Ice cold in Ustaoset
I’ve done some stupid things in my time. I even once answered my mother back. I still bear the scars of that particular foolishness.
I have however excelled myself. Here’s a clue as to my latest hare-braned idea…
What nonsense is this?
This, dear reader, is a hole. A hole in the ice. This hole was first excavated in the ice of lake Ustavatnet at Ustaoset back in November when the ice was just centimetres thick. It is now more than 2 metres thick and the water that rises up to the edge is only just above zero degrees centigrade (32 degrees Fahrenheit for my US readers). The water is so cold that Hilde, (Keeper of the hole) was constantly having to scoop ice out of it to stop it freezing over.
I’m sure that you have guessed what I decided to do by now, but for those still in the dark. The lovely Hilde maintains this hole so that idiotic tourists and hardened locals can pay her good money to lower their puny human bodies into the water. Apparently for fun. Hence the ladders.
Hilde asking if I am well insured
My idea was born last year, when I saw bathers braving the icy waters in Oslo in January. Unfortunately, Mrs P and I didn’t have enough time when we were there last week, which is a shame because the water there is a balmy +6°C. So, when we arrived in Geilo, I foolishly did an internet search and found the simply splendid Hilde and her icy hole. Geilo Ice bathing and thought, “Why not?”
Can I get out now?
So, off I pottered, with Mrs P in tow as film crew, official photographer and checker of life insurance details. Mrs P was not as keen on the idea as I was, but I promised that I wasn’t just doing it for a good blog story. I didn’t of course mention the friend at home who had said he would buy me a pizza if I did it.
Hilde, literally keeping me calm.
I undressed at the side of the hole thanking the Norse Gods that it was a mere -6°C with no wind. Unlike previous days which had been -15°C with windchill down to -25°C. Woollen socks, hat and mittens are compulsory by the way. A swimming costume is not!
Hilde told carefully coached me through the whole process. She said I needed to remember to breathe (easier to forget than you might think when the cold water hits the family jewels). In through the nose and out through the mouth.
I forgot this almost instantly. Out through the mouth, then in through the mouth over and over while the eyes got wider and wider.
I was struggling, but I’d been in for a good millionth of a second, so decided I was getting out.
Hilde though had other ideas. She reminded me to breathe, she encouraged me to relax, she checked I had paid, then she let me out.
I had been in the water for more than a minute, which is about seventy seconds longer than I had expected.
Not dead yet!
Despite being literally covered in a thin sheet of ice and standing on a frozen lake at -6°C I felt strangely ok. Definitely not dead and possibly even good. (Though, in a parallel universe I didn’t make it and Mrs P is currently sunning herself in the Bahamas on the insurance money).
By the time I had dressed the hole had already begun to freeze over.
Sartorial elegance a la ice hole
A few days earlier we had seen a group of naked females leaping in and out of the icy water. Hilde said, “Oh, that was the Danish girls. If you ever see naked people here they are always from Denmark.”
The delightful Hilde even managed to find us a lift back to Geilo. I think she wanted me away as quickly as possible in case I suddenly dropped dead of a heart attack.
A mention should be made of the lift, her name was Hedda and she spoke perfect English with a very slight Cockney accent. (Brilliant!). Hedda is a regular bather in the ice hole and had just got out when I arrived. A huge thanks to her for the ride and some marvellous stories during the journey.
If you fancy doing this I cannot recommend Hilde in Ustaoset highly enough (see link). She was such a fantastic host and guide that, when we return to Geilo, Mrs P is going to have a go.
Me and the incomparable Hilde after my icy dip
Mrs P warming up in preparation for her turn in the lake by cuddling up to Trond’s dog Slate.
In other news…
I met up with Trond one year on from our 60 days together skiing the northern half of Norge på langs. We skied round the lake at Geilo and reminisced about the journey.
He hasn’t changed a bit (still a better skier than me).
Later that evening Mrs P and I spent an extremely pleasant evening with Trond and his lovely wife, Karin at their incredible cabin in Renedalen We were thoroughly spoiled and fed amazing food. A night to remember.
Our marvellous hosts
Reunited. The intrepid conquerors of Nord Norge på langs.
