My last day in Tänndalen has arrived, and I said farewell by taking a little ski tour up on Stor Hamra behind the house. Mormor came with me so that I could show off. I told her that I could top out in twenty minutes to encourage her to come along, and so that she would not have to wait for ever to see me ski. Believe it or not, I was not full of shit, and I topped out in twenty, although I could not have completed another run.
The skiing was as I expected perfect spring conditions. I have often skied on Hamra this winter, and skiing in the same place repeatedly certainly says a lot about a place. I am lucky to have such a gem right behind the family cabin. I am also fortunate enough to have a grandmother who can go out on a ski tour with me and be my camera gal (78 years old and still moving on skis: thank you for a wonderful season Mormor!).
I am looking forward to next season. This past week has offered enough blue sky to warrant rainy days for the rest of the year. Many thanks to the state of Härjedalen for putting up with an American!
This was our fuel for the day: Blood Pudding with fried salt pork (the red sauce on the side is not blood, but lingon berries).
Mormor breaking trail in the collapsing spring snow.
The Southern Shoulder of Left Hamra.
At the center of the picture there should be a little red dot. That red dot is my grandmother taking a picture of me, except on her blog it will say, "At the center of the picture there is a little blue dot, that is my handsome and amazing and crafty and strong grandson from America."
Mormor kindly waiting for me in the Fabövall underneath Hamra.
JW with Hamra in the backgorund.
The last turns of the Season.
This is me on the way up.
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