The Dark Valley



Something happens when the dark valley turns white with snow.

There is a ski resort between ocean inlets of Sognefjord and Hardangerfjord in western Norway, near the town of Voss, and in a place you could not imagine anyone living. Officially, the destination is called Voss Fjellandsby, which means Voss Mountain Village. That’s an OK name by all means, but not one used by Norwegians skiers. Nor by Swedes. Nor by Americans, for that matter.

We all say Myrkdalen.
The Dark Valley.

And we ask each other : “Have you heard how much snow there is in Myrkdalen right now?”“Yes. Myrkdalen is buried in snow!” we answer.“Have you seen the videos from Myrkdalen on Facebook?”“Yes. Several times!” we say.“Have you seen the latest weather forecast for Myrkdalen?”“Yes. The snow is falling by the bucket!” we say.“Are you going to Myrkdalen soon?”“Yes. We’re going there this weekend!” we say.“Clearly, Myrkdalen is the place to be this winter.”“Yes!” we cheer.“Myrkdalen forever!”

And now here we are, a Friday morning in February. The snow is everywhere, the sun is everywhere and, by golly, the free skiers are everywhere as well. The parking lot is crawling with them : men and women between the ages of 19 and 43, with skis the size of the USS Nimitz, goggles, technical clothing in all the colors of the rainbow and big smiles behind scruffy beards. Some are students, some have parental leave, some work shifts and some just took time off.

Because this is a day we don’t want to miss.
No one should miss this Dark Valley day.

Look. there is Kjetil Isaksen : Local hero and Norrøna skiing ambassador. There is Torkel Karoliussen, globe trotter and Norrøna team leader. And there, with the gigantic camera, is Sverre Hjørnevik, Norrøna Magazine’s star photographer. He’s from Voss too. “What a day!” we say to each other.“Just incredible!” we say.“Let’s get started,” says Sverre.

Well said. We need to get started. We take the chair-lift up. We go into a tuck for the run down to the Kari Traa lift. Take the T-Bar to the top. Go off to the right. Move toward the enormous flanks of the Finnbunuten mountain. Assess the avalanche risk. Talk. Tighten our boots. And, in the end, point our ski tips toward the bottom of the valley.

Go over the edge.
Forget the world.
Just be.

What can we actually say about Myrkdalen, other than there is a lot of snow there? Quite a bit, actually. First and foremost, it is a beautiful farming village of about 300 people. The writer Sjur Bygd (1889-1985) lived here. Fiddler Sjur Helgeland (1858-1924) was born here. The renowned Norwegian philosopher Hans Skjervheim (1926-1999) also came from here. Among other things, he published the philosophical work “Der moderne Objektivismus und die Wissenschaft vom Menschen” in 1957. Think about that next time you’re riding the six-seater Myrkdal Express up the mountain toward a new deep powder experience. Think a little about your packed lunch, the lactic acid in your thighs and Der moderne Objektivismus und die Wissenschaft vom Menschen.

In just a few years – from the late 1990s until now – Myrkdalen went from being a hamlet with a few cows and an old ski jump to a skiing desti-nation with several lifts, a multitude of trails and thousands of visitors. Men and women of vision saw the opportunity in the heavy snowfalls and steep mountainsides. People from Norway’s second city, Bergen, came in droves with dollars and down jackets to build cabins of Siberian timber. It was a revolution. A paradigm shift. And it’s not over yet : Over the next few years, Voss Fjellandsby Myrkdalen plans to invest – hold onto you hats! – 700 million kroner (euro 90 million) in the area. Plans include “11 ski-lifts, a gigantic network of runs and capacity of 3,000 people an hour,” according to the desti-nation itself. As their board chairman put it, “we’re going to advance to the premiere league, put Voss and Myrkdalen on the map for Alpine Norway and bolster it as a year-round travel destination.”

It’s almost too much to believe. The story of Myrkdalen is like a modern Klondike. The gold, in this case, is white. And there are fresh supplies each winter : About five meters of snow each season.

Down in the valley, as I surf down a snow-covered road toward the ski area after the absolutely best run of the season, after whoops of joy in the forests, it occurs to me that The Dark Valley is not just The Dark Valley anymore.

The Dark Valley is also The Dazzling Valley.
Dazzling snow.
Dazzling sun.
The best possible combination.