"I am baking you some flatbröt so you can try it with real Swedish butter," says Märta as she is moving around her large homestead kitchen being whimsical with a blot of white flower on her smiling face. It was not 48 hours ago that we walked in Märta's door, soaked from our wool socks to the hats on our heads from another day of plowing through wet waist-deep snow in unusually warm and sticky humid weather. Yet, we definitely feel at home in the warmth of our kind hostess and the mighty Polar Huskies are too as they are soaking up a day of needed rest among the big pines outside her house. Yes, we knew the loads on our sleds were more than heavy. And by the end of last week we had realized that the snow was deep indeed. What we did not know was the snow would keep falling every single day of this week and the temperatures would be above freezing! When we did have clear skies it was downright balmy tropical! 

As you might have heard in the audio update last Sunday, a snowstorm actually moved in as we were trying to send out the last materials for last week's update. We were not much worried though as the trails we traveled on were in such great shape, hard-packed and fast. During this time of the year, usually as a storm moves out, it is followed by clear skies and crisp, cold air. 

However, that's not how it turned out to be. Have you ever had a portion of really sticky oatmeal? When it sticks to the roof of your mouth and it can almost be difficult to separate your jaws to swallow because it 'sucks' your mouth shut! That's how the snow turned out to be! You could even hear it: a grinding sound. It was like the snow was gripping on to the runners of the sled (the 'plastic skis' on the bottom of the sled) making the sled grind across the snow, instead of gliding. Anytime we came to a stop for any reason, we would simply get stuck! In less than a minute, the sled would 'freeze into the wet snow' as the sled runner, that was warm from friction, cooled down. It literally became close to impossible to break the sled loose again without bringing out the shovel to dig the snow underneath the runner - that's when the sled was upright! With all the new snow, a less traveled trail with the sled not easily gliding along behind the Polar Huskies, the sleds tended to run 'off track.' Envision Paul and Mille each pushing and pulling on the 900 lb. sleds, soon realizing how it would not alter the course of their sled in time. Then, scrambling to get to the front end of the sled in time to try to jerk it from diving into the deep snow, which often resulted in a sled tipped over on its side followed by a lot of heavy-lifting work in getting the load back up!

"I admit it," says Mille, "I was hoping that something would change really quick!" Fortunately, it did. About mid-day, Per, a Sámi reindeer herder, came towards us on his snowmobile. The Sámi have more than 300 words in their language to describe the different kinds of snow, and Per knew the conditions were tough. He was on his way to make sure his sons were all ok as they were out working the reindeer herd. Per is from Övre Soppero where we had hoped to make it to that night. But given that it was already past noon and we had made it less than 6 miles (10 km) in 4 hours or more, we had realized there was no way we would be able to cover 12 more miles (20 km) in the day! As we set out to part our ways, Per pulled up behind Mille's sled to give her a hand getting the sled started. Per was stunned! "Too heavy, too heavy, too difficult." He was definitely right, but we didn't have much of an option but to push on. 

About an hour later Per was back, now going in the same direction as us. "I was a bit behind Paul and when I caught up to him with my sled he had a peculiar grin on his face!" says Mille. Per was suggesting that he simply pull one of our sleds with his snowmobile. He had never pulled anything quite that large before, but as long as he was going slow he felt he would be ok. We had never hooked up two teams of Polar Huskies to one sled, or had parted with one of our sled while on an expedition! It didn't take long for us to come to a decision on whether or not to take Per up on the offer though. Polar Huskies are mighty, and ultimately they will handle pretty much anything. However, being on the first week of running in the field and with a long expedition route ahead, we saw no reason to work them harder than necessary. This was a great opportunity to make up for lost time and prepare for whatever the next days would bring us. The Polar Huskies each pull on a tug line that is attached to what is called a gangline (or mainline), which is what is hooked to the sled. Unhooking the gangline from Paul's sled with nine Polar Huskies were then hooked to the front-end of Mille's team so that Mille's sled now had 1...2...3...4...16 Polar Huskies attached to pull! Getting the picture? Paul's sled was attached to Per's machine, and a lake had been agreed upon where Per would 'park the sled' and off he went! It was one wild ride to follow. Paul was on the backend of the sled steering a team that was so long! He was turning corners where the front-end of the team might be around one bend in the trail, the middle of the team around the following bend, and the sled, Paul and Mille towing behind, just making the first bend! We made the lake outside the community easily that night. 

