The Story of a Solo Ski Adventure
“Norge På Langs 2018” The length of Norway on skis…
Chinese philosopher Laozi: “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step”
When people think about ski-touring, most of them think about the Alps. They imagine leaving the pisted boundaries and skiing un-groomed snow in quieter valleys. Perhaps they dream of crossing that col on the distant horizon and linking days with overnight stays in rustic mountain huts. Hopeful of finding their own quiet corner of mountain wilderness, away from the bustle and clamour of everyday life. Most people imagine alpine skiing, or as some friends have carelessly called it in my presence, “Normal Skiing”.
I am a passionate Nordic skier. The sport has had me hooked ever since I was first introduced to it through military ski racing. It combines grace, agility, endurance and power to create a free-flowing raw athleticism which makes you feel incredibly alive. Nordic skiing has helped me keep a healthy mind and body and has gifted me intense moments of joy. So it should come as no surprise that when I think of ski-touring I often think of the wide open spaces and rolling mountains for which the Nordic platform was first designed, I think of Norway.
Norway is a very long country, sparsely populated and very mountainous. Though the mountains may not be as high as the Alps, or as steep, they have retained a wilder character and often feel more remote, particularly in winter. Whole valleys, entire mountain ranges remain locked in snow, timeless, frozen and bereft of human habitation until spring returns to release them. The greater demands of the winter environment can create an intensely absorbing challenge, reminding us how connected we are to nature. A bond and recognition too easily lost in the sanitised construct of modern living.
There is a strong tradition of ski-touring in Norway, focused around Easter when it seems the whole population heads to the hills. The Norwegian equivalent of the Alpine Club, the Norwegian Trekking Association (DNT - https://english.dnt.no) supports and promotes this and is the custodian of a vast network of mountain cabins scattered throughout the country.
In 1956 a group of Norwegian Scouts were the first to make a continuous journey from one end of Norway to the other on foot. They completed it during the summer months in the form of a relay of different teams. Since then it has become established as one of Europe’s finest long distance treks. More recently people have started to attempt it in winter on skis. The Norwegians call this journey “Norge På Langs” (Norway by land). The concept of a journey made on foot, without mechanical assistance from one end of Norway to the other.
One of the most charming aspects of this journey is that there is no fixed route, nor style in which you have to do it. You choose how you engage with the challenge, whether you travel alone or with friends, what route you take and how much distance you travel each day. So it isn’t just a physical and mental challenge but a logistical one too. There are numerous options and choices to be made about how to link a logical and safe path through over 2,500km of wild and mountainous terrain.
Mahatma Gandhi : “Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.”
I have always felt drawn to the idea of a journey. Driven by a curiosity for what can be discovered along the way more than a desire to arrive at destination. And the idea of completing this one has been slowly taking shape in my mind since I first heard about it fifteen years ago. But a journey of this length needs time to complete it, and despite being confident about my endurance capacity on skis I knew that I would be wise to set aside at least 100 days.
Over the years I have studied maps, discussed with friends, trawled the internet for information and cold-emailed people who have completed it, in order to build a picture of what my best strategy for success might be.
After long deliberation I decided to travel alone. As a Mountain Guide I am always evaluating and managing risk but I make decisions for the group as a whole; for the safety and enjoyment of my clients. This winter I wanted the freedom to make decisions concerning my condition and capacities alone.
As soon as I committed to this decision it excited me. Every problem, every hardship, every set-back and every fear I would encounter I would have to own it and find a way through. I wouldn’t be able to share the trail-breaking, or digging out the huts or take turns fetching firewood or snow for melting. If I didn’t do it, it wouldn’t get done. Similarly, if I was scared, or unsure, lonely, sad or happy there would be no-one to share the emotions of it all with either. I was curious to see how I would face up…
I also decided that I didn’t want the toil involved with towing a pulk (sledge). So I would need to carry everything I needed in my rucksack. I tried to pack as light as possible whilst still being self-sufficient and prepared for an emergency bivouac.
