We were advised by others not to make the journey, but chose not to heed their advise and continued anyway. We probably travelled only around 100m before we realised the stupidity in our decision. We could see nothing, not even the next stick on the marked trail. Realising the error of our decision, we hurriedly turned back to Tuvahytte. I think those present were all pleased to see us return, especially Aileen. We then spent the next few hours staring out of the window desperately hoping that the weather would clear in time to allow us to get to our train, but increasingly coming to the realisation that it was not going to happen. I think Aileen took pity on us and eventually arranged for her husband, Peter, to ferry us to Ustaoset on his snow scooter.
We jumped at the opportunity, but it was hardly a easy ride and I think Peter forever regretted his decision to take us that day. The journey of maybe a couple of kilometres seemed to take forever. The snowscooter 'capsized' on a few occasions, tipping us off and into the snow. Several times we got bogged down in snow drifts and had to dig the scooter out. Hanne was terrified, as I would probably have been if I wasn't too busy being concerned for both Hanne and Peter, who was himself do no spring chicken. Eventually, Peter got us over the hill behind Tuva and into the valley at the bottom of which lay Ustaoset. As soon as we were over the hill the weather cleared so we hopped off the scooter, said our thank you's to Peter, and skied down to Ustaoset, all the time worried for Peter and his return journey, alone, to Ustaoset.
When we eventually arrived home we wrote a long thank you card to Aileen and Peter, later receiving a lovely reply from them. It was for this reason that Aileen and Peter remembered me and were happy to welcome me back, particularly as I had now brought my children with me. On talking to them, it transpired that after Hanne and I had left the hytte that day the weather only worsened and nobody else left for three days, so we had been lucky. For one that we had managed to get away and for actually having survived!!
This morning though was a much different prospect. Our train wasn't until 3.05pm, so we had plenty of time and decided to explore the students overnight snow caves once we had finished a leisurely breakfast.
The snow caves were really quite impressive and, I have to say, I was a little envious of the students who had had the opportunity to be taught all these methods of outdoor winter survival. The three teachers that were escorting the teenagers, who surprisingly elected to sleep and eat in the hytte, were a mine of information on outdoor survival and were more than happy to impart their knowledge and give us a tour of the snow holes. When it was time for them to leave we bade farewell to them as they headed off on their onward journey to Krækkja.
It was with a heavy heart that I re-packed my rucksack this morning because I knew the holiday was coming to an end. I had treasured the time I had spent in the mountains with my son and daughter. This wasn't a sea and sun holiday with family members running off to pools, beaches or bars. This was 24/7 in close proximity to each other, and if you have taken the time to look at the size of the bedrooms, you'll know what I mean when I say CLOSE proximity. Yes, of course, such a holiday is hard work at times, skiing 20+kms a day with 10-15kg on your back, but to me the satisfaction is complete when the day's journey is finished. The satisfaction that you have challenged yourself and achieved your goal. It doesn't have to be a huge goal, as shown by our two smaller tours from Finse, you just need to be realistic and only attempt something that is actually achievable. Each day brings its highs and lows, the highs of the amazing panoramas you are constantly surrounded by on the Hardangervidda and the odd low or two when your thighs are burning on steep inclines or your pack is dragging you down. The highs of seeing your children pushing their comfort zones and achieving so much. Suffice to say, it had been a wonderful time for me in the mountains and, I hope, for Sean and Emma too.
Okay, so we couldn't resist it, we delayed our departure so that we could have one last waffle each. Truly, if you are ever within a hundred kilometres of Finse, make the effort to go that extra distance and try one of Aileen's waffles. I tried all I could to pry the recipe from her but, alas, it is a closely guarded family secret.
Waffles finished, plates cleared of every last crumb, we don skis and head off toward Ustaoset.
We started ascending again as soon as we left Tuva, but I knew it was only going to be a short climb before a long descent to Ustaoset. As we crested the last rise, we looked down into the valley to see trees for the first time in a week and the small dots of scattered houses in the town below.
The descent was looooong and steep, I think we all experienced at least one fall. Trying to slow yourself down on such a steep and narrow track on thin skis is a lot trickier than on Alpine skis, and it is still a skill I haven't quite mastered. We descended 278 metres in pretty quick time down to Ustaoset and all the time were presented with quite an incredible view of the other side of the valley.
We arrived at the railway station in Ustaoset with plenty of time to spare, so used the washrooms to have a bit of a freshen up and change into some "fresher" clothes. As we waited for the train, so it began to snow, which was for some reason a rather fitting end to the adventure. The train journey back to Oslo went without mishap and was just as mesmerising from a scenic point of view as last weeks journey unless, of course, there was hot pizza in the offing!
The four hour journey went smoothly with us arriving at Oslo around 7.15pm.
A short walk took us to the sea front from where we caught the number 70 bus to Manglerudsveien and Hege's apartment. As luck would have it, the bus stop we got off at was right next to a Jokers store, so we made a quick shopping trip to pick up a couple of Grandiosa pizzas, Norway's most popular meal, and for Sean and I a couple of cans of our favourite Norwegian beer, Ringnes. A short walk took us to the apartment where we showered, ate and, dead on our feet by now, had an early night.
