Derailed in Norway

Posted on by
Reply

Stranded in the mountains, snow falling steadily, a white lunar landscape in all directions. Our train is stalled by the lack of electricity up ahead. I might have expected this in a third world country. But not in Norway.

Molly and Rich in Bergen train station

The journey from Oslo to Bergen is billed as one of the most beautiful train rides. We were there in plenty of time to schlep all our gear aboard and settle into the comfortable seats surrounded by modern conveniences – wifi, electric outlets and windows on the world. The ride was smooth and soothing, even if the falling snow obliterated the long range views of the mountains. It was still the magical trip we envisioned. We could see backcountry skiers trudging through the snow. We had front row seats to the small villages along the way.

Train stopped in Haugastol

Our smug sense of security vanishes at the sound of the announcer's voice as he intones “All passengers please pay attention.” The train soon comes to a halt at a tiny station in Haugastol, where we sit awaiting our fate. Will the power outage be resolved, or must alternate transport be arranged? Rumors fly in the absence of any real data.

The arrival of a bus, followed shortly by others answers our question. Apparently we are in luck, these tour buses are idle in the winter months. We are further heartened to learn that all Hurtigruten passengers are to board the first bus. We are surrounded by other Norwegian ferry cruise passengers as we fill the seats, now confident that we will make our sailing. It helps knowing that the MS Midnatsol does not depart until 10:30pm. The atmosphere is one of amused tolerance and camaraderie, not annoyance. Through our mutual plight we make new friends.

Following the plow

It turns out the bus is only the first requirement for travel. Before we can start, we collect a snowplow which precedes us down the mountain, clearing the snowy roads as we go. We take turns with the vehicles traveling in the opposite direction – with their own snowplow – following the single open lane. It is barren country with few trees and mountain cottages seemingly stranded in the snow, with tree branches “planted” in the snow to show the way to their doors. Progress is slow.

By the time we reach lower altitudes and can release the plow, the road clears but becomes steep and windy. Now we are surrounded by rocky cliffs covered in icy waterfalls. It is dramatic scenery, far different from what we would have seen on the train. We know it is a silver lining.

It takes hours longer to reach Bergen, but no one is complaining. Our transfer bus is awaiting when we arrive, and we board the ship without delay. Our bags are already outside our cabin door.

We have plenty of time to explore the ship, linger over dinner and go up on deck before our departure. In the end the day was all the more memorable for being derailed in Norway.

Molly and Rich leaving Bergen

 

Cruising frigid waters

Posted on by
1

Going on a mid-winter cruise.  Those words conjure up images of palm trees, turquoise waters begging for a snorkel, and brilliant warm sunshine.  It conveys a feeling of escape from all that is cold, frosty and covered in ice and snow.  Such would be the case for any ordinary travelers.  But few have ventured to call us typical.

Our packing list includes heavy down jackets, Steger mukluks (the warmest of boots), mittens, hats and scarves.  We’re also bringing our cross-country skis, boots and poles for when we disembark from the ship.  Clearly, this is no tropical cruise.

We already live in the far north, only 90 miles from Canada.  But this cruise starts well above that and travels North.  Our vessel is classified as an “ice class 1X ship” suited for expedition voyages.  It will ply the waters along a rugged coast and deposit us above the Arctic Circle.  Now doesn’t that sound like great winter fun?

Well, if you are an avid outdoor enthusiast, with a passion for the Northern Lights and night time photography, it is a perfect fit.  This voyage of the MS Midnatsol along the coast of Norway is titled “In Search of the Northern Lights,” and is Rich’s pick for his 60th birthday present.  By virtue of marriage, I get to go along.

Midnatsol outside TromsoThis ship is in perfect keeping with our unconventional travel theme.  It is part of the Hurtigruten fleet and is a working vessel, which provides the ferry service for cars and passengers up and down the coast.  It also delivers cargo and mail to coastal villages.  And it takes some cruising passengers.  With a capacity of 500 people, we won’t be among the cast of thousands that typify large cruise ships.  In place of glitzy shows, we might learn to fillet halibut out on deck.  While many cruises boast an everlasting feast, we will partake of typical Norwegian fare.  Dinner is what they serve, no menu choices.  Fish are frequently featured.  There is no casino on board, instead we will cash in on the gorgeous scenery passing by.  It sounds perfect to me.

Midnatsol map 2Daylight hours will be about what we experience at Christmas time in Duluth – sunrise about 8:00am, sunset at 4:00pm. That still leaves plenty of illuminated hours in which to take in the fjords and ports along the way.  But it’s actually the darkness that attracted Rich to this voyage.  He took great care to book this trip during a new moon, to ensure the darkest skies possible. Scoring clear skies and solar activity to activate the Northern Lights is out of his control, but just being that far north will enhance our likelihood of witnessing a display.

