What have I gotten myself into? On the flight from Oslo to Alta in the northernmost district of Arctic Norway, I read over the expedition documentation. The first paragraph weakens my otherwise unfaltering bravado.. “This expedition is an extremely physical and tough challenge and will require a high level of endurance”. I think quick and lay blame to Irelands win on Saturday against France for any stumbling moments of unfitness ahead! Either way, the celebrations were worth it...
On arrival in Alta, I meet the full team, hailing from Norway, the UK, France, Dubai, Australia and Singapore. To my elation, there are a couple of dog-sledding beginners in the group (did I mention I have never before donned a pair of skis?!), so my initial fears are put to bay. Alas, they are awakened again only a few minutes later upon the introduction of our expedition leader, Perr Thore, who looks tougher than an Afghani Mountain! He briefed us on what we should expect in the week ahead, and what he expected of us. His first words have a lasting effect: “The dogs are more important than you”.



Day 1
Early start – 6am. I shudder off my initial anxieties and decide to give it a good lash! We each get an arctic suit with boots this morning; I look more like a grease monkey on an oil tanker than an arctic explorer! Everyone on the ream has been assigned different tasks by Per Thore for the week. I’m expected to provide water and fuel for drinking and cooking, and feed all of the dogs with a few others. Next up, we are introduced to our dogs, a noisy affair! Having a lighter sled due to my role, I get 4 dogs. Even the dogs have different roles. On my team I have: Tin Tin, the pack leader, Beauty, number 2 in command, Sean Walker, the big young eager boy, and Lucky, the work horse. Following this I get an altogether brief tutorial on driving the dogs and sled, and how to harness and attach them to the sleds before we set off into the sunrise. As we leave, it stands at -22˚C.

Within 2 hours the weather takes a turn for the worse. Per Thore runs back and tells us to cover up, any skin that isn’t covered will be frost bitten within minutes, and we are about to head into worse. I check the thermometer I bought only the week before and it tells me it’s -30˚C. It only goes to -35˚C! To describe such low temperatures is difficult – you simply can’t feel it, it numbs any exposed parts within seconds, only to leave you with crushing pain when you heat up. We cover up and venture on over a long hill. When we reach the top and delve into the next valley, I understand gravely why Per Thore stopped to warn us. Wind blasts into our faces and the visibility reduces to barely meters. It was so cold, we simply had to continue on, for if we stop, we risk getting colder, too cold.
This continues for an arduous 4-5 hours before it subsides, and we stop for a break. For the first time since we last stopped, I check on my thermometer... it’s cracked! I’m told it was -46˚C during the hours before, and is now -38˚C. Never again will I complain of the mild Irish weather! The afternoon seems relatively easy in comparison to our rude awakening earlier. By 5pm we arrive at our log cabin for the night in an area known as Souluvombi. We covered 40km. At this stage, everyone is fit for bed, but there still is plenty to do. Some 2 hours later I have drilled for water in a nearby lake, fed all of the dogs and gathered wood for the fire. I am shattered!

Drilling for water on the lake
The area is so remote, the Norwegian Government built log cabins in the 1800’s to provide shelter for Postmen delivering to the whaling ports of the north coast. They were built at distances roughly one day apart, or 40-60km. Very few of the cabins remain in Norway, due to the Nazi retreat from the Russians during the Second World War, when they scorched any standing building as they left. The one we stay in tonight was spared due to the quick action of the locals back in 1944. They dismantled the cabin piece by piece and hid the timber and stove in the surrounding area. After the war, it was re-built, and remains standing today.
During dinner (salmon caught in the river) we discover that there have been a few injuries during the day, including Frost Nip (the first stages of frostbite) to 2 people. After dinner we all hit the sack. I’m almost too tired to think back on my first day and sleep soundly despite the cold

