After the skiing and showers we meet up for dinner at the guesthouse. I order a beer from the bar and look for a table with familiar faces. The room is quickly filled with  laughter and talk about the day´s skiing and past experiences from the area. There is a great sense of tradition in the atmosphere; it´s easy to imagine that little has changed here since the guesthouse opened in the 1960´s.

I watch as the women descend in to the blizzard one by one, poles on one hand, ice axe on the other. Surprisingly the first fall takes place on the blue slope on the way back to the lift, when 34-year-old Mari Havola from Helsinki pre-releases her Marker Kingpin binding. She gets up laughing and says the fall probably earned her the colorful tea kettle cover she and her friends brought along as a trophy for the person who crashes first during the event.

We were pushing our rental bikes up one meter at a time in soaking-wet clothes, with sore muscles from all the biking we had already done during the day. I could see from the expression on my girlfriend Laura´s face, that she was not exactly happy that my travel itinerary had not worked out the way I planned it. And she also let me hear about it – loud and clear.