Hello again, it’s been a while! This year has been so busy with uni work (as well as the project mapping) that I’ve not had time to post anything. As I write, I’m in the process of finishing off this mapping, which looks as though it should produce some interesting results! Just a few weeks ago, we returned from our week’s expedition in the Lyngen Alps. The trip was a fantastic experience which I will try to do justice to in a quick summary, so here goes.
On the Thursday 16th July we flew from Manchester to Oslo, and after a few hours of sleep hopped on another flight to Tromso. We soon found ourselves in a Norwegian supermarket stocking up on all the essentials needed by intrepid explorers far from home- peanut butter, chorizo and haribo (or Morale-ibo as they came to be known later in the trip). With all the major food groups covered, we loaded up the hire car and headed towards our first campsite, Koppangsbreen. On our arrival in the tiny fishing village, two things became immediately obvious. Firstly, that we had all overpacked. Secondly, that what the satellite imagery had made to look like a pleasantly flat valley was, in fact, anything but. Stricken by frequent floods, Koppangsbreen was a treacherous stretch of loose boulders and gravel, intersected by large rock lips over which waterfalls tumbled. It was uncomfortably hot and the flies were out in force, but this was partly compensated for by the beauty of the place. Unfortunately, one of our party then had a fall due to the difficult terrain and though not badly hurt, had to be driven to Lyngenseidet to be checked out. The remaining two of us prepared to make the best of it and pitched our tents, with the aim of getting started on our research in the morning. Morning in Lyngen is a bit of a moot concept, since in summer the sun never actually sets, but nonetheless we got up and collected our data. My injured friend returned and between the three of us managed to do all the fieldwork required for our dissertations.
By Monday, we were getting restless, and it was time to move on. Looking (and probably smelling!) a bit worse for wear, it was decided that a shower and shave were badly needed, and so we broke camp and drove to Lyngenseidet to check into a hotel. A plate of reindeer stew each and we felt like new men. I’m unsure whether it was actually as delicious as I remember it, or whether I was just hungry enough to eat anything, probably including raw reindeer. Tuesday morning rolled round, and we decided that a day off from fieldwork would do our morale no harm. Accordingly, we did what all young, sociable people in the prime of their lives would do, and visited a graveyard. In our defence, Chris and Ollie did need to measure some lichens as part of their research, and gravestones (being dated) are the best way to do this.
That night we headed for our second valley, Steindalsbreen. The trek was ridiculously steep for the first half an hour, but after that levelled out into a stunning alpine meadow. After our night of luxury in the hotel, none of us found the idea of going back to wild camping all that appealing, and so we stayed in a log cabin just at the top of the steep stretch, which was great. The only downside was the flock of sheep (replete with annoying bells) which huddled beneath the hut all night. The next day (Wednesday) we wandered up to the glacier snout and sat down to have lunch. Here we realised that we had made a terrible mistake. The wraps we had bought (and unwisely filled with peanut butter and jam) were in fact potato-based. This made for a highly unusual combination that was appreciated by nobody, but did nothing to spoil the moment. The glacier was stunning, complete with it’s own little lake and a large braided stream winding it’s way down the valley. Signposts marked the retreating terminus position every five-ten years. Distinct moraines marked the Little Ice Age extent, and from these we took more lichen measurements, while Prof. Stokes took some GPS points in order to check the accuracy of the mapping. That night, after a dinner of the ever-versatile chorizo, we gathered around the hut’s outdoor firepit and cracked open a beer, to be joined by a mysterious Finn who had decided to camp in our garden. He accepted the beer we offered him, but otherwise stayed out of our conversation. After a moment, he pulled out a knife, and without any explanation, stalked off into the woods- making for one of my most enduring memories of the trip. Truth be told, we feared for the lives of our sheep. Luckily, it turned out he was just wittling a spit for his dinner.
On Thursday morning, we cleaned out the hut and headed back to Tromso, ready to catch our flight the following day. That night we went out for one of the best meals I can remember, before visiting a famous local brewery/bar. Unsurprisingly, we only stayed for one drink after learning that a pint was roughly the equivalent of £10- the same it had cost us to stay in the Steindalsbreen hut. Tired but happy, we settled down for the night to recuperate before the long journey home in the morning. The trip had been incredible, and although I haven’t been able to put everything in here, hopefully you’ll get some idea of what this beautiful and unspoilt place was like. If you ever get the chance to go, do it! Photos to follow.