It turns out the deep sticky snow is a problem for the Sámi reindeer herders as well. Per stopped by our tent and we agreed that once we make it up onto the tundra in the Norwegian mountain sometime late April,  we will contact him. He will most likely be in the area with his herd of reindeer and we can meet up for some coffee and bidos (reindeer stew).  Per doesn't know when he will exactly be there because it is normally the reindeer that decide to begin the migration into the mountains and the reindeer herders follow along. But, maybe that is not how it will be this year. 

The next morning as we were packing up the sled, two young reindeer herders came by on their snowmobiles. They were heading back out to their herd. "We are making trails for the reindeer. We don't normally do that, but the snow is so deep that the reindeer are having a hard time moving around and getting to their food. We want to move them up onto the mountain tundra where there is much less snow. We are using the snowmobiles to make trails in the deep snow towards the mountains so that we can start pushing the reindeer to go up the trails," explained Samuel Blind. I guess the snowmobile is good for more than helping Polar Huskies in these conditions. Was it not for the snowmobile, it would be very difficult if not impossible to make trails for the reindeer all the way up into the mountains. A year like this could turn into a horrible year for a Sami reindeer herder and his animals - a year like 1963. As we told you in last week's report, it was that year when Nils Anders Blind's family lost all but six reindeer out of more than 600 to starvation because of bad conditions. Not that a snowmobile would have been any help then.  In 1963 the trouble was not the weather. It was because of a border issue between Norway and Sweden where the authorities did not let the Sámi herd travel along their traditional routes to bring the herds across the border in the late fall. This is much like what Per, Nils and the other reindeer herders are looking to do now into spring, but they are traveling in the opposite direction: moving the herd across the lands from the forests of Sweden to the mountain tundra of Norway. 

We didn't realize until later that Samuel had the same last name as Nils Anders, who we were talking with in Kiruna, and that maybe they are related! But Nils's words comparing the life of a Sámi reindeer herder to that of a cowboy sure came to mind. Samuel, a tall, strong, young man straddling his snowmobile with a Sámi pouch over his shoulders made one think exactly that. 

Samuel extended his hand and said, "Call me if you need help. If I can't come, we will find someone to come out and help you haul some of the weight ahead."  Though we are in many ways so very different, the generous kindness is humbling. These men are already plenty busy themselves and yet they offer their help to us, strangers traveling on their land. Paul grabbed his hand an noted that we just might take up the offer because with these unusual conditions we really need to turn north, sooner rather than later. On that note our ways parted: they headed west and we yipped the Polar Huskies to continue east with the sun glaring from a blue sky and the air already heavy with moisture. By 2 PM, as we were sledding up the river into the community of Lannavaara, it was +9˚ Celcius / 48˚Fahrenheit!!! 

Yes, that is why we were soaking wet when we walked into Märta's door. These kinds of conditions are pretty normal towards the end of an expedition when we get into late April and May, so it is not that we are not used to it. But knowing now, that any day (hopefully) the temperature will drop, it is slightly nerve wrecking that all our clothing is so wet as we simply can't dry it out at night in the tent. We were very excited to make it to the next community on our way: Saivomutka. Well, at least we thought it was a community. We met several groups of snowmobilers that day all telling us that 'no!' there was nothing there. They thought there maybe a few houses, but they did not believe anyone lived there. "The Arctic Trail" which connects Sweden, Finland and Norway, that we are sledding on, does not actually go into the town. We stopped at junction with one direction continuing on and another looking like it might go into the community. We were wondering... Was there anybody there... and if so, would we be welcome!? 

Paul stayed by the dogs, and Mille walked towards what looked like a road with houses through the trees. "Walking out of the woods and onto the street, I probably looked fairly lost and the one car that came by did stop. It was a Finnish speaking lady who, as it turned out, had no idea what I was saying, brought me to Bössa (Bo) and soon we had a place to stake out the dogs and a wonderful place to stay: at Märta's!" says Mille with a grin. 

