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I've just returned from my second ski touring / mountaineering trip to the Swedish Arctic; specifically Sarek National Park.
Sarek is possibly the last true wilderness left in Western Europe, there are no permanent structures, no vehicles, almost no people (we saw none for nearly 6 days), but tons of wildlife. It's absolutely beautiful, but being more than 67 deg North and exposed, can get viciously cold.
Here we're on our second day of skiing, between Sitojaure and Aktse, with fully laden pulks. The next day we head up the Rapa valley (off to the right) and into Sarek itself.
Greg Annandale | Twitter | Facebook | Google+ | 500px | Getty
Nhin ky mot chut nha moi nguoi, cai ten ao xanh bu xu do ko phai tui, tui nho xiu dang sau lung do!!
In 1890 a ski jumping hill was constructed here at Fiskartorpet. It was nicknamed "sjΓ€lvmΓΆrdaren", the suicide hill. One reason for that was that you would land on or near the frozen lake, Laduviken. Fifteen years later, a bigger hill was built. The construction was deemed unsafe and around 1930 the current version was ready. Back then, huge crowds with up to 30 000 spectators would watch the ski jumping contests. Around 1980 it was left abandoned. A group of volunteers renovated the hill and there was a contest here some fifteen years ago. But this is how it looks today. Kinda sad. The buildings are used for conferences today, I think.
Skiing in SΓ€len on New Year's Eve wasn't last year's best decision ....
"This photo was taken on December 31, 2012 in a mysterious place with no name" :-)
Lost Lake in 1977
Lost No Longer
There's a little lake in Whistler whose name clearly demonstrates the changes in the valley in the last couple of decades, in fact the name has actually become something of an oxymoron. Anyone who has been up there on a warm summers' day knows that Lost Lake is anything but.
On a sunny Saturday in July the manicured lawn above the beach is cluttered with bar-b-q's, towels, picnic baskets, ghetto blasters, and all the other things people seem to find it necessary to take to the beach. Kids of all ages paddle in the water. The rafts are often so crowded their decks are awash. It often resembles, in smaller scale, Kits or (on a particularly busy day) English Bay beach in Vancouver. Lost Lake can be accessed by road or by wide gravel paths, paths that not so long ago almost got paved until local opposition halted that misguided effort.
Consider this description of Lost Lake taken from the guide book Exploring Garibaldi Park by Dan Bowers.
"This easy stroll leads through fragrant pine woods to a small beaver lake with excellent trout fishing. The trail starts from the road end." At the south end of Fitzsimmons Dr. the turn off was right beside Nancy Greene's old house.
"At the first fork, take the left trail. From here the track soon leads into a sunny forest of young white pines, fragrant with resin." The author gets diverted here by the white pines and notes that 12,000 wooden matches are struck every second in America and that those matches require the cutting of almost three quarters of a million mature pines. Then he gets back on track.
"The trail is short. Soon, around a bend, a bit of a downhill stretch leads to a clearing by the lake. A grove of big old trees here makes a good place for a picnic. Even if you are no fisherman you should take a fishing rod on this trip. The trout here weigh up to four pounds." He lists the best spots and likely baits.
"But there is more to Lost Lake than fish. This small pond attracts wild creatures of many kinds. Occasional ospreys come to fish the lake. There is always a flutter of smaller birds. Kingfishers are common. The woods are filled with the rustle of unseen creatures. By the picnic place there is a beaver lodge right at the shore. A thin trail leads to a large beaver dam by the lake outlet. The beavers have become cautious, though, and usually only appear at dusk." He goes on to talk about the vegetation and ends with a warning.
"Because the water tastes of 'beaver' it is best to bring your own drinkinables. The lake water is as warm as restaurant soup by midsummer. Local people often swim here." Whether he's warning people about the beavers or the locals is unclear.
That last sentence is the only thing that remains true about Lost Lake today.
Of course the evolution (devolution?) of the lake was inevitable. It is a warm lake. Who would ever want to swim in Green Lake? Nita and Alpha sometimes warm up, but it takes a hot summer. Alta Lake warms up but it never gets as warm as Lost Lake does. Of course people would trek to Lost Lake to swim, and trek they did, in ever increasing numbers over the years.
The docks on the east side of the lake used to be the best place to swim from because what is now the beach used to be a tangled mass of undergrowth and the bottom of the lake was soft and squishy. Swimming from the docks allowed people to avoid touching the bottom altogether.
Swimtrunks were optional and many eschewed them. Thousands and thousands of people have pointed their naked buttocks at the sun on those docks over the years.
The first freestyle water ramp in Canada was built above the docks. Construction started in the summer of 1977. Local freedoggers of the day including Dave Lalik (who bucked the trend and actually moved to Australia from Whistler years ago to fill the void migration in the other direction was creating), Dave and Daveanna, and others (who still live in the valley and are trying to forget their freestyle past so they will remain nameless), worked for a whole summer building a ramp they could practice their double backs, mobius flips, and lay fulls on. The ramp was covered with green meanies that were taken from the old Olive chair downloading ramp that used to come right into the courtyard by L'Apres. That ramp is another freestyle story that might be told another time.
Doggers did not want to fall on the ramp because the green meanies would literally eat them. Skis didn't slide very well on the meanies and many lubricants were investigated to improve glide. A Sunlight soap solution didn't work all that well, Paming the bottom of skis helped a bit, but ultimately DL handcleaner was found to produce the best speed so tubs of the gooey stuff could be found at the top of the ramp.
The ramp wasn't just used by skiers. As time went by and as mountain bikes became popular young whippers from the summer ski camps on Whistler discovered that riding mountain bikes off the ramp could result in some big air. After a few bikes were lost (the lake is quite deep under the ramps) they started tying ropes to them. Occasionally the belayer would run out of rope before the rider ran out of up which sometimes resulted in aerial moves even the doggers envied.
In this increasingly litigious age the ramp couldn't last and it didn't. It fell into disuse and was eventually torn down in the early 1990's. A few of the main support posts are all that is left of it.
Today there is an incredible water ramp facility on Blackcomb but somehow it's just not the same. Naked, slightly stoned people are rarely seen watching freestylers fly through the air anymore...
By the way, the book Exploring Garibaldi Park was published in 1977.
Santa got me a new pair of skis ! π β¨βοΈ
These are little wider, shorter and lighter than my other skis, should be easier on my aging knees ! Now time to hit the slopes ! πππΊ
πSeattleπ
We have a big school building with a stadium under our windows. Day after day I see kids practicing skiing with their teacher. All ages, from 7 to 14 do it on a weekly basis. They study how to glide with and without sticks, how to make the right leg move. My Mom, my husband, my grandma and me, we all had skiing at school. It's a part of obligatory physical training with marks and norms, competitions and exams.
The Udmurtia region I came from is a motherland of Galina Kulakova, an Olympic skier (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galina_Kulakova). Cross-country skiing was a popular activity in our city, suitable for dating couples, retirees and families.