It wasn’t that giving chase to the dark horse was wearing me through. And by no means did I feel I’d explored most of what it had to give. Sometimes, one needs to take a step back, and regain appreciation what they already have, no matter how fickle its tendencies.
Jotunheimen National Park houses 29 of the highest peaks in Norway. Though not the steepest or longest to ski, the sun does shine more consistently here than many other mountainous ranges in Norway. The joys of long approaches, rather than flicking heel risers up at the ocean, made it clear the most mundane part of ski touring had long been forgotten since entering the Arctic Circle. After being blown off the Norwegian Haute Route, and drowning troubles in Jager for the first week, the sun came out and provided an early corn harvest. Furrows were artfully made as our carves cut through the fields. The bountiful harvest lasted six days. Tired, sunburned, and happy, I’d skied what I came for, and found plenty to come back to. It was time again to chase the dark horse.
