Category: Norway

We thoroughly enjoyed our time sledging with the dogs but so far as practical travelling is concerned, dog sleds are a relic of another age. These days, if you want to get around in snowy places then a snowmobile, or ski-doo, is the tool of choice. Longyearbyn is stuffed to bursting with them. Back when I worked in Antarctica, the snowmobiles were quite basic. The manual pull-cord made them energetic to start, exhausting at times. They were awkward to steer, slow, noisy and uncomfortable. All this with the great smell of two stroke oil. The modern machine has a powerful four-stroke engine with an electric starter, full suspension, soft seats and heated handlebars. The sitting position and technology have some similarities to a motorbike but otherwise there is surprisingly little in the comparison. Riding a motorbike requires a level of precision and balance. The snow mobile however, just launches off across the snow bouncing and skittering around while heading in only the general direction that you point it. None the less this is great fun. You can easily reach speeds of 50 km/h or more which feels much faster and can be remarkably exhilarating in a sort of hanging on to a wild rampaging beast sort of way.

Our first trip out was north to the top of some cliffs overlooking Tempelfjorden. We each had our own snowmobile and were part of a group of ten riders. The day began with a briefing and introduction to the machines. We got togged up in warm, one-piece suits, mitts and a helmet before walking down a short slope to where the snowmobiles were all ready for us. The group leader was towing a small sledge with safety equipment. He we also equipped with a rifle and a flare gun in case of polar bears. We never got to see any bears on Svalbard but we were regularly assured that there are plenty around. Travelling single file, we set off along some very dirty and well used snow up the main valley. After about fifteen minutes we took a left and headed up into the mountains. Soon we had left all traces of civilisation behind. Just us, the snow, the mountains and the odd reindeer. Over the course of a couple of hours we followed a series of linked valleys until eventually emerging at the top of the cliffs. The view was spectacular. A wide-open stretch of sea with mountains at the far side and a glacier in the distance. Coffee and biscuits appeared from the survival sledge and we spent a good twenty minutes just taking in the scenery and watching a few sea birds. The journey back was uneventful but still great fun. Everyone was getting a bit more comfortable on the snowmobiles so we could pick up the pace a bit.

The next day we went down a mine. Svalbard was a very quiet place for just a handful of trappers and whalers until the start of the 20^th century. Coal was discovered and the mining companies moved in. For while the archipelago was all about mining. Some of the best quality coal in world could be mined here. Mostly found in horizontal seams that were accessed by drift mines cut straight into the valley walls. Today all but one of the Norwegian mines are closed and the last of the Russian mines has almost stopped production. Tourism is the main industry now so quite reasonably, one of the old mines has been turned into a museum. This is not the sort of museum with glass cased displays and little information cards, it is a mine where they stopped working a few years ago. The passages have been made safe, or at least safer, but otherwise things are pretty much as they were on the day production stopped. It is quite dirty inside. We were given overalls to wear and headtorches, so the small group soon started to look like miners. After looking around the workshops and the topside coal handling facilities, we were led down one of the main passages. The coal seam was about two feet thick. From the access passage, the miners would dig into this with coal cutting machines creating a narrow crawl way which was supported by multiple props jacked into the roof. Then they would cut another segment of the seam next to it and then another. Imagine trying to remove the cream layer from the centre of a cake by cutting successive pencil shaped pieces out and working your way across the cake. By the fourth cut they would need to start removing the props from the original cut otherwise they would run out of props. This was the dangerous part because the roof would eventually collapse once enough props were removed. The trick was to not be there when this happened. Apparently, the skilled miners could listen to noise the mountain made as they took the props out and tell from this when it was becoming unsafe. I crawled into one of these seams, hand and knees for about 100m, to get a feel for what it was like. I left with a whole new level of respect for the bravery of miners. And with much coal dust firmly embedded under my finger nails and many other places.

On our last day we took another, longer, trip on snow mobiles. Different company but the basics, a briefing, clothing and the machines, were similar. One major difference, when we set off, was the light was very flat. When the sky is completely clouded over there are no shadows and it can become difficult to judge the lie of the snow-covered land. It all just looks white and a bit featureless. These conditions can be tricky skiing and on a snowmobile because it is hard to anticipate how the land is sloping and changing. We set off a lot faster than the previous trip and I found I had to really concentrate. Diane had chosen to ride pillion with me and this made balancing a little more difficult. For the first hour I think all I did was focus on the snow mobile in front of me, watching to see the shape of the hills and the valleys. Later, as the sun started to break through, it became much easier and far less disconcerting.

