Päivä 1
Nybyen - Bjørndalen
18 kilometriä, 7 tuntia
Päivä 4
Vesuvaksla - Hollendarbukta
16 kilometriä, 7 tuntia
Eilispäivän jälkeen jalkani ovat muusia, enkä pidä Vesuvfjellen 739 metrissä kohoavalle huipulle kiipeämistä houkuttelevana ideana laisinkaan. Jätämme rinkkamme vuoren juurelle ja kiipeämme kuitenkin - ja kannattaahan se. Maisemat huipulta ovat henkeäsalpaavan kauniit. "If I ever got married, this is the kind of place I would do it in."
Tänä aamuna leiriä ei tarvitse pakata. Teltat saavat jäädä paikoilleen, eikä rinkka paina juuri mitään. Askel on kevyt ja kuljemme kahdentoista kilometrin matkan Barentsburgiin kahdessa ja puolessa tunnissa. "You'll be one of the rare ones who arrive in Barentsburg on foot and also leaves on foot. That's quite cool." Jos opiskelisinkin venäjää ja lähtisin oppaaksi Siperiaan?
Löydämme koko luokkamme kaupungin ainoasta baarista, johon veneillä saapuneet norjalaiset turistit ovat kokoontuneet nauttimaan paikallista olutta. Joku kysyy, josko mekin saisimme osamme tästä kulttuurielämyksestä, vaikka alkoholin nauttiminen opintoretkillämme onkin kielletty. "It is very much against the policy. But I think you should do it." Minusta käsien ja kasvojen peseminen hunajantuoksuisella saippualla on paras asia.
Day 1
Nybyen - Bjørndalen
18 kilometers, 7 hours
I throw my pack on my back, get out of the door and head towards the infinite. Did I forget something? Do I have enough food? The toughness of the trip is frightening me. Will I manage? "Some of the parts will be... impossible." Sigmund's calm words are not very comforting.
The 300 meter ascent through Tvärdalen does not feel as bad as I thought it would. The reindeer are stuffing themselves up for the winter on the top of Platåbergen. "We're the singing feelgood -group with no hurry." There's no hurry today. The first day is a light one: we're not further than 3 kilometres from the camp for tonight while having lunch. What a delusion.
We're trying to get down to Bjørndalen through a valley according to Niklas' plan, but our course is cut by ice, crevasses and steep walls formed by millions and millions of loose rocks. Frustrating. We have to head south until we find a slope that's not too steep to walk down. Loose rocks are straining to walk on.
We're not the last ones in camp, unlike we thought we'd be. We have, however, walked twice the distance the two first groups did. My new, warm down jacket causes a lot of amusement and leads to a new nickname, Poo, which is referring to the red teletubby.
The faint northern lights are visible after sunset and one sleeps well on her bed of moss.
Day 2
Bjørndalen - Kolberget
14 kilometers, 8 hours
We're approaching the southern end of Bjørndalen with good speed. Our guide for today is a man wearing military clothes, also responding to the name Silent Hunter. Until now, I would never have imagined this prototype of masculinity to know songs from Moulin Rouge by heart.
Valleys after valleys.We cross one to reach the next one. We climb down, cross a stream and climb back up again. Fortunately Niklas remembers to tell us, that climbing steep slopes with loose rocks is not hard at all: "It's a kindergarden climb!"
We reach the beginning of Grumantdalen as the first group, which feels like quite an achievement. There's no time to go down and visit the old mining town, but The Silent Hunter tells us about it's history. The Russians estabilished a mine in Grumant in 1912, but it was shut down and the village was abandoned after the mid 60's.
Alex, who filled the drinking water canisters up with sea water on the glacier excursion, gets a few extra kilos in his backpack in the form of rocks. We get puzzled by a post-apocalyptic view into a valley that seems to be invisible on our maps. "What is this landscape?" Finally, we find our way to the camp in the mist that's slowly disappearing. "Wow, that mountain just appeared!"
There's room for an Englishman in a four-person tent occupied by only me and Anniken. I'm enjoying my polar bear watch in the dusk - these views are worth savoring.
Day 3
Kolberget - Vesuvaksla
23 kilometers, 9 hours
Today is my day of guiding. The weather is bright and clear and you see far from the camp. It's difficult to judge distances in this treeless landscape and I find it hard to trust Ådne as he's trying to help me with navigating.
Sigmund is joining our group today. We're heading towards Colesdalen and manage to hit Colesbukta, which was used as a harbor and residence for some of the miners back when the mine in Grumant still was in use. We have lunch by an actual table in a building, that must have served as some kind of a dorm back in the old days.
There are several ships in the bay: a Russian one by the shore and the coast guard vessel further out. It looks like a group of Russians is cleaning the beach of driftwood and all kinds of crap. Well, actually one of the men is throwing wood into a fire while the five others are standing around watching him work.
The rising tide ruins my plan of crossing the Coleselva just before it hits the sea. We try to build a bridge, but fail. We're forced further into the valley, on a swamp, which is a very heavy and frustrating terrain to walk on. The tussocks collapse under our feet and we're making very slow progress. As we get back to the river and the boys are looking for a place to cross with dry feet, I decide to pick the widest spot and just walk across. The others decide to follow after only hesitating a little.
