Sometimes, the best plans are the ones you probably should have thought through a little more carefully.
We had to cancel our fieldwork because of the weather, leaving us with most of the day off. After being stuck inside because of the conditions, Lisa and I felt the need to get outside, burn off some energy and go skiing. We also wanted to visit an ice cave, preferably one a little further from town than the usual ones.
Naturally, we decided that meeting around 15:30 was perfectly reasonable. Midnight sun craziness and all.
The plan was to meet up and ski to a cave we both remembered as being relatively close by. There was just one small logistical problem: getting to our meeting point on skis would have taken me about 10 km each way, and we were already short on time. So I ended up getting a lift.
We couldn't all fit on the snowmobile, so I clipped into my fjellskis and held on behind it, being towed for roughly 20 km. The snow wasn't making things particularly easy as it was late in the season, and much of it had become wet and rotten. Some sections were barely covered by a thin layer of snow and ice, with rocks poking through. So I had to keep adjusting my line to avoid damaging my skis or taking an unexpected tumble. The snowmobile tracks left by larger groups were another challenge. Their stop-start driving had created plenty of bumps, and I was doing my best not to take off into the air on my skis. We arrived at the entrance of the valley and left the snowmobile there while continuing on skis towards the cave. Which meant another 20 km round trip.
We had both visited the area before, but mostly by snowmobile or dogsled. I had also skied there once, although reaching the place had taken a little less than two days, with a pulk carrying our camping gear. Somehow, the memory of those trips had convinced us that this was a perfectly manageable afternoon outing.
A little glimpse of the trip.
By the time we reached the cave, we had made it through the first part of the adventure. Although we weren't in a rush to get back before dark, the mountains had already cast the valley into shadow, reducing the available light considerably.
Lisa by the entrance of the cave next to our skis parking looking at the distance with her binoculars.
There was running water at the entrance, which made us both hesitate before going in. After checking that the water was coming from the ground and that there were no visible cracks overhead, we decided to explore. Some sections had no overhead cover, so we took our breaks there as we moved through the cave.
I always love the blue of the ice, its textures and the walls carved by meltwater. Ice caves are temporary places, constantly changing as water moves through them and temperatures rise and fall. Being able to explore one with a friend makes the experience even better.
I had visited this cave before, although not that season. Lisa had too, which was partly why we'd chosen it. Once we were there, I took my camera out. And there was Yuki, striking a pose for me.
He's a lovely and very well-behaved husky and mostly happy to be there, especially when cuddles and praise were involved. That made my job considerably easier. There wasn't a bigger story behind the photograph. We were simply having fun on a little adventure with good company.
Yuki posing in the ice cave in one of the not completely closed areas.
The light was already low, though, and I hadn't brought a flash. I didn't want to use my headtorch because its warmer light would have clashed with the cool tones inside the cave. Keeping Yuki sharp was therefore a bit of a challenge. Looking at the photo now, I'm glad I stopped and took it.
Next time, I'll probably bring a flash, even if I don't end up using it. It's one of those things that is better to have and not need than the other way around.
By the time we started heading back, the temperature had dropped a few degrees, and the wet snow was beginning to refreeze. The deep trenches carved by snowmobiles in the soft snow were hardening into uneven tracks that were much more difficult to navigate. The overwater was also becoming slippery, making it easy to lose control, especially while being towed behind a snowmobile.
I was doing all this on fjellskis, with only the front of my boots attached. After around 50 km, my legs were starting to feel the effort, and we still had roughly 10 km to go.
We slowed down a little on the return. Catching a ski in one of those trenches and reacting too slowly could easily have resulted in an injury, and I wasn't particularly interested in ending the day that way. The snow had been sticky in the warmer conditions and was now freezing, making the ride much less pleasant.
Eventually, we made it back to the starting point at around 22:30. We packed away the gear and went our separate ways. I got home after 23:00.
Looking back, we might have been a little more optimistic than realistic with our plans. But the whole thing was a lot of fun, and yes, I'd do it again.
Not necessarily with the same vague planning, but I happily sign up for spontaneous outings with friends, away from work and out in the landscape. Every little adventure is different, and sometimes the ones that don't go quite according to plan are the ones that stay with you.
This year’s ice cave season is almost here, and I wonder what it will bring.