We drove eastwards for a good couple of hours before dropping down into a wide valley. At first, I thought this might be a frozen lake. It looked like one, but fact was just a flat and safe valley bottom. Across at the far side of the valley we followed another small valley before emerging at the coast by a hunter’s lodge. Over coffee and biscuits, we were told tales of the trapper that lived there for most of his life along with his wife. The route back involved a short stop at a gully which was fun to climb up and slide back down. We also went up to the top of hill for some lovely views.

Getting up at 4am next day for the flight was not much fun. At Tromsø , everyone needed to leave the plane, with their luggage. We then went through security and passport control to re-enter Schengen before getting back onto the same plane, in the same seats, with the same luggage. I found someone had taken the overhead space that my luggage had previously occupied. Somehow this seemed rather rude. Back in Oslo we collected the car and over the next few days made our way back to the UK.

We had signed up for a three-day dog trip. Next morning, we were standing outside the Coal Miners Cabin, again, waiting to be picked up. Marcel, our guide, met us in a rather battered van then we collected the two other couples doing the trip. There are only a handful of hotels in Longyearbyen and it seems to be normal that excursions include hotel transfers. A couple of miles outside of town we arrived at the dog kennels. The dogs were already keen and excited. Each dog has its own kennel and is chained up so that it cannot quite get to any of the dogs around it. They jumped up and barked a lot. Small when compared to the Greenlandic dogs we met a few months ago. Maybe 25 kg max. They are a cross between several breeds including Greenlandic and Serbian Huskies. Somewhat to my surprise, they were very friendly to humans. Sledge dogs are not pets, they are work dogs and can sometimes be a bit aggressive. These dogs, however, were clearly well acclimatised to being handled.

First job was to get changed into warm padded overalls and insulated boots. Then we had a short briefing about dogs and sledges. Then we were shown how to harness the dogs. The main thing is to keep hold of the dog. They are so excited that if you let one slip it will run off. It will come back eventually but only once it has run round the other dogs, started a few fights and generally caused mischief. Best to hang on to them. Diane and I had our own team of six dogs. Each had its place in front of the sledge. The harness fits around the dog’s shoulders so you must help them step into it. Then there is webbing to help even out the load and fit comfortably across the back. From the front of the sledge there is a long gangline, the cable that all the dogs are attached to. A tugline connects the rear of the dog harness to the gangline. This is what takes the load when the dogs are running. A neckline is attached from the dog’s collar to the gangline. This does not take and load but helps keeps the dog organised.

In much less than an hour we were all ready to go. Marcel set off with his team. We were next. Diane sat on the sledge and I stood on the back to control the brake. One of the helpers released the rope at the back of the sledge and we were off. The only control I had was the brake. A claw like affair at the rear of the sledge that you variously stand on or even jump on to control the speed. The dogs simply followed Marcel’s sledge. I did not really have any control over that.

We started off easy. A flat, wide trail that led up a shallow valley and back down the other side. In the thirty minutes it took to do this the dogs settled down a bit, we settled down a bit, everything started to get a bit easier. Then we turned eastwards and set off for a cabin somewhere in the mountains. Both of us started to get into the rhythm of dog sledding, which is really rather lovely. It is very quiet compared to snowmobile. The dogs trot along happily. They really are happy; it is easy to tell that they just love pulling the sledge. It is all they want to do. Even ten minutes or so Marcel would stop to give the dogs a breather and make sure everyone was keeping up. I had to stop our sledge before our dogs got to Marcel’s dogs. Sometimes this would mean really jumping hard on the brake. Once stopped, I deployed the snowhook. This is an anchor to hold the dog team back when the musher decides to stop. It is like a parking break for the dog team — although somewhat less reliable. Looks and works like a ship’s anchor. Theoretically, the harder the team pulls on the snowhook the more the hook digs into the ground. In reality, the team may occasionally pull hard enough that the snowhook will pop free.

A couple of hours into the trip and we were starting to settle into dog sledging. The dogs trot along. It is not very fast although you would struggle to keep up by running. Feels like a nice pace for enjoying the surroundings, spotting a few reindeer and thinking about the explorers of old. Every 15 or 20 minutes we would have a short break. One of us would always have to stay with the sledge and keep a foot on the brake. If the dogs managed to run of with the sledge they could quite possibly go for many miles. They don’t care if the musher is on board, they just want to run with the sledge. Marcel would always set off first. Immediately I had to jump hard on the brake. My dogs would see the lead team leaving and want to be straight off after them. Then I had to reach down and pull up the snowhook. The dogs are ready for this. They are keen to go. They can sense as soon as you reach down and start pulling hard again. Keeping the brake hard on, I stow the snowhook just below the handlebars and then we are properly ready to go. In keeping with tradition, I would shout “mush” at the dogs when I released the brake. This was a bit superfluous; the dogs knew the moment the brake came off and were already pulling hard.