A 1:100 000 map is difficult to navigate with. One has to spot the tiniest changes in the contour lines. I'm happy we have Sigmund, who's interfering with my route plan and saving us from extra climbing - we get to climb enough as it is. His relaxed and positive mindset must never drop. "I'm sure it's perfect."
Fossildalen is covered with a thin layer of snow and thus there are no fossils to be seen. I would have no interest in any fossils anyway at the moment. My feet are out of energy and I have to fight to manage to get up towards the clouds hanging so low they're forming a roof for the valley. As a guide I can't just close into myself, but I have to lift my eyes from the ground and keep my group together and going. I have to take care of the others and stay positive.
When we see the last climb and the edge of Vesuvaksla, I'm already more tired than I've possibly ever been. We make it up and see the camp. I'm absorbing the view. We're above the clouds and the setting sun is colouring the sky in different shades of orange and purple. I have to fight to not burst into tears.
After dinner it's time for our group to gather into the tent for a reflection. I get positive feedback, which cheers me up. I'm teaching another one of the groups the Finnish version of Hude, skulder, kne og tå while replacing the polar bear watch. The Swede learns amazingly fast.
Day 4
Vesuvaksla - Hollendarbukta
16 kilometers, 7 hours
My feet feel like pudding after yesterday and climbing all the way up to the top of Vesuvfjellen, which stands in 739 meters, sounds like a very bad idea to me. We leave our backpacks down by the foot of the mountain and climb anyway - and it sure is worth it. The view from the top is breathtakingly beautiful. "If I ever got married, this is the kind of place I would do it in."
The terrain is easy today. Our Dutch guide, who woke us up with his national anthem, tells us about the Dutch history on Svalbard. We reach the camp by Hollendarbukta, on the east side of the river, even before the group that calls themselves Team optimistic appears. This is unheard-of.
A campfire is a rare treat around these regions and one could sit by it for hours and hours.
Day 5
Hollendarbukta - Barentsburg - Hollendarbukta
25 kilometers, 5 hours
It is still dark during my polar bear watch at 3 a.m. There's a faint orange glow in the horizon. My tired eyes are playing tricks on me and I'm imagining seeing movement here and there. When I turn my headlamp on and see a pair of eyes approaching from behind the ridge, my pulse gets up. It's a polar bear and it's very close! I run to wake up Sigmund and the other teacher. As they crawl out of their tent, the eyes have moved on to the beach and we can see the creature running. It's just a harmless arctic fox. Oops.
There's no need to pack up the camp this morning. The tents can stay and our backpacks feel light as feathers. Walking is very easy and we travel the 12 kilometer distance to Barentsburg in two and a half hours. "You'll be one of the rare ones who arrive in Barentsburg on foot and also leaves on foot. That's quite cool." What if I studied Russian and went to work as a guide in Siberia?
It's hard to describe what it is like to leave a Norwegian small town, walk for four days and arrive to a place exactly like a Soviet town from your imagination. Despite this already being my second visit to Barentsburg, the second biggest settlement on Svalbard, I am amazed. One can find beautiful, handmade matryoshka dolls on the shelves of the souvenir shop. The abandoned house we had a little expedition in the last time, is being ripped apart. The exterior surfaces of old buildings are getting renewed and the person responsible of the design obviously has visions of some kind of a Legoland.
Our whole class is to be found from the pub, where a bunch of Norwegian tourists have gathered to enjoy some locally brewed beer. Someone asks if we also may enjoy this cultural experience although consuming alcohol during school trips is forbidden. "It is very much against the policy. But I think you should do it." Washing my hands and face with a soap with a scent of honey is one of the highlights of my day.
The way back home always goes faster, even today. Nothing beats the warmth of a camp fire.
Day 6
Hollendarbukta - Kapp Laila
17 kilometers, 8 hours
Instead of following the seashore and taking the shortest route from Hollendarbukta to Kapp Laila, we are obligated to head south, deeper into the Hollendardalen towards our waypoint. We end up climbing to the top of Oppkuven. The 400 meter ascent feels tough. During the last meters I end up having to swallow my pride and giving my backpack to Niklas, who seems to have endless reserves of energy. I can't decide which feels worse; being physically so tired or having to give up. The view from the top makes one forget any negative feelings she might have had and smiling comes easy again.
A pair of reindeer antlers tangled up in a cable hanging from an old metal structure remind me of a story I once heard in Alaska. I'm sending warm thoughts to the other side of the world. How are you doing? How was the hunting season? Are the horses ready for the winter yet? When will we see each other again?
The terrain is easy to walk again as we get down from Oppkuven. We find our way to the camp and my mind is puzzling with the river crossing we will be facing tomorrow. We get to enjoy dry toes and the heat of the fire for one more night. The northern lights wake up as it gets dark and they're glowing green, dancing on the sky. What a pleasure it is, being alive.
Day 7
Kapp Laila - Fardalen
23 kilometers, 8 hours
It's my turn to be the guide again. We leave on time and follow the seashore. The arctic foxes have left their footprints in the sand. We're passing Fossilvalley, which is not getting too many warm thoughts from us. The river is frozen and with our Flying Dutchman in front, we're crossing it way easier than any of us ever dared to dream of. We're more than an hour ahead of our schedule, the spirit is high and we're singing as we go.
