In winter, the lakes of central Sweden become a skaters paradise.
Its super-safe, he had said earlier, jumping up and down to make his point.
The only sound I heard was the whistling of my blades as they glided across the glossy surface.
Skaters on a frozen lake just south of Stockholm.Credit:Pierre Mangez/Courtesy of Green Trails
Together, we watched an orientation video: Carry ice picks.
A backpack doubles as a flotation equipment.
If you fall in, dont panic.
The region gets little snow, which leaves the ice clear and smooth.
Under a cloudless sky, we pulled up to Hokmossbadet, a small beach in the town of Nykvarn.
We walked to the end of the dock and snapped on our blades.
Veteran skaters in the group gleefully took off.
Hoping speed would help, I picked up the pace and landed on my face.
Luckily, thanks to my helmet and kneepads, I was unbruised.
I tightened my laces and tried again.
It took a few minutes, but I settled into a meditative step-glide, step-glide rhythm.
Turns out, the ice we had been skating on was thick, maybe six inches.
Boring, Ayroulet joked.
We formed a single file behind Zaoral and headed toward the southern shore.
The ice became thinner.
My skates felt lighter and faster as we zipped across the surface.
The pine trees became a blur, casting long shadows in the honey-colored winter sun.
The sound changed, too.
We were exhausted but exhilarated, having skated 20 miles that day.
The next morning, we set out directly from the hotels front door.
Ayroulet told us to follow him to avoid falling through any weak points.
Instead of a direct line, we charted a snaking path to the waterfront.
I leaned forward against the hard wind, the flakes stinging my cheeks, and relished every stride.
Two-day Nordic skating expeditions withGreen Trailsfrom $383, all-inclusive.
