(editor’s note: ย this report is for Lyngen, Norway around April 3rd, 2014)
Fredrik Aspo
The dark horse continues to make things difficult at best. The only reliable factor is Murphy’s Law. Things that won’t happen, can. Winter came back briefly, with a vengeance. Cold snapped at joints, frosted hair on the uphill, took toes as payment for powder snow. Hungry sharks hid amongst decent turns. It wasn’t long before P-tex was in short supply. Then the heavens, if you want to call them that, opened and hammered rain. Warmth forced us to consider the alpine, flat light and wind chased us back down. If it wasn’t already obvious, Lyngen is not to be trifled with in March.
At best, we see the light at the end of the tunnel briefly before things are once again clamped shut. Lyngen sets its traps prudently: well baited, with forbidden fruit too delicious and low hanging to turn down. Webs spun with astounding precision and complexity, we streak through the small holes taking what we can. Like the fox that outsmarts the hunter, we know how earned each moment is, and enjoy them that much more.
