The landscape is black and white—the light lacks the tone of the day, and the shadows are unnaturally long. I think I see movement somewhere further, just as if someone were skiing there. Or is it a movement added by my imagination because Jaakko says nothing. There is a circle around the moon, which I know is a sign that we need to act fast. This is the first and probably the only moment we will have if we want to ski in the moonlight. Now I finally see the landscape my dad once talked to me about.
Black Diamond Presents: Light in the Darkness
We are in the middle of Lapland wilderness. The distance to the nearest settlement is some forty kilometers and we haven’t seen a sign of other people in four days. The early winter is a particularly challenging time in the Kilpisjärvi wilderness area. There is only little daylight and raging blizzards are common this time of the year. We’ve been hoping for the weather to clear up and now we finally see some signs of it.
The Kilpisjärvi wilderness area is located at 69 degrees latitude in the mountain plateau. There is relatively little snow since the early winter and cold weather have made the snow cover particularly weak. The snow profiles I made in the past few days revealed a layer of ice near ground. On top of that there was a layer of faceted snow and the whole snowpack lies on top of that weak layer. Snowpack keeps collapsing with large whoomp sounds every now and then as we skin toward the top. We make sure we stay away from avalanche terrain when ascending. Here we can only rely on our own help, and we do not want to take any extra chances.
Earlier in the day our snowmobile got stuck on the ice of the lake. Water had risen under the snow cover, and it was already too late as I noticed it. We used our available daylight removing the sled from the ice. Miika’s boots got wet, and it was close enough that his feet didn’t get completely frozen. The twenty-degree frost instantly froze the wet boots into a clunk of ice, but luckily, we quickly got him to a nearby hut to warm his feet.
My father told me how he had skied in such a bright moonlight that it was almost as bright at night as it was during the day. Now the moon appears between the clouds, illuminating the landscape almost as bright as the day. Suddenly it is dark again when the clouds come in front of the moon. Clouds bring in snowflakes, and they seem to remain floating in the air.
We wake up for real as we reach the peak. The wind blowing from the west freezes us in the white frost and we try to find shelter behind the rocks. I look at Miika’s beard, which has frozen into a white bush around his mouth. It’s so cold it feels like the words would freeze in the middle of a sentence and we try to keep moving as quickly as possible.
The moon stays behind the clouds and illuminates the slope dimly as we set off. The landscape reminds me of the surface of the moon and the dry dust rising in the air from our skis makes the image even stronger. We ski in stages, from one safe place to another. The lights of our headlamps sweep the surface of the snow, and the moonlight draws white streaks here and there. We feel as if we were exploring a new world.
We ski back to the snowmobiles and return to the hut. Miika’s beard has frozen in the balaclava, and it takes time before it melts. The thermometer shows -27 degrees, and the moon illuminates the yard as I look out the window. I imagine seeing a skier on the horizon, but he disappears the moment I see him.
--Antte Lauhamaa
