2009
I had never imagined that my revisit to the Yamal Peninsula this summer would end with a hike of 350 km across the flat tundra. But for various reasons my dreams about catching lifts in helicopters, motor boats and other transports remained a fantasy - and in this case you only have your own legs to rely on (see the photo series). It was two amazing months on the Siberian tundra, where I met more reindeer nomads than in all my previous trips together – and I am still amazed about the incredible hospitality that you meet under these harsh conditions.
In the spring I went to Iceland to ski 240 km from north to south. Lava fields without snow, open rivers, storms, rain and slush ice from the sky made the trip across Sprengisandur something of a challenge. Take a look at my article for a Danish travel magazine (in Danish) and see the photos series.
2009 was also the year when a new edition of my »Visiting Bulgaria« hit the streets (read more about it here) and where I was awarded first prize in the Traveller’s Guild Denmark’s journal called »Globen« in a competition about telling a story about being at the edge of the law (see »In the homeland of corruption« - in Danish).
2008
This winter I finally realised my long-term plan to travel to Kalmykia. This Buddhist province in southern Russia is historically closely related to Mongolia. There was once a time when the inhabitants rode on horses and lived in yurts on the steppe while herding their sheep. Unfortunately this is not the case anymore. For many years Kalmykia and the Kalmyks has become Russianfied and they have lost their traditions. I can’t, in all honesty, recommend travelling there as there are other and more interesting places in Russia. And, like me, you risk getting arrested several times by the local police and come under suspicion for being on your way to nearby Chechnya.
This summer I revisited the beautiful Lake Baikal in Siberia (see the photo series), but the high-light of the year was a trek in Kalar Mountains in the northern part of Chita Province where I tried to find the hunting and nomadic people called the Evenks. Unfortunately I did not find them, but as always there are lots of adventures to be had by travelling alone through the Siberian taiga (see the photo series and read my article about the trip – in Danish).
In November I won the yearly literary competition in Traveller’s Guild Denmark’s journal called »Globen«, and I was also awarded first prize in the same journal in a competition about telling a story about a hopeless situation (see the article about my meeting with a grizzly bear in Canada – in Danish).
2007
In March-April I finally succeeded in finding time to revisit the Yamal Peninsula after an absence of almost two years. I went skiing 200 kilometres across the tundra – from the station 220 km in the north to the village Panaevsk in south. In Yamal’s cold and inhospitable landscape, it was wonderful to be invited inside by the always hospitable reindeer nomads. We had to stay in one place for three days with one family due to the weather – in a small reindeer tent together with two brothers, three dogs and four puppies!
This summer I was in Tuva Republic in southern Siberia (see the photo series) – a place that in many respects is comparable to Mongolia, where nomads live in yurts and Buddhism and shamanism is seeing a revival after the collapse of the communism.
In autumn I won first place in the 'Culture' category of Traveller’s Guild Denmark photo competition with a picture of a reindeer-nomad from Yamal Peninsula, as well as third place in the same category with a photo of two generations on the Mongolian steppe.
During the same period I received two nominations at the Color Awards international photo competition in the 'People' category.
2006
The year started with a trip to Magadan in North-eastern Siberia (6000 km east of Moscow) where my plan was to hitch hike 2000 km west to Yakutsk along Kolyma Highway (see the photo series). The highway is unknown to most westerners, but for Russians it reminds them of Siberia at its coldest and Stalin’s most feared Gulag camps.
Midway on the route is Oymyakon – the coldest town on earth where I experienced my coldest ever temperature: minus 58.5 degrees Celsius. Cities which were formerly, well-functioning communities in the Soviet times have now shrunk to small ghost towns where vodka and unemployment sets the agenda. Nature is intact however, and is impressive even from the car window with beautiful views to mountains and limitless forests. Read my article »The coldest town on earth« (in Danish) in the newspaper Jyllandsposten.
In the autumn I competed in the classic bicycle race »Tour de Mongolia« (see the photo series) where I wore the yellow jersey (being the only competitor!). The race began in the Russian republic Gorno-Altaisk – and finished 2322 km further to the east in Ulaanbaatar after a ride through western and central Mongolia with view to endless steppes and expansive blue sky. It became a fight against the clock and I was especially challenged by Mongolia’s lousy roads, which can spoil the moral of even the most enthusiastic mountain biker. Above all, I will remember the trip for my many meetings with the Mongolian nomads. Even when I thought I had found the most hidden and outlying spot on the whole steppe to erect my tent, there was always a herder who had seen me with his binoculars and came galloping up to me during my dinner, dress-change, toilet or other moment during the evening. It is true that Mongolia has the smallest population – but nothing else drives this home as riding a bicycle through the steppe!