By lunchtime I have handed the guide responsibilities, as well as the four extra kilograms caused by the rifle, over to Anniken. I feel pain in my knees when going downhill and keep wishing they will not let me down just yet. We see both of the two faster groups ahead of us as we get to the mouth of Fardalen. We get excited and feel the familiar relief that seizes you when you're able to see the camp after a long day of hiking. Then we see them moving and realize we're not there yet. "Oh please don't go any further!" I'm getting very tired and the Dutchman has pain in his hip.
We finally reach the camp and putting up the big tent is my responsibility. Trying to get the stakes to bite into the rocky ground feels like an overwhelming task today and I feel like laying down like a starfish on the tundra. There's no fish in the fish soup and I'm not allowed to go to bed yet at six o'clock. Some of the boys want to learn a Finnish sentence without knowing what it means. "Anna mulle piiskaa!"
Day 8
Fardalen - Nybyen
13 kilometers, 4 hours
The Dutchman is the guide for the day. He has the difficult job of keeping our minds away from the food, the shower and the bed that are awaiting for us in our destination. Mountains have been named after Bing, Hierta and Nordenskiöld. Now I know why.
The valley between Teltbergen and Lars Hiertafjellet is shorter and not as steep as I expected. I get up without that much effort and I feel both joy and relief as I finally step on the Longyear glacier. We're almost there! Sigmund left some surprise chocolate for us to be found in the bag with our crampons.
"What have you learned on this trip? Something you can take with you in further life?" I've learned, that when you think you've reached your limit and you just can't take any more - you're wrong. One is able to push his limits further than he thinks. I also learned that a warm and positive group is a huge source of strength and energy. In addition of me being happy with myself, I'm very happy with our group. We were constantly supporting each other and not afraid of being ourselves. It couldn't have been better.
My knees ache in the last downhill and suddenly we're in the end of Nybyen, exactly where we left from a week ago. We return tired and smelly, but above all a little bit wiser and richer in experiences. I don't think we are exactly the same we were when we left. The joy of achievement fulfills my mind. I did it. We did it.
Nybyen - Bjørndalen
18 kilometriä, 7 tuntia
Rinkka selkään, ulos ovesta ja kohti ääretöntä. Unohdinko jotain? Onko ruokaa riittävästi? Retken rankkuus pelottaa. Jaksanko? "Some of the parts will be.. impossible." Sigmundin tyynesti lausumat sanat eivät juuri tuo lohtua.
Kolmensadan metrin nousu Tvärdalenin halki ei tunnukaan yhtä raskaalle, kuin luulin. Porot ahmivat jäkälää Platåbergen päällä kuin viimeistä päivää. "We're the singing feelgood -group with no hurry." Tänään ei ole kiire, ensimmäinen päivä on kevyt: olemmehan lounastaessamme enää kolmen kilometrin päässä leiristä. Harhaluuloja.
Yritämme laskeutua Bjørndaleniin Niklaksen suunnitelman mukaan, mutta kulkuväyläksemme tarkoitetussa laaksossa tiemme katkaisee jäätikkö ja jyrkät seinämät. Turhauttaa. On kuljettava etelään, kunnes löydämme rinteen, joka on riittävän loiva laskeuduttavaksi. Irtokivet ovat raskaita kulkea.
Emme ole viimeisinä leirissä, toisin kuin luulimme. Olemme kuitenkin kulkeneet kaksinkertaisen matkan kahteen ensimmäiseen ryhmään verrattuna. Uusi, lämmin untuvatakkini aiheuttaa huvittuneisuutta ja johtaa uusiin lempinimiin, joista punaiseen teletappiin viittaava Poo ei pääse unohtumaan.
Revontulet näkyvät heikkoina taivaalla auringonlaskun jälkeen ja sammalpedillä on hyvä nukkua.
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| Kolberget |
Päivä 2
Bjørndalen - Kolberget
14 kilometriä, 8 tuntia
14 kilometriä, 8 tuntia
Kuljemme Bjørndalenin eteläiseen päähän hyvää vauhtia. Hiljaiseksi metsästäjäksikin kutsuttu armeijatamineisiin pukeutunut mies toimii ryhmämme oppaana tänään. Vielä eilen en olisi osannut kuvitella tuota miehisyyden perikuvaa laulamassa Moulin Rougesta tuttuja viisuja ulkomuistista.
Laaksoja ja notkoja toistensa perään. Ylitettyämme yhden saavumme seuraavalle ja taas on laskeuduttava alas, ylitettävä puro tai joki ja kivuttava takaisin ylös. Onneksemme Niklas muistaa mainostaa, ettei irtokivillä kiipeily ole vaikeaa ollenkaan: "It's a kindergarden climb!"
Saavumme Grumantdalenin päähän ensimmäisenä ryhmänä, mikä tuntuu melkomoiselta saavutukselta. Aikaa vanhaan kaivoskylään tutustumiseen ei ole, mutta hiljainen metsästäjä kertoo meille sen historiasta. Venäläiset perustivat Grumantiin kaivoksen vuonna 1912, mutta sen toiminta lakkasi ja paikka autioitui 60-luvun puolivälin jälkeen.
