"No Man's Land"

Arne O. Holm is an expert on the Northern area; he has been a journalist for Dagbladet, news editor for Dagens Næringslivs, editor for NRK’s Brennpunkt and editor for Svalbardposten. Now he has packed his sailors bag and headed for Finnmark. He will follow the race closely for the first time and write about his daily impressions on our web page during the race. Holm has lived for six years at Svalbard where he, among other things, worked as a guide with sled-dogs and partaken in several expeditions. Today he works at Nordområdesenteret in Bodø. Daily you can read Holm’s thoughts about the race in "No Man's Land". Here are his thoughts about the start!

A trail of lights through the night

The musher Jo Jøldal from Konsberg, Norway, was just a headlamp i the darkness when he left Finnmarkslopets last checkpoint, Skoganvarre, almost 24 hours ago. The clock was 03.24, the night before sunday, at that point. Somewhere on his way to Levajok he`ll meet the twilight and hopefully feel that it was worth crawling out of his sleeping bag to fight snow, wind, cold temperatures and the longing to stay in the heat.

Maybe he´ll meet Robert Sørlie.

In that case it will be because Sørlie is on his way back to Alta while Jøldal is on his way to the turning point in Kirkenes. Jøldal is a part of the musher longer back in the trail, in a competition that is about more than winning prizes. For most it is about winning over them self.

For Robert Sørlie it´s about both. More than six hours before the last mushers left skoganvarre Sørlie was on his way. He just stopped for a vetrinary check before he went out in the lead of Finnmarkslopet 2013

-        Robert are straight through, was the buzz amongst handlers and spectators who was at the neat and well prepared checkpoint in Porsanger municipality.

The audience appreciates mushers who breakes with the expected routines. The competition are not quite as pleased with it. After  having prepared their own strategy for months, they now have to think over their plans once more after a semi-anarcistic stunt from one of the expected favourites. TV producers cheers. A musher breaking away for the others early in the race means a face to aim their cameras at.

Some hours later Lars Monsen is trodding around with a headlamp so dim it´s nearly visible at all from the area where the spectators are standing.

-        He thinks we can´t see that he´s on his way out, the competitors jokes.

At the time Robert Sørlie punches in at the next checkpoint, Levajok, there is still som musher of the FL-1000 burried i their sleeping bags at Skoganvarre. This illustrates the depth of this spectacular, natur based sport. With around 18 nations starting and more than 130 mushers, it makes a world ski championship look like a local competition for ski waxers.

As a trail of lights they go through the night. We try to follow them around in cars, busses or for a lucky few, snowmobiles. The handlers, the ones who always are there to help the mushers, often travel around in caravans between the checkpoints. And allthough it is a great deal colder here, the checkpoints looks like a caravan spot in the south of norway.

The road leading to Skoganvarre is indeed a no man´s land, but not to desolate for the local sheriff who is parked on the shoulder of the road. As I pass I notice he is in the act of taking down his radar, and that I´m happy about now.

More impressive are the number of volunteers at checkpoint Skoganvarre. 126 people are mobilized to take care of the travellers who sees sleep as luxury thay can allow themselves at a later point in life.

-        We are a town of volunteers, Bente Hoem says, and whishes me welcome to the temporary secretary they`ve established in a small cabin at the checkpoint.

-        This is my second volunteer job today. Judith Nygaard starts making waffles and turns the crude cabin to a bakery within minutes.

The radios makes static noise as reports of teams leaving or coming in to the checkpoint is being reported.

A 1000 dogs is on the ice. That they find their place in the coloumns made ready by Marianne Nygaard, a smiling volunteer for Finnmarksløpet, they don´t know ofcourse.

Because only a few understands what massive volunteer work is being done in Finnmark this week.

-        This is typical for Porsanger. We want our municipality to appear in the best way possible, Bente explains, while the economist Bjarne Trevland has to suck in his gut to let me through in the small cabin with all my headlamps and computers which needs recharging for their journey through the rest of Finnmark.

In my enthusiasm over meeting the local heroes I head over to the local café. Heres all the volunteeringis  replaced with what might be an effort to strengthen the café economy. A poster outside the entrance states "buffe", which probably is a interpretation of the more known buffet or  buffé. This day the "buffe" consists of some unrecognisible meat. You serve yourself, so maybe I can eat as much as i want?

I dont want. After having tasted the meat. At one of the tables the chef is waking up guests who barely got to meet the Sandman before they are clared out to make room for new guests who might want some "buffe".

Luckily they don´t know what they missed out on.

-        I´m so hungry that my gut is screaming, says Inger-Marie Haaland, one of the favourites of FL-1000, as she arrives at Levajok early in the morning.

But the dogs get the first serving.

Robert Sørlie´s dogs also got food when they arrived as the first team to Tana just befor 19.00 sunday night. The bowls are filled with something that lookes like the "buffe".

The dogs are happy to eat it. All thats looks the same, doesn´t necesarrily taste the same.