Geiterygghytta to Finse, 19 km.

The weather forecast for this day was unpleasant, with high winds all day – 13 m/s on average, and 20 m/s higher up on the ridges and passes. That’s not the kind of weather in which one would normally choose to go out skiing in the mountains. But we do have to get out of here somehow… We have a spare day planned in Finse, so we could wait a day, but tomorrow’s weather is supposed to be even worse. Today should be dry; tomorrow will be as windy as today but with added precipitation. So off we went.

The wind hit us straight in our faces the moment we left the hut. From then on we had wind all the time, from all directions. It was gusting hard enough to knock us over – at one point we were falling like bowling pins, one person after the other. You stop, bracing hard on the ski poles to stay upright, and then you fall anyway because the wind suddenly stops. At times the wind was almost pushing me backwards, uphill.

After an hour, the group leader checked in with us. “All good, guys? Ready for five more hours of this?” And at that point it didn’t feel too bad.

But shortly after this point it started snowing after all: sometimes wet, sleety snow, sometimes stinging, icy needles. Visibility got worse and worse. We could just see the next few twigs marking the trail, but not more than that. The snow and wind together were very disorienting. Much of the time I wasn’t even quite sure whether I was going down or up. One moment I’d think I’m skiing on flat ground and then I’d suddenly realize that it’s feeling a bit too easy, so I guess I’m going downhill then?

With the wind’s force behind the wet snow, everything I was wearing got soaked. My ski boots were literally sloshing, my mittens waterlogged and heavy. Water wicked in through the ends of my sleeves. Wool socks and mittens still kept my toes and fingers warm, though.

It wasn’t particularly cold – the temperature must have been around 0°C – but the wind chill was ferocious. For the first time this week I was wearing four layers: wool top, fleece jacket, down jacket, and waterproof jacket. I didn’t think I was cold, but I must have been, because by the afternoon I was shaking and shivering as soon as I stopped moving.

On top of everything, we took the wrong, longer route to Finse due to confusing signage. Landmarks we saw did not make sense when we tried to match them up with the map. When we thought we should be halfway, we were not even near.

The gale-force wind never relented. Every step was a struggle. Lift ski, put it down. Lift the other ski, put it down. Just keep moving. There was no chance to even stop for food, so I was running really low on energy. But I couldn’t have taken my mittens off for long enough to get a snack out of my bag, and I couldn’t have stood still for long enough to eat one.

And so I was utterly exhausted. My mind was going numb and the day was blurring together. How many hours had I been skiing? No idea. How much time had passed since that last descent? No idea. How much further to go? No idea.

I remember thinking to myself – this is how people die in the mountains. It’s not very cold, and we’re right on the path, we’re not hurt or lost or anything like that – but this is how people die. If I hadn’t been with a group, I can imagine how incredibly tempting it might have been to just sit down and rest for a while. But now all I could think was that I couldn’t slow the group down, so I had to keep moving.

The blizzard in Jotunheimen was challenging but even during its peak I was dry and warm and felt safe, so I could enjoy myself. It was an adventure. Today was something else. I hope I never have a skiing day like this again, ever.

Somehow we all made it to Finse. When the first of us got to the village, we didn’t know the way to the hut and huddled in the lee of a house, waiting for the rest of the group. Some local guy went past and wanted our help lifting something or other onto his snowmobile, and we were confusedly milling around, and couldn’t even think straight long enough to say no, and ask him for directions instead.

Finally we found the DNT hut and were met outside the hut by two members from our group who had arrived the day before, by bus. They helped us all get inside, get rid of our skis and packs, and led us straight into a large drying room. After a brief detour to the shower room where I could exchange my soaked clothes for dry things, I simply sat down on the wonderful heated floor in the drying room and stayed there. And at 5 o’clock in the afternoon finally ate my lunch. Then I wrung out my mittens and socks. I didn’t quite have water pouring out of my boots but it took over a day for them to dry all the way.

I borrowed two extra layers of wool before I felt that I could leave the room, and then wrapped myself in a blanket as well. I guess I must have been quite chilled after all. (One guy in our group ended up hypothermic and was almost carried down the last bit of the way.)

It took us 7.5 hours to ski today’s 19 kilometers.

I have no photos from today. Instead, enjoy this photo of a door decoration from Geiterygghytta.