Jäätiköllä juomavesikanisterit merivedellä täyttänyt Alex saa tietämättään rinkkaansa useamman kilon edestä kiviä ja edessämme aukeava, kartalla näkymätön laakso postapokalyptisine maisemineen hämmentää. "What is this landscape?" Löydämme leiriin hiljalleen ympäriltämme hälvenevässä usvassa. "Wow, that mountain just appeared!"
Minun ja Annikenin kahdestaan miehittämästä neljän hengen teltasta löytyy tilaa yhdelle engelsmannillekin. Nautin jääkarhuvahdista iltahämärässä - näitä maisemia kelpaa ihailla.
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| Vesuv ja Vestafjellet |
Päivä 3
Kolberget - Vesuvaksla
23 kilometriä, 9 tuntia
Kolberget - Vesuvaksla
23 kilometriä, 9 tuntia
Tänään on minun päiväni oppaana. Sää on kirkas ja leiristä näkee kauas. Etäisyyksien hahmottaminen on hankalaa tässä puuttomassa maailmassa, enkä meinaa luottaa Ådnen suunnistusapuun.
Sigmund liittyy ryhmäämme täksi päiväksi. Suuntaamme kohti Colesdalenia ja osumme kuin osummekin Colesbuktaan, joka Grumantin kaivoksen ollessa toiminnassa toimi satamana ja kaivoksen johtohahmojen asuinpaikkana. Lounastamme ihan oikean pöydän ääressä vanhassa asuntolantapaisessa rakennuksessa.
Sigmund liittyy ryhmäämme täksi päiväksi. Suuntaamme kohti Colesdalenia ja osumme kuin osummekin Colesbuktaan, joka Grumantin kaivoksen ollessa toiminnassa toimi satamana ja kaivoksen johtohahmojen asuinpaikkana. Lounastamme ihan oikean pöydän ääressä vanhassa asuntolantapaisessa rakennuksessa.
Lahdessa on laivoja useampi: rannassa venäläinen paatti ja kauempana merivartioston alus. Ryhmä venäläismiehiä näyttää siivoavan rantaa ajopuusta ja romusta - tai oikeammin yksi miehistä heittelee puunrunkoja nuotioon, kun muut viisi katselevat vierestä.
Nousuvesi pilaa suunnitelmamme yrittää Coleselva juuri ennen kuin se laskee mereen. Sillanrakennusyrityksemme epäonnistuu. Ajaudumme suolle, jolla kulkeminen on raskasta ja turhauttavaa. Mättäät pettävät alta ja eteneminen on hidasta. Takaisin joenvarteen päästyämme poikien etsiessä kengät kuivana säilyttävää ylityspaikkaa, minä päätän kävellä yli. Muut seuraavat perässä epäröityään vain hetken.
1:100 000 on viheliäinen mittasuhde kartalle, jonka avulla on yritettävä suunnistaa. On kyettävä näkemään pienimmätkin muutokset korkeusmerkinnöissä. Olen onnellinen siitä, että Sigmund on mukana ja korjaa reittisuunnitelmaani säästäen meiltä ylimääräistä kiipeämistä - sitä kun on muutenkin riittämiin. Hänen rento ja positiivinen mielialansa laskee tuskin koskaan. "I'm sure it's perfect."
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| Vesuvaksla |
Fossildalen on hennon lumikerroksen kuorruttama, eikä fossiileja näin ollen näy. Minä en jaksaisi moisia katsellakaan. Jaloissani ei tunnu enää olevan voimia lainkaan ja joudun taistelemaan jaksaakseni kavuta ylös, kohti matalalla roikkuvia pilviä. Oppaana en voi sulkeutua kuoreeni ja keskittyä puremaan hammasta, sillä katse on nostettava maasta ja ryhmä pidettävä koossa. On huolehdittava muiden jaksamisesta ja pysyttävä positiivisena.
Kun näemme Vesuvakslan reunan ja viimeisen nousun, olen jo väsyneempi kuin ehkä koskaan ennen. Pääsemme ylös ja näemme leirin. Katselen ympärilleni, olemme pilvien yläpuolella ja laskeva aurinko maalaa taivaan oranssein ja vaaleanpunaisin sävyin. Pidättelen itkua.
Kun näemme Vesuvakslan reunan ja viimeisen nousun, olen jo väsyneempi kuin ehkä koskaan ennen. Pääsemme ylös ja näemme leirin. Katselen ympärilleni, olemme pilvien yläpuolella ja laskeva aurinko maalaa taivaan oranssein ja vaaleanpunaisin sävyin. Pidättelen itkua.
Illallisen jälkeen on ryhmän aika kokoontua telttaan reflektointia varten. Saan positiivista palautetta ja mieleni muuttuu hurjan hyväksi. Vedenhakureissulle poistunutta jääkarhuvahtia tuuratessani opetan toiselle ryhmälle pää-olkapää-peppu -laulun. Ruotsalainen tyttö oppii nopeasti.
