On Ice in Stockholm

It's days like last Saturday that make me love winter in Stockholm. Cold - well below freezing - with clear skys and a bright sun, making the snow sparkle with the gleam of a billion tiny snowflakes.

These photos are from the ice of Lake Mälaren just south of the island, Kungsholmen, where we live. The ice froze in about a week thanks to the cold front - from Russia apparently - that has swept over Europe and has stuck around since. Temperatures have been between -7°C and -19°C for the last couple weeks, usually closer to -19°C. I don't mind, though - it feels like it's supposed to feel in a Scandinavian winter, and the snow is gorgeous.

Ice: 1, Me: 0

March in Stockholm is a month of expectation. After 4 months of snow, there finally seems to be an end in sight. The sky gets noticably lighter every day; the temperatures hover around and then rise above freezing, if only by a couple degrees. With this inbetween weather, pedestrians are subject to the hazards of ice that melts during the day and then re-freezes at night, creating a slip 'n slide on every horizontal surface. And so it was on Saturday that I experienced first-hand what makes people tread so carefully.

I try to run every Saturday morning, and have done so through most of the winter, whether there were 3 feet of snow on the ground or sheets of ice covering the sidewalks. I've boasted about my record of falls so far - 0 - and was pretty confident I would make it through my first winter in Sweden without injury, well-balanced and fearless of the cold.

The above is a photo of the side of my thigh 3 days after my first - and hopefully only - fall of the season. Near the end of my run, as I made a slight turn, my foot fell out from under me and BAM the weight of my body slammed against the rock-hard ice. Not a pleasant feeling, to say the least. And the walk home felt more like 2 hours than 10 minutes. 

For awhile, I couldn't sit without pain, and I still can't sleep on the right side of my body, but at least it's not swollen anymore. Now I too have joined the ranks of the slow walkers, at least until spring. But I still don't plan to wait that long for my next run. 

To the Ice, Round II

Last Saturday I ice skated outside of an ice rink for the first time. My days doing loops around  Dahlgren Hall in the Naval Academy, taking a break every 20 minutes for pizza and ice cream were a distant memory. This was real ice skating. In a place where kids learn to skate at the same time they learn to walk (and ski, for that matter) and people drive their cars across the ice in the north to get to the archipelago islands. 

We skated a total of 25 kilometers across 3 lakes: Brunnsviken to Edsviken to Norrviken. We were 5, led by the skating-adept Pierre, who was so kind to organize the expedition. I was the slowest, having only been ice skating a handful of times in my life, but not by much. I wore long blades strapped to my ankle with special boots that squeezed my calves so hard I had (and still have) bruises and could barely walk by the end. 

My skating technique needs some work, to say the least. For some reason, I seem to need to stretch my arms out parallel to the ground and look at the ice ahead of me to keep my balance. I was, however, still able to appreciate the beauty around me, surrounded by trees and towns on the hillsides. 

Hiking between the first and second lake, we stopped for a fika (coffee/pastry break) in a little cafe inside a nursery before continuing to Edsviken. This 14-km lake had a little stand in the middle where a boy scout troop was fundraising, selling sausages they were grilling on the ice! In the US, we have bake sales outside grocery stores; in Sweden, they set up stands in the middle of frozen lakes. 

The day was gorgeous; the ice was - if slightly slushy on top - thick enough; and I didn't fall through, which is always a good thing. But I still had my isdubbars just in case. 

Walking on (Frozen) Water

Sunday was one of the first really sunny days that has actually fallen on a weekend in Stockholm for awhile, and so, as the Swedes do, I went out - for a run along the water. With some better shoes, I could have gone beyond the shore; the water was completely frozen solid and looked like the central square of a city with people walking all everywhere! Dogs were running around their owners, people had their cross country skiis on, and a few were skating across the ice. A thin layer of snow lay on top, so you could see the tracks where people had been, which were scattered all over. It was such a beautiful scene, but by the time I could return just a couple hours later with my camera....

the sun had disappeared behind thick clouds, and with it the crowds had dispersed (I swear they were there before!). So it goes in Sweden. Lesson learned: enjoy the winter sunshine while you can because it is surely short-lived.

Another lesson of the ice: beware of cracks like this that stretch across the river. Although I've been assured there is no need to worry, I cannot help but feel slightly uneasy, perhaps from seeing too many movies a la 2012. Next time maybe I'll do as the Swedes do and bring isdubbars along to save me. The question is, could I use them if I was submerged in nearly freezing water?