Day 2
The bad weather continued during the night, but has cleared this morning, the temperature rising to an almost -25˚C. It’s still dark when I rise to dress and run through my tasks. The astute ones among you will notice I didn’t mention anything about showering and washing etc. This sort of activity was seriously frowned upon during the trip! Within hours I have the jobs done with a hearty meal of porridge into me and we are set to go.
Although the weather today was much more agreeable, the fresh snow hampered our progress, as the dogs find it much more difficult having to pull through the deeper snow. This equated to a lot of running for the day.
That afternoon, we had to pass through a remote village. This was the only point during the expedition that we came across anything close to modern civilisation – and it struck havoc to our progress! We had to traverse a road to get access to the frozen riverbed on the far side of the village. This meant a brief skate on an icy road of about 1800 meters downhill. This would have been achievable, but the hairpin turns proved otherwise. Only Per Thore and myself remained upright on the sleds, a proud moment indeed! A few more injuries occurred here, including a dislocated shoulder and various bumps and bruises. The doctor certainly paid his dues.
On the final, altogether more easy, stint of the day, I had time to take in our surroundings, and what a joy! For the first time, I could actually brave the cold and take some photos while on the sled as we crossed a lake to our next cabin for the night. Today we have covered another 40km.

Day 3
On day 3 we travel from Maze to Mollisjokk, almost 65km away, and probably the most remote location during the trip.
The day proved difficult, as it was our most mountainous leg, which meant a lot of pushing with the sled to help the dogs. The dogs are amazing. They love the sledding, and are among the best trained dogs I have come across. Each evening after I fed the dogs, all 68 of them would stop eating and howl to the skies. It’s thought that this is their way of saying thank you! I felt I was the one who should be thanking them, hauling me around all day. Either way, it felt truly special every time, and never failed to make the hairs stand on my neck.
Mollisjokk is a Sami Settlement of about 20. The Sami are said to be among the oldest people of Europe, residing in north Norway, Sweden, Finland and the Kola Peninsula of northwest Russia, descending from prehistoric clans of the area. They are still semi-nomadic, and are totally self-sufficient, reindeer herding being their main source of income.
They cooked up a beautiful dinner of Arctic Char fish soup and homemade breads followed by Brunost brown cheeses, a Sami specialty.
As if the dinner wasn’t enough of a treat, that night we witnessed one of the world’s most extraordinary phenomenons, the Northern Lights (or Aurora Borealis). Although we did see the Northern lights on most nights, there was most activity on this night. The Northern Lights are caused by electronic particles carried by the polar winds away from the Sun. It’s an awe-inspiring show of light in the night sky, almost hypnotic in its graceful fluidity. We really felt privileged and ‘lapped’ up the experience!
Day 4-5
The next morning we set off a little later, as we only planned to sled 40km across an open lake, Jiesavri, to another Sami settlement Jotka.
Jiesavri Lake is the biggest lake in the Finnmark area. Sledding across its vast plain of frozen ice over 1 meter thick gave a surreal feeling of being on an uninhabited planet. It was peaceful in its emptiness, almost a spiritual experience.
This was probably the easiest day, with temperatures hovering around the -25-30˚C mark for the most part, and thanks to the lake, no steep inclines! What more, on arrival at Jotka, the Sami family hosting us had built an outdoor hot tub on their settlement... a real treat out in the wilderness.

Day 6
The final day was the sledding-climax of the week. Everything we learned during the week would be required to successfully navigate this final leg. The route was mainly downhill, with many steep descents with sharp turns and jumps through dense forests with unforgiving drops either side of our route.
Unfortunately, due to injuries and exhaustion, 2 of the team members could not complete the day, and were ferried out by ski-doo.
The day was extremely demanding, but the thought of home pushed us on and we each dug our final reserves and persevered through the ancient forests, one area of which is known as ‘Death Seeker’ in Norwegian! Our newfound skills paid off, and we all made it through... relatively safely.
After a great days sledding, we arrived back to our start-off point at Gargia. The dogs were elated as much as we were, and couldn’t wait to get back to their little huts after sleeping out all week.
This being our final night, the team had a celebratory meal in the nearby Ice Hotel, which proved a dreamlike and unique experience. And of course... a ‘few’ drinks were had!



The expedition was a most memorable, exciting, and testing experience, leaving me with a thorough sense of rejuvenation and pride. I’d recommend it to anyone with a sense of adventure and ambition; it’s a rewarding experience not to be found every day in our world. To raise money for charity is a difficult task, and takes a lot of guts to get up and go, but it’s a must for anyone who enjoys a challenge.