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| Vesuvfjellen huipulla |
Päivä 4
Vesuvaksla - Hollendarbukta
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| Vesuvfjellen huipulla |
16 kilometriä, 7 tuntia
Eilispäivän jälkeen jalkani ovat muusia, enkä pidä Vesuvfjellen 739 metrissä kohoavalle huipulle kiipeämistä houkuttelevana ideana laisinkaan. Jätämme rinkkamme vuoren juurelle ja kiipeämme kuitenkin - ja kannattaahan se. Maisemat huipulta ovat henkeäsalpaavan kauniit. "If I ever got married, this is the kind of place I would do it in."
Maasto on tänään helppokulkuista. Meidät aamulla kotimaansa kansallislaululla herättänyt alankomaalainen oppaamme kertoo hollantilaisten osasta Svalbardin historiassa. Saavumme leiriin, Hollendarbuktan rannalle ja joen itäpuolelle hyvissä ajoin, jopa ennen itseään team optimistic -nimellä kutsuvaa ryhmää, mikä on ennenkuulumatonta.
Nuotio on näillä main harvinaista herkkua. Sen lämmössä voisi istuskella tuntikausia.
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| Hollendarbukta |
Päivä 5
Hollendarbukta - Barentsburg - Hollendarbukta
25 kilometriä, 5 tuntia
Minun jääkarhuvahtivuoroni aikaan, aamukolmelta, on vielä pimeää. Horisontissa hohtaa heikko oranssi, jonka valo ei yllä tänne saakka. Väsyneet silmäni tekevät tepposiaan ja olen näkevinäni liikettä siellä täällä. Erään kerran otsalamppuni sytyttäessäni näen silmät, jotka lähestyvät leiriä harjanteen takaa. Pulssini tuplaantuu. Se on jääkarhu ja se on lähellä! Juoksen herättämään Sigmundin ja toisen opettajan. Heidän kömpiessään ulos teltasta silmät ovat liikkuneet rannalle ja nähdessämme otuksen juoksevan toteamme sen olevan vain harmiton naali. Hups.
Hollendarbukta - Barentsburg - Hollendarbukta
25 kilometriä, 5 tuntia
Minun jääkarhuvahtivuoroni aikaan, aamukolmelta, on vielä pimeää. Horisontissa hohtaa heikko oranssi, jonka valo ei yllä tänne saakka. Väsyneet silmäni tekevät tepposiaan ja olen näkevinäni liikettä siellä täällä. Erään kerran otsalamppuni sytyttäessäni näen silmät, jotka lähestyvät leiriä harjanteen takaa. Pulssini tuplaantuu. Se on jääkarhu ja se on lähellä! Juoksen herättämään Sigmundin ja toisen opettajan. Heidän kömpiessään ulos teltasta silmät ovat liikkuneet rannalle ja nähdessämme otuksen juoksevan toteamme sen olevan vain harmiton naali. Hups.
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| Hiljainen metsästäjä matkalla Barentsburgiin |
On vaikeaa kuvailla, miten hämmentävää on lähteä norjalaisesta kylästä, kävellä neljä päivää ja saapua yhtäkkiä paikkaan, joka on juuri sellainen, joksi kuvittelisit neuvostoliittolaisen pikkukaupungin. Huolimatta siitä, että tämä on jo toinen vierailuni Barentsburgissa, Svalbardin toiseksi suurimmassa kaupungissa, olen varsin haltioissani. Lahjatavarakaupan hyllyjä koristavat kauniit käsintehdyt maatuskat ja autiotaloa, jossa viimeksi kävimme tutkimusretkellä, revitään alas parasta aikaa. Vanhojen rakennuksien ulkopintoja uusitaan ja niiden suunnittelijalla on ilmiselvästi visio jonkinlaisesta legolandista.
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| Barentsburg |
Löydämme koko luokkamme kaupungin ainoasta baarista, johon veneillä saapuneet norjalaiset turistit ovat kokoontuneet nauttimaan paikallista olutta. Joku kysyy, josko mekin saisimme osamme tästä kulttuurielämyksestä, vaikka alkoholin nauttiminen opintoretkillämme onkin kielletty. "It is very much against the policy. But I think you should do it." Minusta käsien ja kasvojen peseminen hunajantuoksuisella saippualla on paras asia.
Kotimatka sujuu aina nopeammin, niin nytkin. Ei ole elävän tulen tuoman lämmön voittanutta.
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| Grønfjorden |
Päivä 6
Hollendarbukta - Kapp Laila
17 kilometriä, 8 tuntia
17 kilometriä, 8 tuntia
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| Oppkuven |
Sen sijaan, että kulkisimme suorinta reittiä rantaa myöten Hollendarbuktasta Kapp Lailaan, vie reittipisteemme meidät etelään, syvemmälle Hollendardaleniin. Päädymme kiipeämään Oppkuven huipulle. Nuo neljäsataa metriä ylöspäin tuntuvat hurjan rankoilta. Viimemetreillä joudun nielemään ylpeyteni ja luovuttamaan rinkkani ehtymätöntä energiaa pursuavalle Niklakselle. En tiedä kumpi tuntuu vaikeammalta; fyysinen väsymys vai periksiantaminen. Maisemat huipulta vievät pahat tuulet mukanaan ja hymyileminen on taas helppoa.
