Frozen in Jämtland’s winter wonderland, the fir forests, ice lakes and gentle mountains around Klocka make it a little-known nirvana for dog-sledding. With the chilly temperatures and vigorous activity that come as standard with this activity, it is only fair to treat your body to a traditional Swedish sauna (icy plunge pool optional) and some high-end Swedish design at the end of the day. Unheralded Klocka just happens to have it all.
Bordering Norway in the Sylarna mountain area, the tiny, old farming village of Klocka is set on the shore of enchanting Lake Ånnsjön. Reindeer roam the water’s edges and birds of prey circle overhead. The wildness is tempered only by Klocka Fjällgård, an old farmhouse converted by the renowned Swedish furniture designer Nirvan Richter into a chilled-out boutique hotel with that all-important sauna.
Before the calm, though, comes the husky storm. Be warned: the mere sniff of a sled outing (just your arrival at the kennels will be enough) sends these intelligent and characterful dogs into howling, bouncing, bog-eyed raptures. All the chaos and noise of harnessing them to the sled line, from the lead dogs to the rear ‘wheel’ dogs, converts to raw power once the snow anchor is released. As Klocka musher Kari-Mette remarked: ‘You don’t have to teach them to pull, you have to teach them to stop!’
It is impossible not to be won over by the huskies’ strength, enthusiasm and good nature. Hurtling along narrow forest trails there is a beautiful moment of transition from the initial, unbridled power surge, as the dogs, their deep-seated pack-hunting skills driving them on, all fall into the same loping rhythm and the rails of the sled swish effortlessly through the deep snow.
As you wind up through patchy forest into the Vallrun hills north-east of Klocka the winter sun, which never rises very high above the horizon, casts long shadows of the bounding dogs and the sled. Its gentle warmth is welcome as the temperatures here are regularly well below freezing. For dog-sledding, put on all your warmest clothes, then add more. You may move with all the grace of an injured hippopotamus, but the cold can bite its way through anything less.
The wild mountain lake of Södra Gråsjön is the only truly flat and open part of the journey, and as you slide across it your feeling of freedom and communing with nature reaches a high, with your new-found sled-handling skills encouraging you to attempt sweeping turns and higher speeds. Barking out orders to the huskies to turn left and right, you can’t help but notice the dogs’ slightly confused glances over their shoulders. They are very willing and obedient, but they can also spot a novice musher at 100 metres. Reality returns, and the dogs seemingly make their own way up a steep incline to a beautiful hillside look-out and a food stop at Gråsjölien.
This is no Alaska with oversized scenery, but the whole beauty of dog-sledding is that it gels perfectly with the beautifully sculptured landscape. The mountains, like distant Sylarna and Bunnerfjällen, are high enough, but their slopes seem to melt rather than plunge into the lightly fir-forested valley. The dogs love running here, and even before the last crumbs of a fire-toasted sandwich have been devoured, their tails start to wag and their powerful legs start to stretch. As they haul at their harnesses, eager to charge home in the fading afternoon light, it seems the pack is at last finely tuned into the thoughts of just about any novice musher. For surely, only the desire to relax in a sauna can inspire such breakneck speed on the return journey.