Skiing next to Sweden’s highest Peak

In the very north of Sweden, skiers find the finest backcountry skiing the country can offer. In the mountains next to Kebnekaise there are great 1,000 vertical meter ski runs in a pure backcountry. The area is very remote, and you could call it "wilderness," but don't be fooled. The native people, the Sámi, have lived in the area for thousands of years. When I came back for the second time, I brought an international crew with me. We wanted to ski a mountain called Toulpagorni. The summit has a crater that is visible for miles. Those who travel to these mountains must be prepared for fast weather changes, and after our ski tour to Toulpagorni, we can tell some stories about it.

But thanks to dramatic weather changes, we were in for a very special treat. As we reach the saddle between Toulpagorni and Vierranvárri the weather changes within minutes. What started as a perfect day to tour to the top of Toulpagorni, the scenic mountain with the snow-filled crater, has turned into nothing but an intense struggle. Even removing the skins from the skis is a challenge in the storm. To continue is not an option. We look at each other and agree to turn around. This is my second ski trip to the area, and I have accepted that sudden weather changes are something to be expected. To read the weather forecasts thoroughly is necessary, but you can never entirely trust them.

The mountains next to Sweden's highest peak, Kebnekaise, affect the weather and make it difficult to predict in advance. But the reward is great for any skier who travels all the way to these mountains. In this area, you find the highest vertical drop you can ski in Sweden, and there is not a single ski lift visible for miles. The area is pure backcountry skiing with no marked trails or any ski patrol. At first glimpse, one could easily take it for a wilderness area, but the region has been populated with Sámi people for thousands of years. The nomad people who have lived off nature and herding reindeer have used the area as pastureland. Every peak, every valley, every single body of water and every glacier has a name in their native tongue.

The Sámi's knowledge of the area helped the first mountaineers when they came to the area over 100 years ago. They also helped the Swedish Tourist Association when they began building Kebnekaise Mountain Lodge in 1907 by supporting the construction workers with shelter and transportation of building material. Back at the saddle between Toulpagorni and Vierranvárri it is time to steer the skis downwards towards the valley and Mirte, who has been waiting below to shoot pictures. But on the way down my Swiss friend Andy turns right instead of left. Instead of skiing down, he starts traversing. I follow him to tell him that he is going in the wrong direction when I understand his intention. Andy doesn't want to ski down and return to the lodge.

He wants to conquer the mountains rather than being beaten by them. He is heading towards Rullevarerännan, a 500-vertical meter recess in the mountain, carved by nature to be one of the most beautiful and skiable couloirs. Below the exit, we stand still and look at each other, just smiling and nodding. It's still foggy above us, windy and cold, and we can not see the end of the couloir. What we see is the wide exit and two walls of rock. Over the radio, we tell Greg and Aurelien that we want to climb the couloir. They confirm and continue down according to the original plan. Rullevarerännan can be reached in two different ways.

You can hike to the saddle between Toulpagorni and Vierranvárri, turn towards the top of Vierranvárri and do a short rappel into the couloir from the peak. The other option, the one we are about to undertake, is to climb from beneath. The couloir is steep, somewhere between 45 and 50 degrees, and even though the snow is soft, we use our crampons and ice axes. Andy takes the lead. He is a tough athlete and has a powerful will. He used to be on the Swiss national ski team and has competed in the World Cup downhill in Wengen. For a couple of years now, he prefers freeriding and backcountry skiing. Suddenly, we notice a big cornice at the top of the couloir. It's enormous, and we do not want to move closer. Time to turn around.

It's steep, but the couloir is wide and we can do big turns. We ski fast end enjoy the run to the fullest. Now we can return to the lodge and feel satisfied with our achievements. The next morning, we can feel the previous day in our bones. It's a struggle just to get out of the bed. But the weather has again changed dramatically and the sun is shining. From a text message, I learn that my friend Magnus, who is working at the lodge this season, is about to climb Toulpagorni, the peak we failed to reach earlier. His invitation to join him is the last piece of motivation needed to prepare to gear up. Magnus and his friend Emil have chosen to take a different route. They are both excellent climbers, and they want to tackle the north ridge of the crater.

Emil brought a bunch of quickdraws, Andy a 30-meter rope. At the beginning of the ascent, we secure ourselves with the rope. Magnus takes the lead. With heavy backpacks and the sun burning down, we are anything but fast. After finally reaching the top of Toulpagorni, I feel like a winner. After the failed attempt the day before, it's a big relief to reach the entrance to the small couloir that leads into the crater. We prepare to rappel and strap the skis to our backpacks. Leaving the crater and its beautiful silhouette a bit later, I wear a big smile on my face. I finally got to ski Sweden's most classic, high-alpine ski run.