I could guess that the family was not headed to the ski slope because one of the children was pouting over the cross-country option. Taking the family out into the mountains, also known as the fjäll, is usually a much easier undertaking than the ski slope. It is fun for the entire family to enjoy. Everyone from age seventy-eight to seven can participate and still enjoy the day. The trick is that the parents have to sell the idea to the kids. This usually involves two things: taking the snowmobile for some portion of the journey, or promising waffles at the alpine waffle house, an hours tour above the cabin. On this particular day, the kids were promised both: snowmobile ride with dad, and waffles from Mormor.
Moving in the fjäll is easy when the weather is nice, but getting out the door is usually the hardest part of the day. With eight family members all working to get out of the door in the same small space in the mudroom, you can imagine the clutter.
“Where are my gloves, have you seen my hat, my shoes don’t fit, don’t forget to lock the door, is this your jacket or mine?”
Eventually everyone gets out of the door, and all we have to do is begin the short climb behind the house to access the fjäll above. In the posse we had the family Gustavsson, consisting of my aunt and uncle with their two children Anton and Jenny, my seventy-eight year old grandmother, my newly turned fifty-year-old mother, my father, and myself.
It can be incredibly blank high on the fjäll. You could try your hardest to put some depth into a photograph, but all you would get is a white landscape. Also, I just learned that white balance makes photos green: in the future you will get to see washed out white photos instead of washed out green ones. Janne with said background.
Dad and I took a different track up with Mormor who can tell a story at every rest. Her stories are much appreciated, because I can see that she lived within the story: that she was once part of the past. She speaks calmly and slowly in English or in Swedish, makes eye contact with her audience, moves her arms and points her poles slowly to show the landscape. Sometimes she closes her eyes and points her head toward the sun, angling her head upwards as she speaks of the past.
Traveling behind her, I could see how her body was conditioned to the movements of skis. She reacted with haste to every inconsistency in the track or misplaced push with her pole. I could not help but take photographs and video of her just to have proof that we were all there. Everything was completely new again, and that I had to capture each moment in order to guarantee that the moment existed.
Dad and Mormor breaking trail.
Dad and Mormor posing beneath Hamra Fjället.
The entire family met at the waffle house, which is nestled in a grove of birches that are slightly shielded from the arctic. It is a small cabin with a low ceiling and an aroma of Swedish waffles. There are taxidermy fjäll creatures on the walls, and tables with long wooden benches for sitting and traditional table clothes made with old cloth scraps.
Andersborg Våffel Stuga: The savior for many cranky ski days.
The family in front of the snowed-in Waffle House.
The family ordered a round of waffles, served in the traditional style with whipped cream and cloudberry preserve. The family laughed and giggled at the children who were overjoyed with the treat, although my excitement could hardly be contained as well.
This is what you get: a traditional crispy Swedish waffle with preserves and whipped cream.
The meal finished with the customary wipe down of the lunch table with the palm of mom's hand and everyone was outside again. After the skis go on, everyone returns to the cabin. The day was simple and the weather was good. Three generations of Larssons found themselves in the same mountains that they have been traveling in for fifty years. Through the lens of my new excitement over blogging, I saw everything as new and temporary. In reality, it was a tour we have frequented. It was the trip that we show to everyone who comes and visits us, a tour that has become ours.
The way home can take us through the trees sometimes. Our water comes from an aquifer that is connected to the drainage on the left.
It is however okay to have the forest all to yourself sometimes.
Janne below Hamra Fjället which is just above our house. This particular spot is the Faböval, which is an old Viking homestead.
John I am becoming a blogg junkie!!! Love it
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