09.12.22 - Dogsled journey at Liverpool Land

By Svend Erik Nielsen

From being something that always seems to be lacking in the hustle and bustle of everyday life, time suddenly becomes something that there’s plenty of. On a dogsled journey in East Greenland time becomes something you have to relate to in a new way. The quiet moments on the sled represent quality time with the chance of reflection; a much-needed breather.

“Quick, jump onto the sled, grab the upright and hold tight!” This is the starting command from Scoresby – yes, that’s the name of my sled driver. The sled races through the wild white landscape, whilst behind us Ittoqqortoormiit gets smaller and smaller in the distance. The Greenlandic snow adventure has begun.

Just like the dogs, I’m ready; ready for adventures and hardships. In other words, ready for a winter adventure.
 

The dogs have been looking forward to being let loose, and we race over the sea ice at great speed. “Ilii, illi!” shouts Scoresby as he communicates commands to the dogs.
 
In splendid sunshine from clear skies we drive past Cape Hope, one of the area’s two abandoned settlements. Suddenly Scoresby slows the sled to a complete stop. Fresh polar bear tracks tell me we’re not alone! We follow the tracks through the abandoned settlement, but don’t catch a glimpse of the bear.
 
Our speed is high over the flat, several metre-thick ice at Hurry Fjord. The April sun causes the temperature to creep up and nudge minus 5 degrees, which is enough to be able to sit comfortably on the sled’s musk ox hide without the need for gloves or a woolly hat. In fact, I can feel myself sweating in my black sealskin clothes.

 

“Kaffiqarpoq” says Scoresby, while the primus stove ensures that the water is boiling hot as it’s poured through the coffee filter.

Once at the hut at the base of the fjord, it’s feeding time: First for the 13 dogs and then for those of us with two legs. The lead dog is fed first in order to ensure that the team of dogs settles down quickly.
 
While the dogs eat heartily and then begin to find a spot in which to rest in the snow, it’s time to take in the intense atmosphere of the hunter’s life in the small primitive hut. The primus stove hisses and the sweet smell from the pots indicates walrus-suassat, a soup made from walrus with pudding rice.

We begin the next day with a good cup of coffee boiled on fresh, newly fallen snow. While the dogs are being harnessed, the weather gods change their mood and the wind beings to freshen up.

The journey up through the valley of Kalkdalen causes the camera’s shutter to go into overdrive. The scenery here is beautiful and features views of pointed snow-covered mountain peaks and magnificent glaciers.

We continue down on the outer side of Liverpool Land in an inferno of snowflakes, both large and small.

It’s fantastic to experience the complete shift in the weather. In spite of poor visibility, the dogs navigate without problem between the huge growlers. The heavy snowfall follows us south to the hut at Cape Hoegh - a luxury hut in the middle of the wilderness.

In spite of the night’s noisy storm, we wake up feeling rested and refreshed to the sight of indescribably beautiful sunny weather and no wind at all. The fresh polar bear tracks explain some of the commotion we heard last night; the rubbish bin has been knocked over.

The last part of the journey towards the town turns into a race with three sleds running at a brisk pace down the long hill.

Back under the shower in the town’s guesthouse, the trip is over, but the memories continue to play in my mind’s eye for a long time afterwards. Furthermore, the quality and experience with which the local tourist office, NANU travel, organises these dogsled trips means that these memories are exclusively associated with happiness and great satisfaction.