Sleep will not be a priority on this adventure – if there is any chance of an aurora, Rich will be out on deck.  And I will be there right beside him.  After all, that’s the whole point of the trip, to see and photograph the Northern Lights.  As we cruise the frigid waters.

A Tale of Two Ski Races

Posted on by
1

What a difference a week makes.  In the span of a short seven days, the weather did a full 180, rendering my two cross-country ski races completely different affairs.

As the Mora Vasaloppet approached, the weather forecasters had dire predictions for severely cold weather.  I held out hope that in time the atmospheric patterns would change and deliver us from the promised deep freeze.  But it wasn’t to be.  The night before the race, temperatures dipped to -15.  Packing for our early departure to drive to Mora included every warm layer I owned for skiing.  And I mustered my courage for a frigid race.

Molly and Rich before Mora VasaloppetGathering in the Mora high school auditorium, we were surrounded by racers donning all manner of protection.  The best were the moleskin patches custom made for faces, sporting brilliant patterns.  I never knew such existed!  Rich and I carefully scrutinized and selected our layers, then headed for the start line.

The start of the Mora VasaloppetIf it had to be cold, the sunshine rescued the day.  Its brilliant rays shone in a deep blue sky throughout the race.  Combined with the right clothing and plenty of hard skiing, I felt impervious to the cold throughout my 48 kilometer race.

Because of the low snow conditions, the usual point-to-point route was reduced to 12k laps.  The race crew did a phenomenal job grooming what little snow they had, and the cold temps reduced it to a squeaky cold and fast crust.  Looping four times around the course delivered an entirely different feel to the race.  While the fastest skiers are normally long out of site from my middle of the pack position, in this case they were soon lapping me – the fastest doing 2 loops to every one of mine!  As soon as I’d hear the rapid squelch of approaching poles, I knew enough to move to the side to let them fly past.  It proved rather unnerving, at times.  But on the other hand, there was almost a carnival atmosphere, seeing skiers passing in various directions as the course curved and turned back upon itself.

Following a successful finish, I had only a week before the American Birkebeiner.  In that time the temperatures soared, rain soaked the area for most of the day before the race, and it never got below freezing that night.  Could this be the same climate?

This time my concern was how few Birkebeiner starting linelayers to wear.  How little could I put on and still be warm when I begin to tire near the end of my 52k skate race?  Despite the 37 degree temp, the wind felt cold and I decided to err on the slightly warm side.

In typical Birkie style, the chute was crowded as I took my place among the 13,000 skiers that day.  And I never lacked for company out on the trail.  Even though we weren’t looping this time, I was still being continually passed.  Perhaps there is something to this age thing after all.

Molly after finishing the BirkieOnce again the groomers had worked miracles with quirky conditions, but this time the result was slow wet snow.  Ranging from soft to mushy, it made me work for every ounce of glide I achieved.  Downhills were unpredictable, as my speed varied with the ever changing composition of the snow.  But I persevered.  Even through the puddles that had formed on Lake Hayward – a final surprise with only 3k left to go.

Two races.  Two vastly different conditions.  But a single outcome.  Reaching the finish line.  A great sense of accomplishment.  And having a good time.

Caffeinated Throwbacks

Posted on by
Reply

Funny how these things go.  In the space of two weeks, twice I have been transported back in time, merely by the sight of a coffeemaker.  Never mind that coffee is a highlight of my day, sipping its sharp brew through frothy milk with a touch of vanilla sugar on top.  That addiction came long after the memories these incidents evoked.

Molly serving coffee from the percolatorThe scene is a small cabin in the middle of the Gunflint Trail.  My friend Susan and I are preparing breakfast on the first morning of our annual XC ski trip.  We’ve already spent time outdoors, and are looking forward to our morning feast, naturally accompanied by coffee.  I’ve even brought my own deep mug and milk frother to create the perfect morning combination.  Search as we might, we fail to come up with the standard drip coffeemaker.  In fact, the cabin’s accouterments seem a bit slim (what, no wine glasses? the previous night’s discovery).  So it brought a chuckle when we unearthed a percolator.  Who uses those any more?  Will it work with ground drip coffee?  It would have to do.  And given the circumstances, it tasted divine.  Almost anything does after healthy exercise and fresh air, on vacation in a homey cabin.

