Husky sledding in Norway

Dog sledding is a big thing in Norway. Tanya and I decided we'd go for a dog sled in the mountains while we were there, because Tanya loves huskies and we both love icy mountains. It was fantastic fun, more exercise than expected, and a great way to see a bit of the countryside.

Off we go.

The dogs on our trip were Alaskan huskies, which are less stocky and more varied in look than the classic Siberian dogs that you might imagine. They are working dogs, not pets, but they obviously love their jobs. The dogs that went with us were gleeful and ready to run the moment they were harnessed on to the sleds. There was much barking and pawing of the snow. The dogs apparently work during the winter months and have the summer months off to relax.

Husky train.

Tanya and I shared a sled, so one of us was sitting in the sled as a passenger, and the other was driving, standing on the two runners at the back of the sled. We swapped frequently. The passenger gets to just wistfully watch the countryside go past, take photos, and generally enjoy the landscape. Meanwhile the driver has to work, hard. The dogs and the driver are a team, so the driver must help push the sled when the going is hard - either with one foot like on a skateboard, on flat ground or on slight inclines, or with both feet full-on running up hills. This part alone is exhausting. The driver also has to lean into corners to prevent the whole thing from falling over. And they have control of the all important brake, which is a simple contraption that puts spikes into the snow when you stand on it.

Demonstration of brake use.

The dogs on the lead sled are the most experienced and understand commands from that driver. All the other dogs follow the front sled. Likewise on any single sled, the first dogs know what to do and the next dogs follow the first ones. They don’t listen to what you say and neither should they - they don’t know you, and besides they speak Norwegian. They just run. When you let the brake off the dogs will go for it and continue at full pace until either the sled is simply too heavy (i.e. on a hill) or you make it too heavy through application of the brake. Then the dogs will look back at you accusingly and bark a lot, which is just to say: why on earth have we stopped!?

Through the forest.

If you want to stop the sled for a while, for example to swap drivers, then you have to deploy an anchor. It is an anchor just like on a boat, and you stick it into the snow. The passenger keeps a hand on the anchor in case the driver falls off, because without access to the brake the anchor forms the only possible method the passenger would have to stop the sled.

To the mountains!

So we set off with all this in mind. I was the passenger first and I had no idea how hard Tanya was working until I got my turn to drive. Any idea you may have about just mushing along enjoying the view is wildly wrong - it is physical work and lots of it. Long distance sled racers have my respect and admiration just for how fit they must be. The dogs have even more of my respect and admiration for remaining so positive throughout the whole process.

Crossing a frozen river.

From the base we weaved our way through forest and small hills (hard work for Tanya!) and onto some plains which were dotted with frozen lakes. We crossed a river, frozen solid blue. Arctic mountains rose around us and were bathed in the sunlight which only directly hit the very tops. We zoomed through the shadow underneath.

Bugger. I stacked it. This is mid-stack.

The dogs were incredibly friendly. They were happy to say hello, even happier to go running in the snow pulling two heavy tourists, and afterwards they curled into tired furry balls to recuperate. We crashed the sled onto its side only twice, which I consider to be good going, and the dogs were very good about the whole thing.

Aftermath of the crash; Tanya dutifully deploys snow-anchor.

This sledding day was with Active Tromsø, who were fantastic - give them a look if you're going to Tromsø.