That’s no way to get fit

Wednesday 19th - Friday 21st Jan.

Wednesday 19th Jan

Trond returned to Oslo last night, so just David and I head out for a 20km ski this morning on prepared trails to some (empty) cabins at a place called Prestholtstølen at around 1,200m.

High winds are forecast and as we get on to the flatter area where the cabins are the wind really shows its power. At around 50mph the wind is constantly trying to push us sideways as we travel forwards. It is tough going. Visibility is pretty poor, but we are able to follow the stakes put into the ground about every 5-10 metres that mark the trail. We make good progress considering the conditions, but we are very aware that this is only the case because of those markers.

On arrival the cabins are, as expected, all locked. We hunker down behind the nearest one and have a quick bite to eat while the wind howls around us, before heading back into the gale. We are now heading directly into the wind. Gloves and mits, 3 hats, goggles and it’s head down and keep moving.

There is a fantastic opportunity for a photo, or even better, a video. David is heading into the wind and a weak sun appears through the wind blown snow ahead of him. The light is fantastic with just enough visibility to see the contours of the snow and the power of the wind as it whips the snow across the ground. It is an image of the power of nature and man’s stubborn insistence on doing battle with it. There is however absolutely no way I am stopping, taking gloves off (which would blow away), fighting to access my camera, taking a photo, then fighting to put the camera away and put gloves back on. I keep my head down and follow on.

Once back down and off the plateau we are more sheltered from the wind. However, the prepared trails are very icy and we make hard going of some sections.

On one particularly tricky bit David falls and so do I. David is fine, but I manage to twist both my left knee and ankle. I am not a happy bunny. It takes me a while to get up.

No photo is available of the fall, but fortunately 2 passing hares were able to describe the scene.

My ankle does not feel great. We limp back to the cabin where I get some snow in a bag and ice my knee and ankle. No swelling yet, but both get more and more uncomfortable as the evening wears on. I’m not sure I will be going anywhere tomorrow.

Thursday 20th Jan

Not a great night. Now I have a bad rib, a bad knee and a bad foot/ankle. It is clear that I am not going anywhere for a few days. Dr. Google suggests that…

After 2 weeks, most sprains and strains will feel better.

Yay! 

But that you should…

Avoid strenuous exercise, such as skiing day after day whilst carrying a huge rucksack (when you clearly can’t even ski), for up to 8 weeks. As there's a risk of further damage.

Booo!

(Admittedly I may have slightly edited the activity to be avoided in that last bit, but you get the gist.)

My alarm goes off at 07.30. I tell David that I’m going nowhere. I make a cup of tea and go back to bed. To sulk. 

Only one thing to do at a time like this. Call Mrs P. I’m feeling pretty sorry for myself and Mrs P is really the only person who will be able to get me out of my deep blue funk. 

After a good bit of Mrs P style counselling I get up and try to think positive. David has gone out skiing, a gale is blowing, but the sun is shining and the view from the cabin is stunning. 

I just have to accept that I will be out of action for a good few days and try to fill my time productively. 

I am really determined to be there in less than 3 weeks time when we restart our journey. It is important that I rest this latest injury (has anyone else noticed that I seen rather accident prone?). The downsides are that I am getting no ski practice and that my fitness will suffer, but I must manage these injuries carefully. 

I spend the morning drawing, icing my various damaged limbs and watching the snow being blown past the cabin by the wind.

Who invited those hares inside?

When David returns I am able to kit up and go and help him put up our borrowed tent. It goes up pretty easily even in the high wind.

David and our borrowed Hilleberg tent.

David has decided to spend the night in it tonight. I’m banned, because I snore. Suits me. Cold tent. Minus 8 degrees c or a warm cabin? Which would you choose? 

Friday 21st Jan

Another uncomfortable night. Knee feels a bit better, but still warm to the touch and slightly swollen.

David says it was minus 2 in the tent last night and that he was only just warm enough. Odd because I was quite warm on our night in Pytten barn in the same make and model of sleeping bag wearing just a t-shirt. The temperature was only a degree warmer. Anyway…

Précis of the day. David went out skiing. I iced my knee and foot multiple times. Sorted out our food and set aside a box of provisions for 3 people for 2 days including an overnight in the tent ready for Trond’s return.

A lovely long call with Mrs P for my daily counselling session and then out to put the 4 man tent away. I put it away as though there were a storm blowing. It took about 15 mins, maybe 20, but was pretty simple despite being unable to kneel inside the tent just yet.

David returned shortly before 4pm. He looked pretty pooped. His words were, if I remember correctly, “Well I’ve skied 23km on prepared trails in 6 hours and I’m knackered!” He went on to say that there were quite a few people out today. All of whom had easily overtaken him. There was also some talk of small children and old ladies, but best not to go there.

David has been distracted since we came out of the mountains some days ago. Of this I have been very aware. Getting him to talk however, has proved difficult, but today he opened up and we had a good talk about the realities of our situation.

Among other things David (and me) is worried that someone is going to get seriously hurt. As David said, the twisted knee could just as easily been him.

Despite the obvious challenges I really, really want to try. Worst case scenario is that Trond suddenly realises what a hopeless case we are and finds some children and little old ladies to ski with instead (I’d say ‘old men’ but some might suggest that is us!).

We leave it there for now.

The atmosphere is lighter. This has I think been preying on David’s mind for some time.

I must admit that I do feel like a fraud. I am supposed to be skiing the length of Norway, but in reality I am sitting in a warm cabin with my leg quite literally up. I should be posting photos of us skiing through the wilderness not drawing pictures of my own mishaps.

It is certainly not what I (or, we) had expected.