Sunday, 2 November 2025
Good morning,
The first time I went this far north in winter, I thought it would be pitch black all the time. But it’s not. The first light hits you. Soft, unreal blue. A ton of blue you don’t see anywhere else. I came here about 15 years ago, and now I make sure to come back every season.
It’s quiet. Intense. And we do it totally opposite to most. We time the skin to go up with the light. The colours shift, blue then pink. Normally your mind wanders on the way up. Here it doesn’t. You’re pulled into the light, the snow, the moment.
Then we ride in the darkness. Headlamps on. Big, powerful beams. You see better than in daylight. The terrain, the snow, your lines, the tracks you’ve made. Everything’s sharper. Your focus tightens. You ski better even, and become a better skier after.
People think nothing happens up here in winter, that everyone hides inside. But locals aren’t bears. They don’t hibernate. They’re out there, skiing, living, loving it. This kind of skiing is part of life here. Doing what they do is possible, it’s fun, and it’s the best way to connect with this place.
It’s a very intense experience. Human. Simple. Something every skier should try at least once. Don’t be sheep. Do something different. Trust me, you’ll love it as much as I do.
Cheers, Fred
By the way, here are some good tunes to get into the arctic-night mood