Teachers in Norway watching Olympic skiing during their breaks.

Norway has been abuzz with the skiing events and accomplishments of its winter Olympic athletes. People were glued to the TV screens in hotel lobbies and teachers were watching skiing events during their lunch breaks. The winter Olympics may be over, but skiing fever has not dissipated in Norway, it’s omnipresent.

When I first arrived in Norway, I was encouraged to get out and explore. In the summer, go hiking. In the winter, go skiing. Back in Minnesota, I walked, hiked and went cross-country skiing as often as time and weather permitted. However, the trails back home were flat, flat, FLAT.

I wanted to experience an authentic Norwegian ski adventure, so I bought a pair of skis, boots, and poles for 600 kroner (about $60) at a school loppemarked (community sale) this past fall and set them next to my hiking shoes in my apartment entryway in Oslo. A colleague offered to take me out skiing, so that was exciting, but later he asked if I had been training for the ski season. Wait, what? Training?!

Um, no. I had not been training. I nervously boarded the train with skis in hand on a beautiful Sunday morning in January. As the train moved east, more and more skiiers climbed aboard with their skiis, poles, and backpacks. We all disembarked at the Movatn Stasjon and I followed the group down to the frozen lake where my colleague met me and helped apply wax my not-so-fancy skis.

We headed out across the frozen, snow-covered lake. Perfect. I was used to this kind of skiing, with flat trails. But then we approached hills, big ones… That was something I’d not seen on the trails back in Minnesota. I hesitantly told Sven that I was nervous to tackle big hills like that, so he encouraged me to take off the skis and walk down the hill.

“No one will laugh at you,” he said.

So, I did. And no one passing me laughed for stared. After skiing down a few smaller hills, I started to build up my confidence. When we came to a much larger hill, Sven skied down the hill first and then asked the skiiers going up the hill to wait until I made it down the hill. I made it down the hill, still upright, and the observers all smiled and nodded at me.

All along the route, people were BEAMING. Not just courtesy smiles, but bright expressions of delight. Every. Person. And all ages, too, from young children with short little skis to older people, well-seasoned skiers. I will admit that I was grinning, as well. The landscape was simply incredible. The sun was shining, and the snow was sparkling. Trees were covered with thick layers of snow and the terrain looked like something from a Hallmark movie. Who wouldn’t smile while out in this stunning scenery!

We skied for two hours to get to a cabin. Apparently there’s always a cabin that one skis toward. Inside the cozy little cabin, people were quietly chatting, drinking coffee and purple ‘soda’, and eating waffles. Some people brought their own coffee and sandwiches packed in their backpacks. There was a fire in the small fireplace, and it was all so lovely. We ate a waffle and drank some of the purple beverage before heading back to meet the train that passed by in two hours.

Waffles and warm, purple juice at the skiing cabin.

Sven periodically stopped and waited for me to s-l-o-w-l-y glide down the hills. He noted that he was surprised that I was still skiing; other skiers would have stopped a long time ago. We had to really push to make it back to the train station (and not fall and get injured) and I boarded the train with a sweat-soaked coat, hat, and gloves. I could hardly hold up my phone to check photos from the day because I was that exhausted.

A few weeks later, we headed back out on a different ski trail and toward a different cabin. At this stop, we had Kvikk Lunsj and coffee. A typical skiing snack is a Kvikk Lunsj and mandarin orange. I was becoming more confident on skis and was successfully skiing down stepper hills. However, they were still flat by Norwegian standards.

On our way back to the train station, we passed a youth ski event. Music was blaring and there were kiddos on skis everywhere. Some of the skiers didn’t look old enough to walk but they were out there maneuvering through the crowds of people. Parents were quietly encouraging them, and everyone appeared to be in a cheerful mood.

A few days later, my husband flew to Norway so that we could attend the Fulbright ski retreat, north of Lillehammer. This time, I was the ski coach. My husband hadn’t skied before so I had to teach him the basics. Obviously, there were no flat trails, so he had a (literal) crash course in cross country skiing. It was fun to see him learning the sport and it was also so interesting to see Norwegians cheering him on.

If he was wobbling down a hill, a Norwegian skier would pass him and say things such as, “bend your knees!” or “get down, get waaay down.”

The unspoken rules about social distancing and not initiating small talk with strangers applied to public transportation, but not the ski trails!

Another time, when my husband was trying to get up from a fall, a man walking nearby ran up behind him to help lift him up. No criticism or strange looks, just smiles and encouragement. Who wouldn’t enjoy this activity, with everyone smiling and supporting you!?

No doubt you may have read about the Norwegian domination of winter Olympic sports. However, the Norwegian culture emphasizes outdoor activities, especially skiing, as valuable for health and well-being, not for competition and awards. Skiing is a strong component of the Norwegian culture, past, present, and future, and I am extremely grateful for the authentic skiing experiences in Oslo and Lillehammer. I plan to bring my loppemarked skis back to Minnesota, but skiing won’t be the same back home. I will, however, always think back fondly on the incredible scenery, warm smiles, and kind encouragement I experienced skiing here in Norway.

Gå på ski (Go skiing)

Hjerter (Hearts)