Chötbullar fascinate me. I was already enamoured by the small, round meatballs in our local blue and yellow furniture stores. Now I'm sitting in Tottebu with Mattias, Jorgen, Janne and Karen and have these things on my plate. Not kötbullar, but chötbullar, with a soft K. Sweden is different from Ikea after all. I can't read anything on the menu of the day, and luckily Karen doesn't know what the Swedish krona is worth when I order another oil. Oil means beer in Swedish and it's bloody expensive up here. It's our second evening in Åre, the largest ski resort in Scandinavia.
It is located in Jämtland in central Sweden, so not exactly round the corner. It's a good 1500 kilometres by car from Hamburg. Another 1000 kilometres north and you're in the Arctic Circle. We're here for the biking. A few years ago, Åre took up the cause of mountain biking. There are now many tours, trails and a bike park that is very reminiscent of Whistler.
Our companions are as different as the routes: Jörgen gets up at four in the morning and sneaks out of the house to continue building his trail. He doesn't want to be seen doing this, after all he has a real job in the winter sports business. Janne works as a ski coach for the young members of the Swedish national freestyle team in winter and goes biking in summer. He lives with his girlfriend, his dog and his horses on a farm just outside Åre. Mattias has lived in Åre for twelve years. He photographs freeride ski stars all over the world. In summer, he spends as much time as possible on the trails. He pulls out his camera there too. They have something in common: their club, the Åre Bergcyclista. Under this name, 300 bikers from Åre and the surrounding area unite to form a strong lobby. So strong that they were able to convince the ski resort's investors to build a bike park. The first Bergcyclista festival last July attracted 600 bikers from all over the world.
I arrange to go biking with Janne, Markus and Klas the next day. It's a windy four degrees. Karen and I wear down, the boys come in short jerseys. They say we'll be quite warm on the first steep climb anyway. Step by step, we gain metres in altitude. Above Björnen, we cross the ski slope, then it's off to trail fun. Narrow and winding, left - right, roots, stones, it tends to go downhill, but the short counter-climbs hurt, the air stays cold.
The trail is called "Sonstigen" (Sun Trail) and was created around 100 years ago, when hikers in Åre could actually still enjoy the sun. Nowadays, you can only catch the occasional glimpse of the lake through the dense forest. Never mind, that would only distract you anyway. It's hard enough to keep up with Klas and the rest of the gang. A few bends further down, we come across the bike park trails. We decide in favour of blue and have a lot of fun, one berm follows the next. After a lot of flow and a few hundred metres of altitude further down, we roll straight into tranquil Åre.
After a short rest, we head up again. This time with the Kabinbana. The only large-capacity gondola in Scandinavia takes us up Åreskutan. The view here is phenomenal. Endless expanses as far as Norway, lakes and rivers that disappear into the distance. Not a tree, not a bush here, almost 1400 metres above sea level. It's all high alpine rocky landscape, and we're right in the middle of it. We choose the Easy Rider for the way down into the valley. The locals affectionately call the trail Rockrider. Not entirely without reason - it shakes and rattles. A little further down, we set course for Jorgen's Trail. A piece of unspoilt nature through which a narrow ribbon of trail winds, with plenty of flow and lots of cranberries. The sun shines through a dark front of rain clouds and illuminates the end of the tunnel, we almost lose ourselves in nature's play of light. I think I'll eat chötbullar again today, no matter what's in it ...
You can find the entire Sweden article as a PDF download below.