My trip to North-eastern Siberia and Mongolia helped me to win the sought-after »Folkersen prize« in Travellers Guild Denmark
for »alternative and extreme travel activity«.
2001-2005
My strongest memory is the meeting with the reindeer nomads from Yamal Peninsula, who I found during a wet day in the autumn 2001, after an aimless hike across the swampy tundra. Since then I have revisited the same family finding them by walking or skiing, depending on the season. The encounters have taught me to appreciate a cup of warm reindeer blood and a piece of raw liver – and I have come to appreciate the difference between a down jacket and reindeer coat in minus 46 degrees Celsius! Read my articles »Harsh living for women in Siberia« in the magazine Elle or »The Nenets – the Siberian reindeer nomads« in the magazine Adventure World (both in Danish/Norwegian).
It was also at this time I started to write my guidebooks about Russia (2004) and Bulgaria (2005) for the Danish publisher Politikens Forlag. In 2001 I won a first place in the ‘Culture’ category of Adventure World’s photo competition with the picture of an eagle hunter from western Mongolia, and in 2004 I won an award in the photo competition Humanity Photo Awards with a series of reindeer nomads from Yamal Peninsula. In 2005 I won the second place in Adventure Worlds photo competition with the picture of a reindeer-nomad from Yamal Peninsula, and during the same year achieved first place in a photo competition of Travellers Guild Denmark with the ice bather from Canada.
1988-2000
In grammar school I chose to study the language which sounded most useless, but least boring: Russian. After grammar school and a trip to Nepal, I went to stay for six months in the chaotic former Soviet Union at the beginning of the 1990’s. Staying with local families in Ukraine and the Urals became an intensive course in Russian culture and survival. Along the road my vocabulary was extended from »da« and »nyet« to include the words for vodka and bribery. The latter opened new doors and was the starting point for 35 further independent trips to Russia and the former Soviet Union. Most of the trips has taken place far from Russia’s polluted industrial towns on trekking, skiing or rafting trips in regions such as Kamchatka, Yakutia, the Urals, Lake Baikal, Karelia, Caucasus, Altai, Pamir and Kola Peninsula. My interest for nomadic people led me to the mountain slopes of Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, where fermented mare’s milk added an extra dimension to my travel life.
Later on Mongolia came on my list, which quickly became one of my favourites with its wonderful nomads and lack of infrastructure. My first visit was a two month summer trip where I thumbed, rode and hiked out over the steppes. A challenging (but successful) attempt to meet the reindeer nomads in the mountains west of Lake Khovsgol almost left me stranded, since flooded rivers closed the roads for one week. My curiosity to find out how to survive a continental winter in a felt tent inspired me to return a couple of years later, this time in December. Equipped with long woollen long johns and Sorel boots (with so called super pegs for the tent, which broke like dried spaghetti in the frozen turfs), I found out that you survive in the same way as in the summer, just with a little more clothes on and with some extra cow dung in the stove. Out in the extreme west I was introduced to the Kazakh eagle hunters’ noble hunting art – and I learnt that a flight ticket back to Ulaanbaatar is worthless, unless you can run faster out on the runway to the airplane than your fellow travellers. Read my article »Invited for tea by the nomads« (in Danish) in the magazine Adventure World.
Incidentally, 1998 was the year I graduated in forest science from the Royal Veterinary and Agricultural University (now Faculty of Life Science, Copenhagen University). My Masters thesis is about the relationship between climate and annual ring widths of pine trees in the Urals. Did I catch your attention?! If yes, then read my article in Tree-Ring Research which makes up a summary of the thesis.
1969-1987
My first journey took place in 1969 at Copenhagen University Hospital – from the maternity ward to the intensive care unit with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. At four years old I participated in a bicycle race with my dad, and just 10 years later I survived a 48 hour snow storm in a tent at Hadangarvidda in Norway. At the age of 17, I was charged by a bull walking alone through Gruvedalen in the Norwegian mountains, but my real baptism of fire came only a year later, with the help of my savings. Together with my long-time friend Steffen, we realized our childhood dream of canoeing down the Nahanni River in Canada’s North West Territories. With a small Danish stream as the only reference, we canoed backwards through the first rapid, and capsized in the second. The biggest challenge of all, however, was a chance encounter with a grizzly bear which almost brought the trip to an abrupt end. Only a desperate swim in the cold river saved us from suffering the same fate as the Canadian blue berries – and the incident featured as the top story in the Easter issue of the Danish magazine Hjemmet.
