Krutfjellhytta to Steilvasselva. 26km 8 1/2hrs. Through the thin, still mists of morning I emerge from the silver birch woods lining Krutvatnet onto the upper fjell. I push my skis ahead rhythmically, like two narrow-boats cutting through clear water… a perfect clean ski-track arcs away behind me. I confess to taking a certain pride in my ski-track… it’s a form of artwork… The mist is freezing and seems to soak everything, but it’s thinning and soon, I can’t even remember the exact moment, it’s gone. A day of solitude in nature. The mountains seem determined to share their best side with me at the moment. So many incredible views, colours, and emotions, extending to a horizon that seemed without end today. Other than this intense cold I think both the mountains and I have forgotten bad weather exists… Shhhhh…. let’s not wake them from their slumber. Let me ski silently through… in awe… in happy, respectful awe