I’d only been home a week from a ski trip to Geilo with Helen and Toby, before I turned East again, to return to Oslo. Not to ski, but for a hut to hut trip with Mark, Sarah and Graeme.
After taking the train to Finse, we found our Hytte, and hid from the worsening weather. Visibility was deteriorating fast, but we were safe, and that’s what matters.
The clouds did clear a little, allowing an ascent to the Hardangerjøkulen Glacier, but conditions deteriorated and we retreated to safety. Poor weather again hampered us, but the DNT hut at Finse served excellent hot chocolate and waffles, which helped pass a wind scoured day.
Eventually we headed for the trails, encountering deep drifts of fresh snow as we headed towards the Geiterygghytte. Avalanche debris rolled down the valley sides, and it was certainly a day to stay clear of anything above a 40’ slope. The sun graced us a little, but thickening cloud rolled in as the day progressed, and we were very glad to make the hut in good time for a well needed and earned meal.
I’m a big fan of the DNT. Their wardened huts are frankly like hotels, whilst the self catering huts bring more of a traditional feel. Many are incredibly remote, yet excellently serviced. In the middle of nowhere, you can get a bed, light a fire, make a meal and enjoy the peace of the mountains. Telephone service is patchy at best, and whatever the weather, you feel at home in the huts.
Driving wind and snow made it a hard slog to the hut at Kongshelleren, but once inside, we were home from home. A stiff SE wind had been buffeting us all day, and drifting powder into fantastic shapes. It made for some very interesting snow shoeing. The hut was small, cosy and the roaring stove soon became the evening’s focal point.
The next morning dawned brighter and I was soon crunching fresh snow at pace, as I headed across the lake at Volavanet. A slight rise, brought us over the days high point and we soon descended into Lungsdalshytta. We saw two people all day, such is the emptiness and peace of this place.
The peace was soon broken, as thirteen dog teams arrived at Lungsdalshytta. Yelps filled the air as their traces were laid out on the snow. Free ear plugs were offered, but I don’t mind the sounds of dogs, and very little keeps me awake at night. Plus the fact, that with my fingers, getting plugs in and out is an impossibility..!
The next morning brought rain..! Not what you expect in snow clad mountains. Thankfully it turned to snow as we ascended, but the entire day’s feel was one of damp, almost Scottish sticky snow. The snow got thicker and visibility closed to less than 50 yards. Navigation was paramount as though the usual sticks marked the way, many were missing or buried in deep drifts. Thankfully we arrived safely at the Bjordalsbu hut in good time and spent the evening with a delightful group of Norwegian skiers.
Out descent into Morkedalen the next day brought more sticky conditions, and then something quite strange – cars..! The first vehicles in days greeted our eyes, which felt very strange. I’d not missed the sounds of engines at all. The Skarvheim hut was more like a home than a hut, and it was good to shower and relax, before a big day to Sulebu. The weather was warming and the snow was thinning and next morning, a miracle happened. The sun came out..! This was both a boon and a beast. Finally we could see the beautiful mountains and lakes which surrounded us, but we also roasted under it’s power. I have to be especially aware of my skin grafts, and continually plaster factor 50 on my face. I’m not going to become any better looking, but at least I wouldn’t fry..! A twelve hour day ensued, with deep powder and constant path diversions, followed by myself and Mark losing a leg each in a lake edge crevasse. With a twisted knee each, we made it to the hut and breathed a sigh of relief.
We were rewarded with a stunning show of the Northern Lights at 2am.
Our final morning was sunlit from the word go, and for once we could relax, before heading down the slopes to Tyin. A gentle, but melting route took us to the ski resort, which was quiet as their season had just closed. At last we could put our feet up and look back on a great trip across the ice and snow.
All that remained was a bus trip to Oslo on my 57th birthday, and a flight back home – until the next trip…