Saivomutka is at the heart of Sápmi and on the border of Sweden and Finland. Looking out on the field from Märta's kitchen window is a low fence. That's the Finish border! "The Finnish Sámi herders put up the fence to keep the herds of reindeer on each side of the borders separated," explains Märta. We had barely finished carrying in bags, computers  and equipment into the house when Märta had dished up loads of homebaked breads, cookies, buns and coffee. And that was just the beginning! There are no stores in the community and actually there are no police, fire station, or  hospital and the school was closed down some years ago, The two children in town go to school more than 120 km (80 miles) from the community. Groceries are delivered once a week from another community, yet, somehow Märta keeps pulling food out of the pantry and freezers, dishing up one feast after another with the most incredible delicacies. Gravad lax (cured salmon), pickled herring, thin pancakes with real whipped cream, blueberry juice, deer-spread cheese, fish gratin, wonderful salads, elg roast (moose harvested by Märta's sons in the forest last Fall), home-grown potatoes, cloud berries (or jokna as the Sámi call them) picked from the land, and not least, Märta's home-baked goodies all accompanied by stories of the area about life along the border of two countries. 

It is not that people here think much about living along the border. This is, of course, Swedish territory and it is the Swedish flag on the pole. However, the languages spoken shift from Swedish to Finnish like it was simply one language. Yes, Mille gets thoroughly confused. She is following along in a conversation in Swedish, translating for Paul to English and all of a sudden she has absolutely no clue as to what is being said... "Neither of us understand a word of Finnish!" says Paul. Not that Märta has not been trying to educate us. She is fluent in Finnish, Swedish and Norwegian, and she is great at understanding Mille's Danish too! Märta Aidantausta grew up in this region and have lived here with her husband since 1963 at the family homestead. Built from local timber, it is the oldest building in the community! 

Today, less than 60 people live in the community, but it was once a buzzing place with most people working in the logging industry. Today, Märta's son Bo, thinks it is only a matter of less than 10 years "before no smoke will be coming out the stacks" unless prospectors find minerals nearby to set up a mining operation. Though it is a beautiful place, it can seem a hard place to live when one has 24-hour darkness from November through January. Now, we should not make it sound like this is a no-one-knows-sort-of-place! Yes, it is off the map and not even listed on the bus map, even though the bus travels through five times a week. However, on Saturday the population was quadrupled as 200 skiers of all ages crossed the finish line at the camping wagon on mainstreet, having skied one of three distances in the Tobacco Loppet! And next weekend it is the local ice-fishing contest! 

"My high school class was bigger than this town by far!" laughs Paul as he continues, "yet there is so much here, different ways of life, different languages, different worlds coming together in a little wonderful place brimming with kindness and generosity. And you know, I think it takes tolerance to live in a place like this straddling borders and cultures." 

Make sure to join this week's chat with Neil Willenson on Tuesday, March 18 at 1 PM to talk about tolerance! Have you ever experienced bullying or maybe even been a bully yourself? We can't wait to check out your post to the Culture Zone and see the "No Bullies" designs entered in the competition to win t-shirts!

The smallest puppy in her litter, this week's first Polar Husky Superstar Nazca, was a bit of a runt growing up.  She was often picked on by her littermates. With her shy nature, she could come across as a bit of a loner, but soon her wide gate became powerful and with her long and slender build, she became the fastest Polar Husky in the kennel. Nazca is a brilliantly intelligent Polar Husky and incredibly sweet too. Nazca did not have the confidence to be a lead dog at first,  instead putting her skills to work as a tolerant point dog who was always happy to do the job with less glory. She had her first litter of puppies when she was quite young, and today, she is actually somehow related to every single Polar Husky on this expedition! She has grown much more confident with age, and turning 9 this fall, she is a good solid lead dog. Especially if she is on the second team her greatest frustration is when the first team is moving too slow. 

This week's second Polar Husky Superstar, Disko, is Nazca's son and he definitely inherited both her sweetness, affection and intelligence. A confident and very happy guy, Disko was a go-getter from the get-go, and one who loved attention even as a tiny puppy, basically from when he started opening his eyes. Although Disko was built like a work-horse, he did not seem particularly confident, one of the trades definitely necessary in a lead dog. In other words, he did not seem to have much desire to be in charge or dominate other dogs. He was just happy to get-a-long and pull hard. It was actually Aaron, who during the 6-month long Arctic Transect 2004 expedition, suggested we try putting Disko in lead. Aaron's first attempt with Disko had the team doing a 90 degree turn instead of heading down the trail.  However, soon, with some patience, Disko started to shine. Today he is a strong, fast moving, hard pulling machine and the number one leader in the kennel. And a kind one!