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.
Who's out mushing, who's in napping? Check the boards on the rigging shack.
At the cages, names identify who's hanging where. What's to eat? Salmon cakes, no refrigeration needed.