The Adventure Begins
So here we are, on a Saturday morning in March 2019, at the dog sled centre just outside Tromsø. The yard is packed with huskies of all sizes and colours, from pure white with piercing blue eyes through to soft browns and even jet black. The one thing they all have in common is their eagerness to get going, to put on a harness and be paired with a human who can take them out for a run. Eventually the trailer is loaded and the dogs are settled in cages by twos and threes depending on size. 16 empty sleds get loaded on top, while a further vehicle takes all our kit. We’re off to start our trek: 5 days to cover a minimum of 200km and I-don’t-know how many vertical feet of forested hills.
There are 12 of us plus two guides and two experienced dog handlers. Each person has to carry their own rations and enough food to keep the dogs fuelled for the duration. Add in a tent, sleeping bag, foam mat, primus stove and fuel, snow shovel, snow shoes and that’s a heavy sled. Which, by the way, the human has to push in order to help when the dogs are going up hill.
My team consists of two boys and four girls. At the back are identical twin brothers Kayak and Canoe. They’re the engine room: lovely big dogs with a light sandy coloured coat. Then in the middle we have Søs (or Sweetie) and Popsicle, who is generally called Wormy because she never keeps still. Popsicle is a naughty girl, who chews her coat at night. So much so that she finished up without any coat at all and had to curl up in a snow hole! Finally, in the lead I have Dolce, a brown dog with electric blue eyes, and Ida, my favourite. Ida is gentle and very obedient – and she loves a belly rub at the end of the day!
Camping at minus 20ᵒC
Aside from one night in a log cabin, accommodation on the trek is in tents: one between two. These tents are double skinned, with a domed sleeping area and a front section for cooking. Excavate a shallow trench between these areas and you can actually sit quite comfortably. Even so, the ground is hard and cold. One night we stop on a frozen river and have to lash the tent to the sleds because the ground is too hard for tent pegs and a storm is blowing up. And when the snow is deep and soft, we have to flatten the surface with snow shoes – or risk sinking above our knees at every step. I’m useless at all things camping, but fortunately my tent partner isn’t so we do have adequate shelter every night.
Water comes from the nearest river or pond. It’s gin clear, but too cold to drink straight off. When the river was frozen we melted snow, getting about a cupful of water per kettle. Food is dry-tech in individual meal packs, just needing boiling water to transform it into something tasty and satisfying. The reindeer stew was excellent. We also had noodles, biscuits, bread, ham, cheese: more than enough and barely finished half of it.
Several times every night the dogs collectively would start howling - all 102 of them at the same time. The noise was deafening, yet after a few minutes they would all suddenly stop, just as if someone threw a switch. Totally weird, but strangely comforting.
The Daily Grind
Because it’s so cold we’re awake early and packing up the tent by 8.00 am. Then the dogs have to be fed and hooked up. First their coats come off and paws are checked. Then the harness goes on and one by one they are hooked on to the gangline. First the lead dogs, then the middle pair and finally the ‘engine room’. As each team is hooked up so the noise increases. Maximum volume occurs when the trail boss starts on his dogs. They are ready to go!! Now you have to hold down the brake to allow for an orderly departure at 15-meter intervals. Of course, once they’re running the dogs never respect this distance so it’s a constant battle to slow the team and keep them under control.
The day usually concludes around 4pm, sometimes earlier, so we can pitch tents before dark. Dogs come first however: lay out the night chains, unhook the team and transfer them over. Harness off, coat on, and feed. Most dogs burrow into a snow hole and go straight to sleep. They’ve earned their rest.
We crossed a mix of terrain, some very steep (both up and down) and some open plateau with a cold wind blowing snow and ice crystals across the path, as well as several frozen lakes. At one point we were as high as the surrounding mountain peaks; it felt like being on top of the world. The best stretches were through lightly wooded country, descending on marked snowmobile trails. On reaching the half way stage, where we got to sleep in a warm log cabin, the arctic sunset was framed by miles and miles of sparkling snow, sculpted by the wind into fantastic shapes. We also got a (faint) glimpse of the Northern Lights.
Sledding is an active affair. You’re either helping to push up hill, by ‘scooting’ with one leg, or leaning left and right to help steer the sled. On a downhill stretch it’s important to use the brake so the gangline stays taught and the sled can’t catch up with the dogs. But don’t brake going into a turn or the sled won’t respond, and you’ll finish up in a snow drift! Some of the faster stretches were downright scary. Snowmobile traffic leaves the trail rutted and bumpy. Picture this: you stand on one leg, foot on the brake, being jolted up and down, before stepping back onto both runners and allowing the sled to sling shot at speed through the turn behind the dogs. Then repeat before the next turn. Such was the terrain coming down through the woods…. At one point there was a 90 degree turn to go over a wooden bridge. One of my back dogs tripped and would have been flattened by the sled had he not been hauled along by his partner.
Most alarming was the rocky stretch of ground where high winds had blown the snow off to leave an exposed and icy surface. I managed to stay up right: being second in the line I’d no time to react and just clung on hoping the sled would bounce over the terrain. It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t controlled. Others further back could see what awaited them and tried in vain to stop. Carnage ensued, with a runaway sled careering down the rocks minus its driver. Amazing that no one was hurt, at all, at any time. Yes, sledding is definitely one for the adrenaline junkies!
The Ice Hotel
Our trek ended at the famous Ice Hotel in Jukkasjärvi, Sweden. Located 200 km inside the arctic circle, the hotel is built new every year, in about October, and open from November to May. The rooms are all different, featuring different themed sculptures made from … ICE! Beds are covered in reindeer skins and guests receive special clothing to cope with the conditions. It’s a steady minus 5ᵒC, everywhere. In the Ice Bar drinks are served in massive hollow ice cubes instead of actual glasses. Coats, gloves and warm boots are essential. We had a good look around after all the overnight guests had checked out, but didn’t sleep there. Way too expensive and anyway, we’d had enough of sleeping in the cold! .