Vanhan näytteenporaustornin kaapeliin sotkeutuneet poronsarvet muistuttavat Alaskassa kuulemastani tarinasta. Lähetän lämpöisiä ajatuksia toiselle puolelle maailmaa. Mitähän sinne kuuluu? Tuliko metsästyskaudella saalista? Ovatko hevoset jo valmiita talveen? Milloin näemme taas?
Päästyämme alas Oppkuvenilta on maasto taas helppokulkuista ja leiriin helppo löytää. Huominen joenylitys mietityttää. Saamme nauttia nuotiosta ja kuivista varpaista vielä tänä iltana. Pimeän tultua revontulet heräävät ja tanssivat vihreänä nauhana taivaalla. Kylläpä on ilo olla elossa.
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| Oppkuven |
Päivä 7
Kapp Laila - Fardalen
23 kilometriä, 8 tuntia
23 kilometriä, 8 tuntia
On taas minun vuoroni toimia oppaana. Lähdemme liikkeelle ajoissa merenrantaa seuraten. Naalit ovat jättäneet tassunjälkiään hiekkaan. Ohitamme Fossildalenin, jota emme muista lämmöllä. Joki on jäätynyt ja lentävää hollantilaistamme seuraten ylitämme sen sulavammin, kuin olisimme ikinä uskaltaneet uneksiakaan. Olemme yli tunnin verran edellä aikataulusta ja ilomielin lauleksimme mennessämme.
Lounasaikaan oppaan vastuu - ja siis myös kiväärin mukanaan tuomat ylimääräiset neljä kiloa - siirtyy Annikenille. Tunnen alamäet polvissani, joiden toivon kestävän loppuun saakka. Fardaleniin päästyämme näemme molemmat nopeammat ryhmät kaukana edessämme, ehdimme riemuita leiristä, kunnes tajuamme heidän liikkuvan. "Oh please don't go any further!" Minua väsyttää ja hollantilaisella on kipuja lonkassaan.
Saavutamme leirin vihdoin ja teltan pystytys on tuttuun tapaan minun vastuullani. Tänään kiilojen iskeminen kiviseen maahan tuntuu ylitsepääsemättömän vaikealta ja minun tekee mieleni heittäytyä meritähdeksi tundralle. Pussikalakeitossa ei ole kalaa lainkaan, enkä saa mennä nukkumaan vielä kuudelta. Pojat haluavat oppia suomalaisen lauseen tietämättä mitä se tarkoittaa. "Anna mulle piiskaa!"
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| Tenndammen |
Päivä 8
Fardalen - Nybyen
13 kilometriä, 4 tuntia
13 kilometriä, 4 tuntia
On hollantilaisen vuoro toimia oppaana. Hänellä on täysi työ pitää meidän ajatuksemme poissa perillä odottavasta ruuasta, suihkusta ja sängystä. Bingin, Nordenskiöldin ja Hiertan mukaan on nimetty vuoria. Nyt tiedän miksi.
Teltbergen ja Lars Hiertafjellen välissä kulkeva laakso on odottamaani loivempi ja lyhyempi. Selviän sen ylös sen suuremmitta ponnisteluitta ja Longyearbreenille astuessani ilo ja helpotus ovat suuret. Olemme melkein perillä! Löydämme Sigmundin meille jättämät jääraudat ja yllätyssuklaata.
"What have you learned on this trip? Something you can take with you in further life?" Olen oppinut, että kun luulet ylittäneesi rajasi, kun luulet ettet yksinkertaisesti pysty jatkamaan enää - olet väärässä. Omia rajojaan pystyy puskemaan pidemmälle kuin uskookaan. Opin myös, että lämmin ja positiivinen ryhmä antaa äärettömän paljon voimaa. Sen lisäksi, että olen tyytyväinen itseeni, olen hurjan tyytyväinen ryhmäämme. Olimme toistemme tukena jatkuvasti, uskalsimme kaikki olla omia itsejämme ja antaa itsestämme. Paremmin ei olisi voinut olla.
Viimeiset alamäet vihlovat polvissa ja yhtäkkiä olemme Nybyenin tien päässä, juuri siinä, mistä lähdimme viikko sitten. Palaamme väsyneinä ja haisevina, mutta ennen kaikkea hieman viisaampina ja monta kokemusta rikkaampina. Emme ole se täysin sama ryhmä, jona lähdimme. Saavuttamisen ilo valtaa mielen. Minä tein sen. Me teimme sen.
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| Longyearbreen |
Day 1
Nybyen - Bjørndalen
18 kilometers, 7 hours
I throw my pack on my back, get out of the door and head towards the infinite. Did I forget something? Do I have enough food? The toughness of the trip is frightening me. Will I manage? "Some of the parts will be... impossible." Sigmund's calm words are not very comforting.
The 300 meter ascent through Tvärdalen does not feel as bad as I thought it would. The reindeer are stuffing themselves up for the winter on the top of Platåbergen. "We're the singing feelgood -group with no hurry." There's no hurry today. The first day is a light one: we're not further than 3 kilometres from the camp for tonight while having lunch. What a delusion.