I planned to ski hard and cover good distances when the weather was favourable and sit tight when I thought the weather was dangerous. I aimed to use the extensive DNT hut system combined with hotels and private huts and in the areas where such accommodation was not possible- just to ski very long days to make it possible!
One of my main concerns was very strong winds. Rolling Nordic terrain offers little shelter from fierce winds, and movement can be made impossible at times. Strong winds make skiing physically harder as you are buffeted around and knocked off-balance, which increases the energy loss from wind-chill and often makes micro-navigation much harder (particularly if combined with cloud and falling snow).
I know from experience that whilst skiing in the Norwegian mountains it is essential to always have enough clothing and equipment to survive an emergency bivouac should the weather suddenly turn against you or you encounter a problem. Of course this meant that my rucksack wasn’t as light as I would have liked. I always carried a goretex bivvi bag, sleeping bag, thermarest and roll mat together with a gas stove, pan set and several days’ worth of food. I’ve estimated that my rucksack weighed between 15-18kg depending on how much food I was carrying.
Many of the other hazards that I could potentially face such as whether I would have enough snow to complete the journey, whether the temperatures would be low enough to freeze the hundreds of lakes that I would have to ski across… whether it would stay cold enough to keep them frozen all the way to the finish… whether my body would hold up to the strain of skiing such distances day after day… whether I would cope with my own company for such a long period of time… and so forth, all these fears and concerns I was very aware of but also knew that in terms of preparation I couldn’t really do much about them. Except to be ready to fight for the journey when it required and also be prepared to let it go if life dictated for whatever reason it really wasn’t meant to be. Sometimes judging the fine balance between those two choices is one of the most difficult decisions we have to make. I felt before I set out I had looked at this potential decision and come to some sort of peace with it inside. I felt that when that moment came I would know what to do.
When I set out on the 14th January, although I hoped for a safe and successful journey, I was therefore very aware that I could encounter conditions or circumstances that might prevent me from completing it. By choosing to travel alone, I knew that the level of my engagement was higher and that might reduce my ability to push through difficult conditions. As it turned out I was incredibly fortunate to experience some of the best snow and weather conditions Norway has seen in recent years. Many Norwegians I met along my journey called it “a normal winter of 30 years ago”, meaning plenty of snow and cold. During my traverse I experienced some of the coldest and continuously cold conditions of my life (several weeks between minus 30 and 40degrees C!). The winter was also marked by remarkably few days of very high winds. That isn’t to say I didn’t have bad weather, but I rarely had to sit tight because of it. This meant that in the 82 days that it took be to reach Nordkapp I skied for 73 days, with only 9 days where I rested, sat out bad weather or fixed problems I encountered (broken boots!).
It has been one of the most memorable, continuously uplifting and significant challenges that I have ever undertaken. Each day of my journey was extraordinary and satisfying in some unique way, and I am grateful for each of them, no matter how difficult or unpleasant certain sections seemed at the time. They are now quite happily woven into a very special place in my memory.
Norway is a fascinating and beautiful country. The people who I met along the way, who welcomed me, advised me, helped me and encouraged me, made my passage more than just a physical one. I have made many new friends, and although it may be some time before I get to see them again, they will remain one of the best parts of my journey.
Every journey at some stage comes to an end and mine finished physically at Nordkapp, when I took off my skis for the final time and lifted them above my head for a photo in front of the famous globe monument. Inside me, that journey continues. The first winter snowfall reminds me of this incredible experience. It remains the most prolonged period of happiness and purpose that I have ever known; countless days of breath-taking views, deep physical and mental satisfaction and a profound acceptance that whatever the future held for me that this experience was enough.
Looking forward I find myself brimming with new energy and joy about how to share my love of Nordic skiing with a wider audience. Just as I said to myself on so many occasions whilst skiing the length of Norway in the winter of 2018… “This is amazing… I love Norway… love snow… I love skiing! “ and I loved skiing the length of Norway!
Thanks to @tania.noakes for sharing that story of adventure with us.
We really appreciate it x
Excited for some cross country ski now? We are!! Join us in Norway this winter for an adventure to remember, including cross country ski coaching from one of Tania’s pals.