An old fashioned vacuum coffeemakerMy parents had a percolator later on in life.  I remember its sleek design and shiny surface.  But it was the vacuum coffeemaker from my youth that I identify with their morning coffee ritual.  It was quite the contraption.  Two bulbous silver orbs, one mounted above the other with a “glass rod” that sat in the slim tube that connected the two.  Water in the bottom, coffee grounds in the top.  As the water heated, it rose up past the glass rod into the top sphere to mingle with the coffee grounds.  Once it cooled, science and gravity would flush it back down again with an audible “whoosh,” leaving behind the soggy grounds.  The coffee was done.

New Siphon-BrewSo imagine my surprise.  I sit at the counter with my laptop at my favorite local coffee shop, Amity Coffee.  There in front of me is what looks like a science experiment.  A bunsen burner sits under a round glass flask connected by a narrow tube to a cylindrical container up top.  Sure enough, water in the bottom, coffee grounds on top.  Today’s modern version of that relic in my childhood home.  It even has a trendy new name – a siphon brew – and a fancy price tag to go with it, running from $60 to $200.  I doubt those who order this specialty have any idea that they are drinking coffee from an old-fashioned contraption.  Nor does it matter.  I’m the one who has gained more than just ambiance from my morning perch.

Who knew that a morning spent with a latté would yield such caffeinated throwbacks?

Skiing – and so much more

Posted on by
Reply

For twenty four years in a row we have maintained our tradition.  Without fail.  There have been years of sickness, but we overcame it.  We had small children at home – five between us – but still we escaped.  Snow failed to materialize, but we went anyway.  Jobs were stressful and demanding, but we left them behind.  A lot has changed over the years, but Susan and I still get away for our annual cross-country ski weekend every year.

This year’s venue was Golden Eagle Lodge, on the north side of Bearskin Lake on the wonderful Central Gunflint Trail Ski System.  We stayed in a lovely cabin aptly named “Trailside” and took full advantage of our proximity to the 70k of XC ski trails at our door.

It wasn’t long before the weekend’s unique qualities began to reveal themselves.  And as each new challenge presented itself, we coined a new term.  It seemed better than complaining, and far more fun.

IMG_2363Adaptability  It’s the characteristic needed when things don’t turn out as expected. Like the gas fireplace that ceases blazing after the office closes at night.  And your figure out it’s the only source of heat in the cabin.  Or when the enormous clumps of snow that once graced the tops of the pine trees melt enough to fall, creating tree avalanches that obliterate the ski trail with icy mounds.  Or topple weakened trees across the trail.  It’s the turn-on-a-dime trait that comes in handy for revising ski plans to take advantage of trails that have been groomed in favor of those still coated in refrozen snow.  It’s figuring out how to use a percolator when you’ve only ever made drip coffee.

IMG_2365Lurch  This is what happens when the snow gets warm and wet, and ices up the bottom of your skis.  It creates a huge snowball underneath your foot, which effectively stops all forward progress.  Your body lurches forward with the momentum of your former glide, while your ski remains firmly planted in the ski track.  And an inane sound escapes your lips as you try to regain some sense of balance (and lose all hope of retaining any dignity).

IMG_2360Perseverance  It keeps you going when you realize you have chosen an overly ambitious distance to ski given the sticky snow conditions.  It makes you move when you fear you will be finishing your ski in the dark, and your headlamp is still back at the cabin.  It becomes your strength when you are dead tired after dragging your snow-bound skis across the snow (and lurching).  Its mantra sounds something like “think of crisp, chilled Chardonnay waiting for you.”

IMG_2375

Yet for each challenge the rewards were many.  Skiing at sunrise, watching it paint the sky with orange stripes.  Baking in the heat of the sauna, letting our aches drip away.  Sunny days, warm temperatures.  Talking, sharing, laughing caring.  Sipping that Chardonnay.

 

It’s a rare friendship that endures this long.  Perhaps it’s even more rare to keep up a tradition this long.  But we’re unlikely to miss next year’s milestone – 25 years of skiing together.  And so much more.IMG_2381

Anticipation

Posted on by
Reply

Dinner is over.  The dishwasher is humming.  Cookies are baked.  The refrigerator is stocked.  Beds are ready.  And I eagerly await the arrival of our Minneapolis kids and grandkids – a total of seven offspring.  It’s all I can do to stop myself from scanning the driveway, even though I know it’s far to early to see headlights shining and car doors opening.  But it won’t be long!

The occasion – my birthday.  After last year’s grand 60th celebration this is back to normal, but it’s a thrill to know the troops are gathering none the less.  My daughter and son have promised to make my birthday dinner, so Rich is off the hook and I look forward to their culinary prowess.

