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caulkheadBlame it on reading Winter Holiday, or maybe Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates, or White Boots, but I've always fantasised about skimming smoothly over a frozen black lake, the world silent around me.
This wasn't that holiday. But it was a lot of fun.
I was travelling with a company that specialise in organising small group tours in Sweden - me and my friend T, A, travelling on her own, and a family group of five. We were picked up in a minibus at the airport and issued with quite staggering amounts of kit before setting off into the unknown. The tour location is decided more or less on the day, depending where the ice is - in this case, that meant a two and a half hour drive north, so no time to do more than clamber into all the kit, walk out onto the ice, and practice getting skates on and off. We were also encouraged to jump up and down on the ice and attempt to jab holes in it with our sticks - spoiler, you can't. A great way of getting over the "Arrgh arrrgh arrrgh I am standing on a frozen pond what am I doing I am going to DIE" feeling most of us had as we stepped out from the bank.
Skating began in earnest the next morning on a different lake (over three days, we went to five in all). Rink skating is very little help. The motion is, if anything, more like the sort of skating you do on skis. Figure skating technique does work, sort of, and I kept reverting to it when my mind drifted, but I could see it took a lot more effort for a lot, lot less speed. If you want to try tour skating but think not being able to skate is a problem, don't worry. It's probably an advantage. As long as you have reasonable stamina and can ski or do something that requires some balance, you'll be fine.
We spent the first day getting used to the ice on this and another lake, with plenty of stops for lunch and/or tea. I expected to be fascinated by the scenery around me, but I spent a lot of time looking down,instead. The ice underfoot is beautiful, and always changing - black and full of bubbles like champagne, crackled and frosted, splintered, multicoloured... Sometimes, there's an inch or so of water over the ice, and it's like skating on the water itself. And then there's overreis. Overreis is evil. It's when you have a layer of thin ice that is refreezing over an inch or so of water, with hard ice underneath, and it is just slightly too thin to bear you. And you go through it with a crunch, which is quite destabilising, and if you are *really* unlucky, it's deep enough that your socks get wet. The boots are well insulated, and I have pretty warm feet anyway, but nobody likes squelchy feet.
I was never cold - thermals, a mid layer and waterproofs were about right, with an insulated jacket for stops. I DO recommend fully waterproof trousers, not softshells. If you fall over - and I did, a lot - in an inch of water, you will appreciate them. Didn't get hurt, though. I scoffed at the kneepads at first, but they were amazing.
The second day, we went further north, and skated all round a small lake - about 30km in all. Rainy, but beautiful ("I like the English," said our guide. "You know how to have fun in the rain.") The third, we only skated in the morning, on hard, smooth ice, in glorious sunshine - and quite a lot of wind. This is fabulous when it's behind you, even better on a broad reach - and bloody hard work when you're beating into it. Still fun, but after two and a half hours, I was definitely ready for a shower.This was the first time I'd really felt that I'd worked *hard* all weekend, though I think that was because we'd been going at a leisurely beginners pace, rather than because it's a particularly low energy sport! The ice was thinner today - though still plenty thick enough, it would only bear about 50 people at once rather than 300 - and it boomed and sang in the sun. Once, I saw a crack shoot open under my skates - by this stage, unnerving rather than terrfiying, I'd skated over hundreds in the course of the weekend.
Accommodation was in a room for two in a rather lovely youth hostel, and we cooked and ate as a group. This worked really well, though I suspect a group which had fewer enthusiastic cooks, and no brilliant organiser who's used to feeding large groups (NOT the leader - T, who is a district guide commissioner) might have had more problems. All in all, a very enjoyable weekend and I would definitely do it again.Enter your cut contents here.
This wasn't that holiday. But it was a lot of fun.
I was travelling with a company that specialise in organising small group tours in Sweden - me and my friend T, A, travelling on her own, and a family group of five. We were picked up in a minibus at the airport and issued with quite staggering amounts of kit before setting off into the unknown. The tour location is decided more or less on the day, depending where the ice is - in this case, that meant a two and a half hour drive north, so no time to do more than clamber into all the kit, walk out onto the ice, and practice getting skates on and off. We were also encouraged to jump up and down on the ice and attempt to jab holes in it with our sticks - spoiler, you can't. A great way of getting over the "Arrgh arrrgh arrrgh I am standing on a frozen pond what am I doing I am going to DIE" feeling most of us had as we stepped out from the bank.