After four remarkably enjoyable hours travelling up a broad, open valley we rounded a corner and spotted the cabin. Diane and I had no idea what to expect and were pleasantly surprised. From a distance it looked modern and comfortable. First, we had to park the dogs. Marcel had tied up his sledge when we arrived. He grabbed our lead dogs and then tied the rear of the sledge off to a large wooden post. Lines were already laid out with a place for each dog so Diane and I could unhook them from the sledge and tie them up for the night. The dogs sleep directly on the snow. They are well used to this and seemed thoroughly comfortable. Dogs sorted we went to explore the cabin.

It was basic. No running water. Heating from a wood pellet stove and small generator powering the lights. Each couple had their own bedroom. The rooms were very snug and had a curtain for a door. Diane and I shared a bed that looked, to me, to be small for a single bed. Fortunately, no-one was put off by this and we all sat round the table for a late lunch. Food was a packet of freeze-dried something. I had a Thai curry which, when I had the patience to let it rehydrate properly, was not too bad. We even had some wine. It came from a box and tasted a little rough but nobody minded. We could sit out on the terrace, enjoy the sunshine, enjoy the view and reflect on the day.

Once the dogs had rested for a good hour, we fed them. It is important to give them this resting time before eating. Also, in the morning, they needed an hour after breakfast before they could start running. Same applies to all dogs. Mixing feeding with exercise can cause twisted gut and other ailments. Food for these dogs was high protein kibble with water from melted snow. Looked awful but the dogs loved it and gobbled it down like it was the best food ever. Then they simply curled up in the snow and went to sleep.

Our evening meal was bags of frozen Elk stew. Marcel and his assistant, Rebecca, defrosted this in a large pan of boiling water. Each person got a bag of hot stew, a bowl and a spoon. Diane and I are vegetarian and we each got a bag of vegetable stew. This was ok but I had to remind Diane that we had not come for the food. The rest of the evening was given over to playing cards, talking and reading. The day was as bright as it had been in the morning but come 10pm we retired to bed and I discovered that I was really quite tired after a day of mushing.

Next morning, I went downstairs to make some coffee. Fortunately, I found some ground coffee and a cafetière. I don’t mind basic food but instant coffee would be a step too far. I was so pleased that I made Diane a cup of tea to have in bed. As the coffee slowly did its morning magic, I was also pleased that no-one was complaining about my snoring. Seems there were a few other snorers there so nobody wanted to start pointing fingers. First job, after a second cup of coffee, was to feed the dogs. Same kibble as last night. They wolfed it down and then settled down again. After a night in the snow they each had a comfortable depression that they could curl up in. Our breakfast was something dried in a packet again. One option was dried egg and bacon. Nobody went for that. I opted for muesli with strawberry washed down with more strong coffee.

Day two. The plan was to head out in a big loop and come back to the cabin. Here is how to set off on a dog sledge. First make sure that the sledge is securely tied to the large wood post. Lay out the gangline. Fetch the first lead dog, fit his harness and attach the tugline. Leave Diane to hold the lead dog. Fetch dog number two, fit his harness and attach next to the lead dog. Connect the neckline between the two dogs. Now Diane needs to be firmly braced and holding the lead dogs while I fetch, harness and attach the remaining four dogs. Dog number six cannot contain his excitement, so he starts fighting with number five. I break them up but this only lasts a few seconds. We are nearly ready, so I take my place at the back of the sledge and stand on the brake. Loosen the knot on the wooden post and take a turn round it so that I can hold the sledge. Marcel has set off, so I signal Diane and she runs round the sledge and jumps on. The dogs try and follow her which adds to the confusion a bit. I let slip the rope, shout “mush” and we are off. Fights and other distractions completely forgotten the dogs are now set on chasing Marcel’s dogs down. After ten minutes things start to settle down a bit and by twenty minutes we are into a nice steady trot. Dog number five still has the odd nip at number six.

We head east off into the arctic wilderness. This really is a brilliant way to travel and feels like a perfectly natural fit to the environment. This time we have brought a few snacks, some biscuits to nibble on the way and a flask of water. The weather is enormously better than when we first arrived. Sunshine and blue skies. It is not cold. Probably hovering a little below freezing but the padded overalls keep us snug. Even Diane was comfortably warm. We crossed a massive, shallow valley. Feels like we are on a frozen lake but in fact it was just flat ground. Then we turned up a narrow gorge to look at a frozen waterfall. First obstacle was a short slope. The dogs could not quite pull the sledge up, so I hopped off the back to run and push. The moment the sledge crested the top, the dogs accelerated downwards and I had to leap back on the sledge while jumping on the brake so as not to overrun the dogs. Diane whooped and thought this was great fun. I wondered briefly how she would have felt had I missed my leap and abandoned her and the sledge to vanish into the distance. At the top of the gorge we took turns holding the sledges and inspecting the waterfall. Turning all the dog teams round, in a narrow gorge, was fun. The trick is to keep the teams apart otherwise they fight. Probably took about 20 minutes to get everyone sorted and then we were off again. Back over the little slope. I was ready for it this time. Then a loop to the north that took us round a mountain and back to the cabin.