New bunk bedsMy project since Christmas has been to replace the twin beds in the back bedroom with an arrangement that accommodates twice the numbers.  We didn’t have enough foresight in planning our retirement home to realize just how rapidly our family members would multiply.  To rectify the situation, we turned to our now retired home contractor.  With a little arm twisting, and a lot of measuring and planning, he built us a custom set of double bunk beds that perfectly fit the available space.  They are the sturdiest, most space efficient sleepers ever.  Outfitted with European-style duvets to minimize the pain of making up those upper bunks, they are ready for their first occupants.  Word has it, the two older grandkids (5 and almost-4) have dibsed the top bunks already.

I can’t wait to hug those little ones and to see my kids and their loved ones again.  The weather looks to be perfect for playing outdoors – skating, sledding, snowshoeing and skiing are all great possibilities for kids and adults alike.  Oh the anticipation…

 

 

Snow in Abundance

Posted on by
Reply

When snow declines to come to the cross-country skier, the only reasonable response is for the skier to go to the snow. It doesn’t take much research or experience to know where to find it. The Gunflint Trail consistently delivers on snow accumulation.

The drive up the North Shore is typical. Lake Superior’s warming influence reduces the snowfall near the shore. A leap of faith is required to believe one is indeed headed for significant snow. Turning inland from Grand Marais and slowly ascending the hillside the transformation is not yet apparent. But within a few miles, there it is. Snow. Lots of it.

An island along the Gunflint TrailThe road is snow covered, the only sound the scrunch of the tires as they turn over frigid squeaky snow. The sky couldn’t be bluer. And the star of the show is the forest. A heavy wet snowfall earlier in the winter has covered the trees with huge deposits of snow. This is not your standard Christmas tree flocking. It is deep snowballish accumulations on all available branches. And it is stunning. In case I’m still not convinced, one step outside the car to take a photo lands me in thigh-deep powder.

Unnavigable ski trailWe quickly learn from the locals that the snow is both a blessing and a curse. The blanket of wet snow brought destruction as well as beauty. Bending and breaking trees, miles of trail were blocked and closed. Despite massive efforts to clear the trails, the clean-up work exceeds the available resources in some areas. In particular, the Banadad Trail‘s 28k of ski trail are largely inaccessible, with clearing efforts able to open only seven kilometers on the western end.  Indeed, many fear for the state of portages in the BWCAW.

Our destination is Bearskin Lodge, home of the central Gunflint cross-country ski system with over 70 kilometers of trails and excellent grooming. Fortunately, Bearskin’s trails are nearly all open. Four days of unlimited skiing await us. And so does the cold. Arriving in the midst of a cold snap, we encounter overnight lows down to -19 and daytime highs in the single digits below zero. But the brilliant sunshine and blue skies are more than fair compensation. Donning layers of suitable apparel, we are easily able to enjoy the amazing beauty of the Northland as well as the skiing.

Snowy trail at Bearskin Lodge 1 Snowy trail at Bearskin Lodge 2 Stride after stride delivers more dazzling scenery.  I can’t help but think the tall narrow pines cloaked in snow are the spitting image of Dr. Seuss’s whimsical trees. Seuss-like trees on the Bearskin trailsAnd snowshoeing takes me even further into the depths of the magical woods.

Snowshoeing at Bearskin Lodge Yes, this skier is happy.  With abundant snow on the Gunflint Trail.

Ice at Dusk and Dawn

Posted on by
Reply

It’s been an unusual winter all the way around.  Here we are in our first real cold snap and the lake is still ice free, even along the shore.  Lake Superior was its quintessential blue as I drove up the shore yesterday morning.  And in sharp contrast I spied ice encrusted bushes at the water’s edge, glistening in the sunshine like giant crystals.  The below-zero temperatures had teamed up with a good wind off the lake to create the perfect formula for instant icicles.

Those marvels just begged for a photograph, so I returned at sunset.  Hastily crouching behind the ice sculptures, I tested various angles as long as the light and my cold fingers held out.North Shore sunset ice 1 North Shore sunset ice 2 A fun exercise, it left me wishing for more.  So with crisp and clear skies early the next morning I set out once again.  But I hadn’t bargained for the “sea smoke.”  Overhead the sky was clear, but a thick band of steam clouds clung to the surface and horizon of the lake.  At first I thought my sunrise had been foiled.  But in actuality, it made for some interesting effects.

North Shore sunrise ice 1 North Shore sunrise ice 2 North Shore sunrise ice 3 North Shore sunrise ice 4Never underestimate nature.  Nor our magnificent lake.  Lake Superior ice holds plenty of beauty and surprises at dusk and at dawn.

