Wednesday, 18 March 2015

Dog Sledding, The Preamble

We recently headed north (why, in the winter, why?), way up past the Arctic Circle to Kiruna, Sweden. Why again? To celebrate the 50th birthday of a friend. Someone told him the tall tale (tail?) of the joys of dog sledding and he decided that turning 50 skidding across the snow was the way to go. An invitation came our way and off we went.

Sign says we found the right place.

Any doubt, proof is in the typical commute. That's a cute mailbox hutch to the left.

Home base. The dog kennel area, city or suburban accommodations.

Who's out mushing, who's in napping? Check the boards on the rigging shack.

Tools of the trail, sleds and attachment lines. Maybe the saw is only for intimidation? Hope so!

At the cages, names identify who's hanging where. What's to eat? Salmon cakes, no refrigeration needed.

Sarah, exuding mis-placed optimism before the mushing begins?


  1. That is a cool way to welcome 50!

  2. So were there photos taken during the sledding process, or were you hanging on too tightly?