Initial impressions
Stepping off the plane in Kangerlussuaq, a small town in western Greenland with a population of a few hundred people, feels like we’ve landed at the edge of one of humanity’s last settlements. The minus 33°C temperature hits me in the face instantly. Dry air fills my nostrils and lungs; it’s as if I’m suddenly inhaling ice particles that freeze me from the inside out.
Waiting for us at the tiny airport terminal is a giant of a man, Bo Lings. Standing in front of us with a warm and welcoming smile, he is quite literally the largest man I’ve ever shaken hands with! Immediately, he inspires a deep sense of confidence and calm in our team. We understand we’re in very good hands.
After a short drive from the airport, we check into our shelter accommodation, which looks more like an army barracks than a hotel. We change excitedly into our biking clothes. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for. We pull on layer upon layer: thermals, fleeces, soft shell jackets, windproof jackets, balaclavas, inner gloves, outer gloves, woollen socks, insulated boots, helmets and goggles. The list is interminable, yet each piece has its precise function, necessary to safeguard us from the Arctic conditions.
We collect our fatbikes – off-road bikes with oversized tyres that are designed for low ground pressure to allow riding on soft, unstable terrain. We adjust our saddles and install our “pogies” – jumbo mittens that fit over the handlebars for added warmth. By the time we arrive by bus at the foot of the Russell Glacier, the starting point of our 200km journey, it’s already 4pm and a sobering minus 35 degrees.
The cold is quite daunting this late in the day, and as the wind picks up, minus 35 feels more like minus 40 or worse. When not pedalling, we really feel it in our bones and extremities. Luckily, we soon hit harder snow on the dirt road; it’s much easier to pedal on. We finally pick up speed and settle into a good pace – and with that comes more body heat.
That first day, we cycle up and down over the rolling hills for what seems like an eternity. Soon, the sun sets and the temperature plummets. The team is quite spread out – everyone is finding their own pace, getting used to the snow, the bikes and taking it all in. Thankfully, despite the growing darkness, there is a beautiful full moon welcoming us to Greenland, and illuminating our path. Four long hours later, just before 8pm, we reach our shelter. As we take off our goggles, ice forms on our eyelashes and around our balaclavas as our breath freezes in cold and wind.
We’re spent. We thought this would be a warm-up day; instead, with jetlag and no lunch, it was intense and draining. Many of us have been up since 4am Copenhagen time, which is four hours ahead of Greenland; but really, most of us are still on Asia time, which is eleven hours ahead.
Tomorrow, we have 60km on the itinerary – and no road this time, just a path in the snow. That evening, after a hearty meal, we crash into our beds exhausted, wondering with apprehension what tomorrow will bring.
The next morning at dawn, we wake to the howling of dogs outside our cabin. They arrived the night before at the helm of a sled piloted by a local Inuit couple. Inuit are the indigenous people of Greenland; they make up 90 percent of the population, having originally migrated from Alaska through Northern Canada.
After breakfast, we get on our bikes and start across a vast frozen lake. Our expedition guide Paul, an ex-British military officer who fought in Iraq and Afghanistan, reminds us: “Be bold, start cold! Not too many layers, ladies!” Stepping out from the warmth of the hut into the glacial morning air, it’s not easy advice to follow.
We cycle in silence for a couple of hours across the lake. The clouds are low and visibility poor. We focus on the person’s tracks ahead of us, and in those instances of deep concentration, it’s easy to think of absolutely nothing, just simply be present in the moment. Then, as we reach the other side of the lake, we begin to climb towards a mountain pass, sometimes getting off to push in the steepest parts.