Outdoor Fitness Center

Posted on by
Reply

Most cross-country skiers heading to Tofte to ski the Sugarbush trail system are seeking the natural beauty of those lovely wooded trails.  With extensive kilometers of well groomed trails, it’s one of my favorite systems on the whole North Shore.

But this time I have other motives.  Faced with yet another snow drought year, I am seriously behind in my training for the Birkie and Mora Vasaloppet.  Each marathon race is over 50 kilometers, and normally by now I would be skiing longer and longer distances to prepare.  But it’s hard to get inspired without snow.  While I should have been out skiing, I was still pounding the pavement in my running shoes.  I was seriously lacked in seasonal motivation.

Ungroomed ski trail at Lester-AmityThe latest snowfall finally fueled my passion.  At long last I could walk across the street and head into the woods on my skis. It was only then, skiing on beautiful new snow surrounded by trees and forest, that I remembered why I love the sport so much.  It all came rushing back, even if my form and technique was lagging behind.  It rejuvenated my soul.

But alas, it was only a taste.  The warm weather and thick wet snow made skiing arduous at best, and foiled the groomers’ attempts to tame the messy snow.  Emergency measures were in order.  Hence the trip to Tofte.

Ignoring the allure of the scenic woodland trails, I don my skis and head up Onion River Road prepared for a good workout.  Unlike the woods, it is wide, has a firm flat surface, no bushes or branches sticking up through the snow, and grooms beautifully.  The air is chilly, so the freshly groomed surface has set up perfectly, delivering virgin corduroy.  I delight in being the first to ski on it.  My skis glide over its surface and I immediately fall into a good strong rhythm.

It is my best ski of the season to date.  It feels so good to push myself, to press through the uphill stretches and work on technique.  I can taste those races, and know I am getting stronger.  At last.

Skiing Onion River RoadThe further up the road I go, the more snow-laden the trees.  The pines tower overhead, a stark contrast against the blue sky.  It is intensely quiet, with only the sound of my skis against the snow and the squelch made by my pole plants.  The wind whips against my face, refreshing as I grow warm with the effort.

It is the idyllic workout.  Clearly this is no Saturday ski through the park.  I am there to train.  To further my endurance and to ready myself for the challenge.  And what a place to do it.  In the perfect outdoor fitness center.Forest Ranger cabin with a warm fire at the base of the trails

Our own Black Friday

Posted on by
Reply

The day dawns bright and clear.  Having laid out a clear strategy for our Black Friday shopping expedition, Rich and I hop in the car.  After the required stop for latte, I’m fueled with caffeine and ready to do battle.

The road to ElyNot content with the local offerings, we make our way to a distant renowned marketplace to do business.  It’s a taxing two hour drive.  The further we travel, the quieter the road.  Barely a car passes.  Soon snow appears – a harmless quantity and just the thing to put us in the mood for this holiday shopping trip.  It clings to a few trees and coats the roadway, barely touched by tire tracks.  Sunlight snakes through the trees and the sky is that winter blue overhead.  All we hear is the thrum of the tires.  Yes, it’s a rough trip.

At long last, we approach civilization.  The streets are navigable and traffic is tolerable.  We wait through a single stop light.  There, up ahead is our destination – and our choice of parking spots right in front.  We ease into a generous space, note the lack of parking meters, and emerge into the sunshine.  Ah, Ely is a great place for our Black Friday shopping.

The store windows are trimmed with evergreens, and attractive displays entice us into Steger Mukluk Co.  We first take time to browse through the merchandise, energized by all the outdoorsy offerings.  There are just enough customers to generate a friendly buzz, with no need to elbow our way through the aisles.  Despite our casual approach, we have one true mission and ultimately make a beeline for the footwear.  It’s Steer Mukluks that we’re after.  The king of warm boots.  What we hope will be the end of cold feet.

MukluksIt takes a lesson and several tries to get the laces right.  Cross them over just so.  Cinch them tightly.  Pull snugly.  But once done right, the boots conform to our feet.  And we’re sold.  Rich dreams of endless hours out photographing the Northern Lights in the snow.  I envision long treks on snowshoes and sledding with grandkids.  All with toasty warm toes.  We make our purchases without hesitation.

Rich shopping in ElyGiddy with our recent acquisitions we walk the quiet main street, meandering in and out of pleasant shops.  We treat ourselves to lunch.  We ponder our real holiday shopping duties and come up with a creative idea or two.  But feel no sense of urgency to fulfill them just now.

The trip home offers more scenic views and I admit to nodding off now and then.  It has undoubtedly been a successful day for us.  Just doing our bit to offset the rest of the world’s shopping chaos on this Black Friday.

Stoney-River-Molly-1Stoney River