I decided to hike with the splitboard on Sunday, along with shooting some B Roll for my ongoing film project. Problem is, my camera gear comes in at around 15 kilos, and along with spare clothes, skins, coffee, ski poles, shovel, probe, it's hard work.
When i got to Kabinban i saw the queue for the snowmobile taking people up to the top. Funny thing is, unless i am on a job where i need to get up and get it done, why would you not want to go under your own steam?
As i hiked up the last section the clouds where rolling in, and at one point visibility was almost zero. I got to the top just as the clouds cleared. There is something about actually being in the clouds. I set up my cameras for some timelapse shots, poured a cup of coffee, and put my headphones in whilst i waited for the cameras to do their thing.
I stood there, on this lump of rock 1420 metres high, taking in the views over Jämtland and into Norway. The sun was shining through the broken fast moving clouds, and it was just magical. For every way you look, just nature, one of Europes last remaining wildernesses. Östersund to the east, and Trondheim to the west, but not much else, apart from small villages, streams, forests, lakes, wildlife.
I then started to think about the place i now call home, Åre, sat in the middle of all this wilderness, a small cosmopolitan village nestled amongst this lump of rock. I feel very lucky to live here. One big playground, and i am convinced my kids will benefit from living here, amongst the activity, the nature.
One thing has happened to me since i moved to Åre, i have become much more aware of what we are doing to this planet. Coming from London and then living in Stockholm for almost ten years, i was very much a city guy. What we do in the city is listen to the news, listen to the reports of climate change, but then they go out of our consciousness, through the tempo of life, they get lost in the static of everyday city life. When you actually live closer to nature, when the weather dictates what you do, when you speak to people that live on snow, when you can see that the rain line has changed over the past ten years, it makes you think a little more. I am sure that the people that live in Greenland, Svalbard, they are fully aware of the changes that are taking place now, but when you live in the city it's not on your doorstep, it's not obvious, yet.
A strange feeling came over me as i was looking out over the mountains. I almost felt i imagine how an astronaut feels when they look back at earth. I felt both joy and sadness. Joy and happiness at how beautiful this planet is, and especially the place i live, and the fact that somehow we actually ended up living here, but sadness about how we change peoples attitudes towards making the planet a better place to live.