We're trying to get down to Bjørndalen through a valley according to Niklas' plan, but our course is cut by ice, crevasses and steep walls formed by millions and millions of loose rocks. Frustrating. We have to head south until we find a slope that's not too steep to walk down. Loose rocks are straining to walk on.
We're not the last ones in camp, unlike we thought we'd be. We have, however, walked twice the distance the two first groups did. My new, warm down jacket causes a lot of amusement and leads to a new nickname, Poo, which is referring to the red teletubby.
The faint northern lights are visible after sunset and one sleeps well on her bed of moss.
Day 2
Bjørndalen - Kolberget
14 kilometers, 8 hours
We're approaching the southern end of Bjørndalen with good speed. Our guide for today is a man wearing military clothes, also responding to the name Silent Hunter. Until now, I would never have imagined this prototype of masculinity to know songs from Moulin Rouge by heart.
Valleys after valleys.We cross one to reach the next one. We climb down, cross a stream and climb back up again. Fortunately Niklas remembers to tell us, that climbing steep slopes with loose rocks is not hard at all: "It's a kindergarden climb!"
We reach the beginning of Grumantdalen as the first group, which feels like quite an achievement. There's no time to go down and visit the old mining town, but The Silent Hunter tells us about it's history. The Russians estabilished a mine in Grumant in 1912, but it was shut down and the village was abandoned after the mid 60's.
Alex, who filled the drinking water canisters up with sea water on the glacier excursion, gets a few extra kilos in his backpack in the form of rocks. We get puzzled by a post-apocalyptic view into a valley that seems to be invisible on our maps. "What is this landscape?" Finally, we find our way to the camp in the mist that's slowly disappearing. "Wow, that mountain just appeared!"
There's room for an Englishman in a four-person tent occupied by only me and Anniken. I'm enjoying my polar bear watch in the dusk - these views are worth savoring.
Day 3
Kolberget - Vesuvaksla
23 kilometers, 9 hours
Today is my day of guiding. The weather is bright and clear and you see far from the camp. It's difficult to judge distances in this treeless landscape and I find it hard to trust Ådne as he's trying to help me with navigating.
Sigmund is joining our group today. We're heading towards Colesdalen and manage to hit Colesbukta, which was used as a harbor and residence for some of the miners back when the mine in Grumant still was in use. We have lunch by an actual table in a building, that must have served as some kind of a dorm back in the old days.
There are several ships in the bay: a Russian one by the shore and the coast guard vessel further out. It looks like a group of Russians is cleaning the beach of driftwood and all kinds of crap. Well, actually one of the men is throwing wood into a fire while the five others are standing around watching him work.
The rising tide ruins my plan of crossing the Coleselva just before it hits the sea. We try to build a bridge, but fail. We're forced further into the valley, on a swamp, which is a very heavy and frustrating terrain to walk on. The tussocks collapse under our feet and we're making very slow progress. As we get back to the river and the boys are looking for a place to cross with dry feet, I decide to pick the widest spot and just walk across. The others decide to follow after only hesitating a little.
A 1:100 000 map is difficult to navigate with. One has to spot the tiniest changes in the contour lines. I'm happy we have Sigmund, who's interfering with my route plan and saving us from extra climbing - we get to climb enough as it is. His relaxed and positive mindset must never drop. "I'm sure it's perfect."
Fossildalen is covered with a thin layer of snow and thus there are no fossils to be seen. I would have no interest in any fossils anyway at the moment. My feet are out of energy and I have to fight to manage to get up towards the clouds hanging so low they're forming a roof for the valley. As a guide I can't just close into myself, but I have to lift my eyes from the ground and keep my group together and going. I have to take care of the others and stay positive.
When we see the last climb and the edge of Vesuvaksla, I'm already more tired than I've possibly ever been. We make it up and see the camp. I'm absorbing the view. We're above the clouds and the setting sun is colouring the sky in different shades of orange and purple. I have to fight to not burst into tears.
After dinner it's time for our group to gather into the tent for a reflection. I get positive feedback, which cheers me up. I'm teaching another one of the groups the Finnish version of Hude, skulder, kne og tå while replacing the polar bear watch. The Swede learns amazingly fast.
Day 4
Vesuvaksla - Hollendarbukta
16 kilometers, 7 hours
My feet feel like pudding after yesterday and climbing all the way up to the top of Vesuvfjellen, which stands in 739 meters, sounds like a very bad idea to me. We leave our backpacks down by the foot of the mountain and climb anyway - and it sure is worth it. The view from the top is breathtakingly beautiful. "If I ever got married, this is the kind of place I would do it in."
The terrain is easy today. Our Dutch guide, who woke us up with his national anthem, tells us about the Dutch history on Svalbard. We reach the camp by Hollendarbukta, on the east side of the river, even before the group that calls themselves Team optimistic appears. This is unheard-of.
A campfire is a rare treat around these regions and one could sit by it for hours and hours.