Skating began in earnest the next morning on a different lake (over three days, we went to five in all). Rink skating is very little help. The motion is, if anything, more like the sort of skating you do on skis. Figure skating technique does work, sort of, and I kept reverting to it when my mind drifted, but I could see it took a lot more effort for a lot, lot less speed. If you want to try tour skating but think not being able to skate is a problem, don't worry. It's probably an advantage. As long as you have reasonable stamina and can ski or do something that requires some balance, you'll be fine.
We spent the first day getting used to the ice on this and another lake, with plenty of stops for lunch and/or tea. I expected to be fascinated by the scenery around me, but I spent a lot of time looking down,instead. The ice underfoot is beautiful, and always changing - black and full of bubbles like champagne, crackled and frosted, splintered, multicoloured... Sometimes, there's an inch or so of water over the ice, and it's like skating on the water itself. And then there's overreis. Overreis is evil. It's when you have a layer of thin ice that is refreezing over an inch or so of water, with hard ice underneath, and it is just slightly too thin to bear you. And you go through it with a crunch, which is quite destabilising, and if you are *really* unlucky, it's deep enough that your socks get wet. The boots are well insulated, and I have pretty warm feet anyway, but nobody likes squelchy feet.
I was never cold - thermals, a mid layer and waterproofs were about right, with an insulated jacket for stops. I DO recommend fully waterproof trousers, not softshells. If you fall over - and I did, a lot - in an inch of water, you will appreciate them. Didn't get hurt, though. I scoffed at the kneepads at first, but they were amazing.
The second day, we went further north, and skated all round a small lake - about 30km in all. Rainy, but beautiful ("I like the English," said our guide. "You know how to have fun in the rain.") The third, we only skated in the morning, on hard, smooth ice, in glorious sunshine - and quite a lot of wind. This is fabulous when it's behind you, even better on a broad reach - and bloody hard work when you're beating into it. Still fun, but after two and a half hours, I was definitely ready for a shower.This was the first time I'd really felt that I'd worked *hard* all weekend, though I think that was because we'd been going at a leisurely beginners pace, rather than because it's a particularly low energy sport! The ice was thinner today - though still plenty thick enough, it would only bear about 50 people at once rather than 300 - and it boomed and sang in the sun. Once, I saw a crack shoot open under my skates - by this stage, unnerving rather than terrfiying, I'd skated over hundreds in the course of the weekend.
Accommodation was in a room for two in a rather lovely youth hostel, and we cooked and ate as a group. This worked really well, though I suspect a group which had fewer enthusiastic cooks, and no brilliant organiser who's used to feeding large groups (NOT the leader - T, who is a district guide commissioner) might have had more problems. All in all, a very enjoyable weekend and I would definitely do it again.Enter your cut contents here.
Everything sounds great except the overreis
Date: 2020-02-27 07:47 am (UTC)I'm interested that you didn't find your figure skating skills much of a benefit, but that the motion was more like skiing, since I went skating for the first time in 20 years post Yuri on Ice and found that I was much better than I had been previously due to skiing!
Re: Everything sounds great except the overreis
Date: 2020-02-27 08:21 am (UTC)It's hard to know what you don't know, of course, but me and Astrid, who as far as I could tell were the more experienced figure skaters, didn't seem to be getting the hang of anything any faster than the others, and slower than some.
ETA I think the difference is that in figure skating, the push comes from your skating leg. In tour skating, the push comes from the free leg, sideways not forwards, and the skating leg just glides (usually a great way to catch your toepick and fall over). I wish I'd worked that out three days ago!
(no subject)
Date: 2020-02-27 08:40 am (UTC)I blame childhood public information films for the "if you set one foot on an icy pond, you will fall through and die" reaction. It is sensible for the UK climate but very inconvenient in Scandinavia. Finns had to firmly point to the tractor driving across the lake and the bonfire they were about to light in the middle of it before we could even get to start drilling the little ice fishing hole where I could actually see how thick it was.
(no subject)
Date: 2020-02-27 09:22 am (UTC)The ice wasn't prepared in any way, but there was no snow whatsoever - none, anywhere - which I imagine made life easier. Frozen ripples and bumps arent too difficult to cope with, though twigs and reeds can trip you. The sudden deceleration when you hit an inch of water is worse, though. On the last day, the surface of the ice had been smoothed by a layer of rain the day before, and it was harder and smoother than any rink ice I've ever skated on.
Every time we passed a large enough hole in the ice, our guide stopped and *stuck his hand in* to test the depth. This was reassuring, but - brrrrrrr!