Field report from the Arctic Ultra race: on the move in Lapland

Call it stubbornness, but when I start something, I want to finish it. In 2022, I had to abandon my run in the Montane Lapland Arctic Ultra (MLAU). Poor race planning and pain in my hip meant I was going so slowly that I was never going to make the time cut-off. So, now it’s time for my next attempt to crack the 185-kilometre course.

The MLAU is a non-stop race covering 185 or 500 kilometres through the wintry wilderness of Swedish Lapland. Racers have four days to complete the short route and ten for the long course. There are checkpoints about every 50 kilometres where you get a hot meal and hot water for your thermos – everything else you must carry yourself in your pulk, a special sled for your kit. Sleeping is mostly done outside.

One look at the required equipment tells you that the MLAU is no walk in the park: winter sleeping bag recommended for temperatures of minus 40 degrees, multi-fuel stove, down jacket suitable for expeditions, snowshoes, first aid kit, saw, emergency GPS – it’s a long list. And it’s even longer for me because again I’ve got my two dogs, Erni and Loki, in tow. So I have dog food, leads, harnesses and cold weather equipment for my four-legged friends. But since my target is simply to finish within the time limit, I don’t mind the few extra kilos.

It’s 5 March 2023 and the time has come: at nine o’clock in the morning, I’m on the start line in Överkalix with Erni and Loki. My thermoses are filled with hot water and a mixture of coffee and cocoa. The weather forecast for the next few days predicts a very pleasant minus 17 degrees. What could possibly go wrong? After the group photo is done, organiser Robert counts down – and the race begins.

Problems with the pulk

Before I’ve even gone 500 metres, I realise something is wrong. The sled is only attached to the right-hand carabiner of the towing harness; half the left-hand pole is missing. What a hassle. It takes me half an hour to improvise by replacing the broken wire rope with a piece of cord. When I finally set off again, the other racers are out of sight. What’s more, the sled is now hanging at a slight angle behind me and I’m worried that the uneven pressure distribution will cause me pain again during the race.

Somewhere around the 30 kilometre mark, I pass fresh moose tracks. Much as I like game and enjoy looking at it, I’m glad I didn’t come across the moose directly. I know they can react quite aggressively if they’re disturbed. And then it happens: I hear another ‘pling’ behind me – now the right-hand wire cable has snapped, too. I’m furious, and dismantle the pulk pole and try to think of a solution. Luckily I have some rope and spare leads for the dogs with me. I manage to get the sled moving again, but keeping it in line without the pole is hard and I can’t keep my distance downhill. Fortunately, it’s only uphill for now. I battle my way up the ascent to Laxforsberget until I reach the first checkpoint at about nine in the evening. After the obligatory health check, I tuck into the hearty potato and goulash stew served here. Then, warmed up and re-energised, I’m back on the move just before midnight.

I go no further than three steps before the carabiner on the tow lead breaks. Are things destined not to work out for me and the Arctic Ultra? After another improvised repair job, I set off on the steep descent. The pulk sled crashes into my heels three times, throwing me into the snow. I can’t allow it to slide down the mountain in front of me as the dogs are running there. Frustrated, I plough on down the mountain. The spectacular northern lights in the sky cheer me up. Having my two faithful companions with me also gives me the strength to keep going.

The plan was to keep going until we reach Bastukojan, a comfortable hut with an oven at the 65 kilometre mark. But when we pass a shelter after about 50 kilometres, I decide to call it a day. I set up camp next to the small shelter. Erni, Loki and I treat ourselves to a few hours’ rest on the reindeer hide with the sleeping bag serving as our blanket.

New day, new luck

The sun is shining, the sky is blue and the Bastukojan isn’t too far away. Together with James, another MLAU competitor, I walk across a frozen lake and savour the magnificent Lapland landscape. When we arrive at the hut, the stove is already blazing away. Soon afterwards, two helpers on a snowmobile bring me a complete replacement pulk sled, including poles. How happy am I! I quickly repack my things, only leaving the second camping mat behind – in these ‘mild’ temperatures, I’m sure I won’t need it...

What I especially like about the MLAU is the camaraderie between the participants. There’s no real competitiveness; it’s more about doing the route together and looking out for each other.

After a power nap, I’m back on the trail at 4 pm. Six hours later, I reach the next checkpoint, the restaurant in Jockfall. Participants can sleep in the warm here, but the absolute highlight is the superb hamburger as my late dinner.

Next morning, it’s Erni and Loki who drive me on. Full of enthusiasm and eager to get going, they pull gently on my harness to help me through my motivational rut. Last year I had to give up in Jockfall, and this still seems to weigh on my mind. But a few hours later, I’m running through an Arctic tundra landscape like I’ve never seen before. These are memories I’ll definitely never forget. The next checkpoint is the Polar Circle Cabin. A helper tells me it was minus 27 degrees last night. Should I have taken that second mat with me after all?

To be on the safe side, I opt to spend the next night in a hut with a stove at the 134-km point. Tired and exhausted, I march through the darkness by the light of my headlamp. Dextrose and bars just about keep me going. By the time I arrive at the shelter around 10 pm, five pulk sleds are already there. The door is broken, the stove is off and Karl, Harriet, James, Alla and Ruth are sleeping inside. I squeeze in as quietly as possible with Loki and Erni. And just as we finally settle down, the first of the group are up and off again. We’re not going to get much rest tonight...

Frosty finale

In the morning, I want to wash down my breakfast bars with some water from the thermos, but can’t get it open with my gloves on. So I try without them. A sharp pain instantly shoots through my fingers. It had got so cold overnight that there was only a lump of ice in my bottle and you freeze as soon as your skin touches anything metallic. The thermometer outside next to the hut door read minus 28 degrees – in the sun. Later I was told the temperature had dropped to minus 35 degrees during the night.

The final 24 hours are really tough. My legs are heavy due to tiredness and total exhaustion. My GPS and mobile phone stop working as the cold has drained their batteries. I trudge on doggedly and contemplate setting up another bivouac. A moment later, I wake up and see the swaying backsides of my dogs in front of me. I’d actually fallen asleep for a moment while I was walking! That was enough, decision made. At the last shelter before the finish, I let Erni and Loki sleep for three hours, dry my clothes by the fire and melt snow. With a litre of fresh coffee, I set off again at about 9 pm. At some point – it’s now well into the night – I see the lights of Överkalix. So close, yet so far! The last few kilometres drag on forever. But finally we cross the finish line. I receive my finisher’s medal, put Erni and Loki on my beloved reindeer skin in front of the fireplace and am just filled with happiness. Totally exhausted, dog-tired and four-and-a-half kilos lighter – but happy!