Day 5
Hollendarbukta - Barentsburg - Hollendarbukta
25 kilometers, 5 hours
It is still dark during my polar bear watch at 3 a.m. There's a faint orange glow in the horizon. My tired eyes are playing tricks on me and I'm imagining seeing movement here and there. When I turn my headlamp on and see a pair of eyes approaching from behind the ridge, my pulse gets up. It's a polar bear and it's very close! I run to wake up Sigmund and the other teacher. As they crawl out of their tent, the eyes have moved on to the beach and we can see the creature running. It's just a harmless arctic fox. Oops.
There's no need to pack up the camp this morning. The tents can stay and our backpacks feel light as feathers. Walking is very easy and we travel the 12 kilometer distance to Barentsburg in two and a half hours. "You'll be one of the rare ones who arrive in Barentsburg on foot and also leaves on foot. That's quite cool." What if I studied Russian and went to work as a guide in Siberia?
It's hard to describe what it is like to leave a Norwegian small town, walk for four days and arrive to a place exactly like a Soviet town from your imagination. Despite this already being my second visit to Barentsburg, the second biggest settlement on Svalbard, I am amazed. One can find beautiful, handmade matryoshka dolls on the shelves of the souvenir shop. The abandoned house we had a little expedition in the last time, is being ripped apart. The exterior surfaces of old buildings are getting renewed and the person responsible of the design obviously has visions of some kind of a Legoland.
Our whole class is to be found from the pub, where a bunch of Norwegian tourists have gathered to enjoy some locally brewed beer. Someone asks if we also may enjoy this cultural experience although consuming alcohol during school trips is forbidden. "It is very much against the policy. But I think you should do it." Washing my hands and face with a soap with a scent of honey is one of the highlights of my day.
The way back home always goes faster, even today. Nothing beats the warmth of a camp fire.
Day 6
Hollendarbukta - Kapp Laila
17 kilometers, 8 hours
Instead of following the seashore and taking the shortest route from Hollendarbukta to Kapp Laila, we are obligated to head south, deeper into the Hollendardalen towards our waypoint. We end up climbing to the top of Oppkuven. The 400 meter ascent feels tough. During the last meters I end up having to swallow my pride and giving my backpack to Niklas, who seems to have endless reserves of energy. I can't decide which feels worse; being physically so tired or having to give up. The view from the top makes one forget any negative feelings she might have had and smiling comes easy again.
A pair of reindeer antlers tangled up in a cable hanging from an old metal structure remind me of a story I once heard in Alaska. I'm sending warm thoughts to the other side of the world. How are you doing? How was the hunting season? Are the horses ready for the winter yet? When will we see each other again?
The terrain is easy to walk again as we get down from Oppkuven. We find our way to the camp and my mind is puzzling with the river crossing we will be facing tomorrow. We get to enjoy dry toes and the heat of the fire for one more night. The northern lights wake up as it gets dark and they're glowing green, dancing on the sky. What a pleasure it is, being alive.
Day 7
Kapp Laila - Fardalen
23 kilometers, 8 hours
It's my turn to be the guide again. We leave on time and follow the seashore. The arctic foxes have left their footprints in the sand. We're passing Fossilvalley, which is not getting too many warm thoughts from us. The river is frozen and with our Flying Dutchman in front, we're crossing it way easier than any of us ever dared to dream of. We're more than an hour ahead of our schedule, the spirit is high and we're singing as we go.
By lunchtime I have handed the guide responsibilities, as well as the four extra kilograms caused by the rifle, over to Anniken. I feel pain in my knees when going downhill and keep wishing they will not let me down just yet. We see both of the two faster groups ahead of us as we get to the mouth of Fardalen. We get excited and feel the familiar relief that seizes you when you're able to see the camp after a long day of hiking. Then we see them moving and realize we're not there yet. "Oh please don't go any further!" I'm getting very tired and the Dutchman has pain in his hip.
We finally reach the camp and putting up the big tent is my responsibility. Trying to get the stakes to bite into the rocky ground feels like an overwhelming task today and I feel like laying down like a starfish on the tundra. There's no fish in the fish soup and I'm not allowed to go to bed yet at six o'clock. Some of the boys want to learn a Finnish sentence without knowing what it means. "Anna mulle piiskaa!"
Day 8
Fardalen - Nybyen
13 kilometers, 4 hours
The Dutchman is the guide for the day. He has the difficult job of keeping our minds away from the food, the shower and the bed that are awaiting for us in our destination. Mountains have been named after Bing, Hierta and Nordenskiöld. Now I know why.
The valley between Teltbergen and Lars Hiertafjellet is shorter and not as steep as I expected. I get up without that much effort and I feel both joy and relief as I finally step on the Longyear glacier. We're almost there! Sigmund left some surprise chocolate for us to be found in the bag with our crampons.
"What have you learned on this trip? Something you can take with you in further life?" I've learned, that when you think you've reached your limit and you just can't take any more - you're wrong. One is able to push his limits further than he thinks. I also learned that a warm and positive group is a huge source of strength and energy. In addition of me being happy with myself, I'm very happy with our group. We were constantly supporting each other and not afraid of being ourselves. It couldn't have been better.
My knees ache in the last downhill and suddenly we're in the end of Nybyen, exactly where we left from a week ago. We return tired and smelly, but above all a little bit wiser and richer in experiences. I don't think we are exactly the same we were when we left. The joy of achievement fulfills my mind. I did it. We did it.
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