Lapping Up The Kiruna Church

What was voted the most beautiful building in Sweden in 2001? Glad you asked. The Kiruna church. Completed in 1912, the church sits in the center of Kiruna. The town was founded on mining, a bit of a "wild west" at the turn of the 20th century. The former mining boss wanted a church and requested that the architectural style emulate a Lapp cottage.

Tourists, making their way to the church.

Kiruna church, indeed, looking like an over-sized Lapp cottage.

The beautiful interior, full of interlocking beams.

Details. On the exterior, there are 12 golden statues, each designed to show the different "frame of mind" of man. Updated to included staring at a smartphone? Back inside, a sea of benches, appropriately blue.

The inside framing, naturally soaring.

A look to the pulpit.

Looking back to the organ, an addition in 1957.

The mine in Kiruna has been such a success that its expansion is now causing the center of the town to collapse, including the area that includes the church. There's a complicated (and expensive) plan to move the whole downtown, including the Kiruna church.

Cruising Kiruna

A few more looks at Kiruna.

The buses rumble through, bringing many tourists to the area for various attractions and winter sports.

Either you work hard removing snow or pack it in until the thaw.

The signs are the only way to tell where the middle of the street is.

Bar mascot. Why not? They don't mess around when it comes to winter driving. Engine warmer extension cord and major light rig, common on cars around town.

Back at the airport, tarmac men hide until needed.

Landing In Kiruna, Sweden

You gotta go far for dog sledding, all the way north of the Arctic Circle. Hello Kiruna. As it turns out, Kiruna isn't there to support a bunch of running pooches.  They've dug a little hole in the ground for mining iron ore. Did we say little? It's the biggest underground ore mine in the world.

Little airport, big scenery.

The street signs tell you you're in Sweden. And the snow drifts.

A local cafe proudly displays Kiruna's mining history.

Did we mention snow? Easy, Boston! Either you end up buried or you call in the big boys with their tall trucks to help remove the white stuff.

Backyard requirements, a hockey goal and a sled to take shopping/hauling.

Drifting dumpster. Modular living.

Signs keep you on the right trail in the winter.

Dog Sledding, Day Two And Wrapping It Up

Where are we going? What are these dogs doing to us? Will it ever end? Too soon!

Up bright and early, time to head to the lake to fetch water. Under the wood cover is a hole in the ice. The pole is a heavy, mean ice pick. A future prop in a Coen brothers movie? Bucket for scooping. Scenery for appreciating.

Morning at the camp, no one stirring, especially the cold dogs.

Wait, there's a little movement in the high rent district. The memo must read, "Anywhere but in the dog house." Another tour group, hitting the trail.

Portrait of a musher.

Post finish line, time for the team photo. Posing with our fabulous guide, Mia and our mascot, Chili.

Dog Sledding, Cruising After Lunch

For lunch: a little mushroom soup, a sandwich, hot cocoa and we're ready to mush some more. The sun is out and the scenery is beautiful.

Taking a little break, time for photo ops, human and canine.
Sarah, making fast friends with Cumpis, which, hey, means "friend" in Swedish. Heading into the woods.

The sun setting, heading toward camp. A fine day of sledding under our belt.

Nighttime entertainment? The Northern Lights. Don't get too jealous (OK, be jealous), photos make the Lights appear much more intense than what you actually witness, at least the night we were out gazing. And shivering.

Thanks to the birthday boy, Paul Cohn, for the Northern Lights photograph.

Dog Sledding, Day One

Or how I learned to stop worrying and love bouncing off a sled and getting face-planted in the snow. Apologies to Dr Strangelove. And Sarah Talalay.

All right, hot cocoa time is over, time to get outfitted and up on that sled. The sled busters crew, all smiles.

Gearing up. Who looks more worried, Sarah or the dogs? Mutually assured destruction ahead?

Off we go. "Mush, Sarah, mush!" For some reason, her dogs had some trouble figuring out the forward gear.

Out on the trail. Us, with the birthday boy. Freeloader dog. Our guide's border collie, enjoying the free transportation.

Sarah, looking good.

James, looking beardly. A few hours into mushing, a stop for lunch.

Not too soon for James' dogs. That's Nelson taking the full nap. Havoc has not been wreaked, the sled has been flipped on purpose, so the wily dogs don't run off with it.

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?