BITTEN BY THE ICE

I ask if people ever cycle on the ice. The man with the greying three-day beard, who introduced himself to me as Henrik Swenson, laughs again: “A friend of mine does it from time to time, but I’ve never seen anyone on a bike on the ice myself - but it is possible”.

Daniel and I look at each other. We’ve already put spikes on our SILEX gravel bikes at home, as it is compulsory even on the roads here in Sweden during the winter months. There is no time like the present, so I ask Henrik Swenson what he thinks of my idea to move our tour onto the lake. His laughter gives way to an appraising look at us and our bikes. “The ice out there is no joke. Even though it’s up to 60 centimetres thick in many places now in February, you have to know your way around. I’ve been skating here since I was a child, around 3000 kilometres every winter, but I still have a great respect for the ice and nature. It is not as simple as stepping out of your heated Hymer, jumping on your bike and hitting the ice.” My disappointed face must have spoken volumes.

“It would be a shame if you’d come all this way for nothing,” laughs Henrik Swenson, and after a 20-minute safety briefing, our guide agrees to let us join his skating group onboard our spike equipped SILEX gravel bikes.

“It’s also a good idea to have some spare clothes in your backpack, just in case,” says Henrik with a wink. Then we set off, and I can say from the bottom of my heart that, despite the 60 centimetres of ice and 260 spikes, this is scary stuff. It just feels wrong to put a bike on this seemingly endless surface. Henrik sets the pace. They glide over the perfect ice at over 30 kilometres an hour in bright sunshine. He and his three friends have set out on a 100-kilometre ice skating tour today, and only the gentle whirring of our spikes breaks the silence. At 1,000 square kilometres, Lake Mälaren is the third largest lake in Sweden and about twice the size of Lake Constance. When the temperatures drop well below freezing in late autumn, this vast lake landscape west of Stockholm becomes a paradise for ice-skaters - or rather, ice hikers - virtually overnight. The Stockholm area is ideal for this, as it is usually too warm in the south, and there is too much snow on the lakes further north.

And while ice surfaces in this country must be at least 20 centimetres thick to be allowed on in winter - if at all - the skating season in Sweden starts at a thickness of just 4.5 centimetres. The first ice in winter - the so-called ‘black ice’ - is extremely firm and every skater’s dream thanks to its extreme clarity. Special ice maps show skaters when and where the lakes will freeze over first. In the spring, the ice is constantly moving. The warmth of the day causes cracks to open up, sometimes stretching from one shore to the other. When it gets warmer, they grow into impassable cracks. However, these can disappear the next day and during night frosts when the ice expands and pushes the cracks together.
 

The ice under our tyres is constantly changing colour. Sometimes, it is so clear that you can see all the way to the bottom, and it feels like you are floating. Then again, it is milky cloudy with bizarre sheets of floating broken ice. The feeling is always the same - indescribable. We ride our bikes to places that are normally only accessible by boat, and islands that would otherwise be kilometres away from the shore pass us by. It’s hard to describe the complete silence and vastness on all sides.

“On a perfect day, you can skate on the Lake Mälaren all the way to the mouth of the Baltic Sea,” Henrik tells us, beaming with joy. From time to time, he stops to check the thickness and condition of the ice with a pointed pole about two metres long. “This is particularly important near the shore and in the area of the rogues”. Rogues are permanent streams of water that create large open areas in the ice and where the water is very unstable.

In the early afternoon, we take a short break on one of the many islands in Lake Mälaren. Here we meet Björn Ericson and his wife. Both are in their 70s and, like Henrik’s group, they share a lifelong passion for the ice. “We’re on our way to the biggest cake buffet in Sweden,” says Björn mischievously. Meanwhile, Daniel and I feel like our stomachs have gone from a state of bliss to a state of hunger. A brief description of the more than 50 types of cake was enough to convince us so we thanked Henrik and his skating buddies for taking us across the ice and head up the hill to Taxinge Castle with Björn and his wife towards ‘Schlemmerland’ and an ocean of cake. 

The 18th-century castle is now home to the Slottscafe, which is known far beyond Sweden’s borders for its ‘fika’. ‘Fika’ is a coffee break with delicious biscuits, Danish pastries or cakes. We are not disappointed. The sight of the buffet and the first bite of the cinnamon bun leaves us just as speechless as the cosy atmosphere. After two more pieces of cake, we find it twice as hard to leave the warm parlour.

By the time we reach the pontoon in Marifred, where we started our journey eight hours earlier, the sun is just barely peeking it over the towers of Gripsholm Castle.

Time for one last dream. From the ice - into the ice. Daniel looks at my outfit in disbelief - swimming trunks - really?

Photos: Daniel Geiger Photography