The evening was pretty much a repeat. More wine was drunk and there was some singing. Not by me I would stress. A construction that looked a little like a large barrel by the side of the cabin was in fact a sauna. Several of the guests took advantage of this. I gave it a miss. Tried a sauna once but for the life of me could not understand why anyone would want to sit around and get hot. Makes me uncomfortable and sweaty for no apparent benefit at all. Each to their own.

Day three. Last day. I could happily have carried on. We still had a good four or five hour run with the dogs. Came back a different route to the way out over some slightly more challenging terrain. It has been a long time since I ran so much in one day. All too soon we were back and saying goodbye to our dogs. The final highlight of the trip was puppies. We visited a separate area of the kennels where there were puppies. Unbearably cute little bundles of fur that we had to give back. One day, I thought, one day…

Svalbard is an archipelago to the north of Norway. Way, way north. The capital, Longyearbyen, at  78°N, is the world’s most northerly settlement (>1,000), approximately halfway between Norway and the North Pole. It is also the furthest north either of us have been and indeed, the highest latitude I have ever been to. From Denmark we took the ferry to Gothenburg and then drove to Oslo airport. Parking here, if booked well in advance, is remarkably cheap, for Norway.

We flew to Tromsø in the north of Norway. On arrival we had to leave the aircraft, taking all our hand luggage, and then go through security checks. After this came passport control. Then we were herded back to the original plane where we could pack our hand luggage back in the overhead lockers and retake our earlier seats. Svalbard, formerly known as Spitzbergen, was established in the early twentieth century, when the high quality coal reserves became important. While the whole archipelago, annexed by the Svalbard Act 1925, has Norwegian sovereignty, it remains outside of Schengen and the EEA. Hence the passport and security checks. No visas are required to visit or work here and this appears to attract a wide variety of people from around the world. The main island is now known as Spitzbergen while the whole archipelago is called Svalbard.

It took nearly two hours to fly from Tromsø to Longyearbyn. We dropped out of the clouds to an expanse of glacier covered islands and snowy tundra. As we landed, snow was drifting across the runway. The sun never sets here. Not in the summer. It just goes around in a circle in the sky. In the winter it sets for three months but while we were there it was complete daylight. Longyearbyn airport is small. Just one luggage carousel and just one bus outside. The bus calls at all the hotels. Our hotel, the “Coal Miner’s Cabin” was basic but comfortable. The room was just big enough for two single beds and the shared bathrooms were a short walk down the corridor.

Less than an hour after arriving at our hotel, we were standing outside it waiting for the snowcat. Roads on Svalbard are limited to the town. There are very few cars. To get elsewhere needs something more capable. The Volvo snowcat is a very capable rough terrain vehicle. We were soon bouncing up the track out of town to visit an ice cave along with a guide and two other aspirant glacio-speleologists.

This particular cave had formed underneath a glacier. During the summer meltwater works its way through cracks in the ice and runs down the valley underneath the glacier making a cave. Arriving at a rather windy and bleak part of what was otherwise plain, snow covered hillside, we were taken to a door. A door in a snow bank. Inside a small tunnel angled sharply downwards. We switched on our headtorches and dived in. There was a rope to hang on to. This was essential because blowing snow had filled in the steps previously cut into the hard snow. After a bit of lowering, sliding and generally scrabbling around we arrived inside the cave on a rock floor with ice all around us.

The passageway was, for the most part, quite narrow. For about forty minutes we worked our way downwards. Once section involved a bit of crawling. Eventually we got to a large chamber with handprints on the wall. Not ancient cave art but prints made by the warm hands of previous visitors. In the roof were ice crystals. Given the right circumstances, water can freeze directly out of the air and makes incredibly delicate angular crystals. The walls of the cave were smoothed off by the water revealing layers in the glacial ice. Remnant of how it has formed over the years. There we also a variety of stones and pebbles shaped by the water and ice. After pondering the 40m or so of ice above our heads, we made our way back. Exiting the small tunnel proved even more interesting than getting in. A fair amount of grunting and heaving was required.

Heading back down the valley the wind dropped a bit. We stopped on top of a moraine hill overlooking the town for a quick brew and a biscuit. The wind may have dropped but the whole view was still grey and sombre. We hoped it would improve for the next day when we were embarking on a dog sledding trip.