Day 2: Bjordalsbu to Iungdalshytta, 17 km.

I started the day by putting my scout camp kitchen experience to great use, cooking porridge for 14 people. Seemed like basics to me, but the porridge got a lot of praise. No lumps! Perfect consistency!

The weather forecast promised strong wind in the afternoon so we had an early start, off at 7:30 already. The day started with thick fog – we had no idea what was around us. Mountains, maybe? Then the sun came out and the fog disappeared, and we had beautiful views the rest of the day.

The terrain was gently undulating. Up a bit, down a bit, flattish for a while, up again, down again. After yesterday’s full day of uphill skiing, this was very pleasant. And with mostly nice snow everywhere, too!

Downhill skiing on back country skis is a bit challenging and generally not very elegant, unless you’re a pro. Today’s slopes were nice and gentle, so it was all fun. On the gentlest ones I just plant my feet wider than usual and ski straight down. When the slope gets slightly steeper I switch to the snow plow, either straight down or turning. It gets tricky when the snow is uneven – sometimes soft, sometimes icy. Turning on ice with stiff, narrow back country skis is bloody hard so you have to aim for the snowy patches and time your turns right. It took a while for our whole large group to get down the slopes, which gave us lots of leisurely snack breaks.

We finished the day’s skiing with a lake crossing, passing a bunch of houses that are probably a fishing village in the summer but felt bizarre in their abandonment in winter. And then another 2 km to the hotel, during which I somehow suddenly ran out of energy and didn’t think of anything but getting to the end.

The hut was more like a hotel, serving hot soup and hot chocolate and all kinds of luxuries. We spent a long lazy afternoon there. I do see the benefits but I still like the old school self-service huts much better. A lazy afternoon can be restful and pleasant, but carrying water and cooking dinner together is more of a bonding experience.

Note to self: Iungdalshytta serves mediocre food; the broccoli soup tasted like old socks. And Norwegian rømmegrøt is weirdly gluey.