With that done, it was time to head off into the wilds. Have I mentioned that both Scott and Amundsen both trained for their Antarctic expeditions in this area? Well, they did, and when you see the landscape it is easy to understand why. The Hardangervidda is the highest mountain plateau in Northern Europe and with it being above the tree line it lends itself to an Antarctic landscape. On the subject of Scott and Amundsen, and this is only my personal opinion, though it IS shared by many academics and explorers, not least Sir Ranulph Fiennes, Amundsen cheated!!!!! That he supposedly won a race with another person, Capt. Robert Falcon Scott, when the said Capt. Scott didn't even know he was in a race, sort of makes a little bit of a farce of the whole situation. That Amundsen had told everybody "in the know" that he was making an attempt on the North Pole adds to the skullduggery, and is most certainly not a very :"British" attitude. Add to all this certain facts like Amundsen buying up all, yes ALL, the trained dog teams capable of making the journey, and it all starts to take on a different light. Yeah, okay, I am firmly in Scotts camp! It's sort of kharma though that worldwide, if you mention the South Pole and Antarctic explorers, it is Scotts name that people come up with. Of course, that could be just because it is easier to remember/pronounce, but who cares?
The above photo is of someone's private hytte, though obviously not often used in the winter season! Note the plastic sheeting tied over the chimney just in case the building is buried that much in heavy snowfall. As far as weather for us was concerned, we were skiing into a very mild wind, which caused us no real problems, but the day was quite dreary even though the sun was constantly trying to assert itself over the cloud cover!
Above is Emma and I skiing along as Sean holds back to take a photograph. Just in front of Emma, who is leading, you might be able to notice a Birch stick or two sticking out of the ground. For those not aware, these sticks are what the DNT (Den Norske Turistforening) use to mark out the winter trails and are a godsend for navigation, as long as they can be seen of course. The trails are checked regularly by DNT staff on snow scooters but in bad weather can either be lost due to poor visibility of having been blown over.
Flying the flag!
Emma, sporting a woolly hat I found on Snowdon in North Wales last year. A good wash and it was as good as new. Waste not want not!
Bearing in mind this was Emma's first attempt at touring on cross country skis, I was as proud as it's possible for a father to be. Not only was it her first attempt at touring, she had only ever skied on cross country skis for three days about 7 years ago. It was clear that she was struggling, especially on the uphill gradients, but she just gritted her teeth and got on with it, apart from one little wobble half way up a hill. Well, they do say "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger". Having said that, I hadn't been out on skis since February last year and it had been a couple of years for Sean since being on cross country skis.
Along the marked DNT routes you will sometimes come across junctions, this one marking the directions to Hallingskeid, Finse and Geiterygghytta:
And on they went, Sean leads with Emma behind as they follow the marked trail of Birch sticks:
The wind picked up slightly as the day wore on and we struggles a little to find somewhere with a little shelter to have our lunch. Emma also needed a "comfort" break. I had bought her one of those strange contraptions called a "she wee", but in the end she decided to forego the intricacies of that simple device and, instead, bare the elements! A couple of large boulders appeared around a corner, giving perfect shelter for both the lunch break and the "other" break, one Boulder for each I might add!
After lunch, it was off again. We were all beginning to flag a little bit, so I was particularly worried about Emma, I didn't want to break her so soon! After lots of false summits, we eventually saw Finse spread below us, the railway station (the highest in Norway at 1222m), the hotel, the frozen lake and, just a little farther, Finsehytte, our destination. It seemed the closer we got, the slower we got and the more tired we became, like we just wanted to drop with exhaustion at the last hurdle. But NO!! We made it!!
We quickly booked in, dumped our kit in the drying room, packs in the bedroom and headed for the long awaited showers. Then it was time to do a little inventory. Emma, in her brand new boots, had not even a hint of a blister, lucky Emma! Sean had just the suggestion of a blister on one foot. I, in my old and supposedly well broken in boots, have a humongous blister on my left heel. I had suffered blisters on such a tour in the past, from the same boots, but following some advice took to wearing women's ankle length tights underneath my socks. The trip I took wearing them was bliss, with blisters being a thing of the past. This time though, I lost one of the pair of tights, so didn't wear anything. Big mistake! As we sorted through all our luggage though, the missing tight miraculously reappeared. Oh well. Anyway, following minor surgery with a Leatherman multi tool, said blister was drained, directed and dressed, and all in time for dinner.
Dinner at Finse was the usual affair or reverting to my school years. Long bench tables seated all those present at they hytte and the host came along instructing people how to collect their food, deposit their dirty plates and ensure the meal went with no catastrophes. And so it was, with the dinner being served with military like precision.
One little luxury we allowed ourselves at Finse, well Sean and I anyway, was a glass of cider from the on site micro brewery. Mmm Mmmmh!!
Following a hearty meal, it was an early night for all of us.
