (yes, really – a stove and chimney in a tent-like contraption, fit with a bench and flooring). We climbed into the cool water and paddled under the starry sky, marvelling at how just yesterday, we were stressing about delayed flights and workplace dramas. There would be no room for that amongst the Swedish pines!
We emerged from the lake streaked in mud and foliage – bog monsters, realising we would have to embrace the lack of showers for the weekend. Just before settling into our tents for the night, we heard distant howls – standing in starstruck silence (and bursting with excitement), we stared at Simon. His eyes lit up, “guys, this is going to be a great trip – this is the first time in eight years we have heard the wolves from the camp!”
We climbed into the cool water and paddled under the starry sky, marvelling at how just yesterday, we were stressing about delayed flights and workplace dramas.
Morning broke and we swapped stories about howling wolves in the night. I have to admit, I was a little spooked knowing they were so close as I lay in my tent alone.
We read our books, made breakfast, chopped wood and whittled butter knives, before Simon gave us a crash course in wolf behaviour and how we would track them. We learnt about pack behaviours, coats, diets and scat. Simon warned us that we were unlikely to see a wolf across the weekend, but that we were lucky to have already heard them, and that this was a good sign for the weekend ahead.
Each day, we set out on silent walks through the forest and bogland, so as not to alert the wolves to our presence. Tiptoeing over snapping branches and sinking up to my knees in boggy water isn’t what I usually get up to at the weekend, but the anticipation of being so close to the wolves made me feel like a true explorer.
Simon encouraged us not to take too many photos (I did take a few, as you can see!) and being truly in the moment, listening for sounds of nature and smelling the wild herbs and plants around us, allowed us all to genuinely switch off.
After walking for usually about an hour (and marvelling at how Simon wasn’t getting lost – there were no signposts or clear paths this deep into the forest), we would set up a mini camp for the next few hours.
Generally, we would be looking over a valley or a lake, binoculars in hand, silently surveying the landscape in front of us and trying not to get eaten alive by mosquitoes. The mozzie spray wasn’t always enough. My biggest tip for anyone who does this trip (right decision, by the way!) is not to just rely on insect spray – wear proper walking trousers rather than leggings, and have a buff at your disposal.
We soon learned that Simon can do an incredible wolf howl, mimicking the cries of pups and adults, in the hope that they would call back. What made our first twilight expedition even more special, though, was that the wolves yelped and cried from the other side of a valley without Simon’s intervention.
Before heading back to our tents, we would do a nightly moose drive-by, with Simon flashing lights through the forest in search of one of these elusive creatures. Incredibly, he spotted a family of eyes peeping through the trees and we watched through a scope at mum, dad and baby moose chilling in a clearing.
Our final night arrived far too quickly and after some free time swimming in the lake and lounging in hammocks, we gathered firewood and set up for dinner at another stunning lake. We ate the most delicious wraps, cheeses, salty crackers with jam, and cinnamon cakes, before doing a final moose walk – we didn’t spot any moose this time, but we did find some beautiful mushrooms and had far too much fun trying to get the perfect shot for Matt’s calendar.
As the night drew darker, Simon told us that for our final night, we would be taking part in a ‘howl-by’. This would involve driving to various locations, Simon howling into the forest, and waiting to hear for a response. If there was no response, we would drive a little further on and repeat the exercise. We did this twice to no avail, wondering if the wolves were going cold on us for our final night.
We soon reached the final howl-by spot, and on Simon's signal, we undid our seat belts and silently slid the doors of the van open before hopping out, A-Team style. As we stood as still as the silhouetted pines, Simon howled into the forest. We held our breath. The stars glinted, distant lightning flashed.
After what felt like a lifetime, the wolves finally howled in response – adults and pups yelping into the night. We walked to the edges of the cold, dark lake and there, we saw the fresh paw print of a pup, wet on a stone.
Despite only being a three-night trip, wild swimming and tracking wolves and moose was truly a weekend of a lifetime.
Inspired by Gemma's weekend of wild? Check out our Wolf Tracking and Wild Swimming Adventure in Sweden. With thanks also to Matt Cole for a couple of the images.