Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1898-01-29
WINTER IN NORWAY
The Exhilaration of Riding on the
Swift Spidsslaede.
LIVELY PASfIMES ON SNOW And ice
Coasting on a Grade of 700 Feet
to the Mile.
A HAIR-LIFTING EXPERIENCE
hristiania Letter to the New York Post.

Ohristiania Letter TO the New York Post
A Norwegian's sleighing is commonly
done in ''spidsslaeder," conveyances which.
to the benightec foreigner, have their
drawbacks. A spidsslaede is a small low
hung, sharp-pointed cutter, somewhat re-
sembing swanboat on runners. Its body
Is built TO bold but one persona passen-
ger. The driver. poor man, sits behind,
quite out in the cold, on a little leather
perch. like a bicycle saddle. which is sup
ported by slender iron rods rising from the
runners. Specifically considered, this may
seem an unfair division of comforts. But
IL the Tretched drivers legs are dragged
through snow drifts or soused In mud pud-
dies. the face of the devoted passenger ia
as surely stung by particles OF broken ice
or spattered with dirty water, as the
horses hoofs send the one or the other
flying backward over the insufficient DASH
board Even in the hands OF the most
careful whip. the reins. passing as they do
through the dashboard ring straight across
the center of the sleigh. will occasionally
sap the passengers ears In a peculiarly
disconcerting manner
Regardless of these triles, the Christina
mans seem really TO rejoice in their uncom-
Portable little vehicles. For pure pleasure
my ShOcSe tHcm rdtner than the most
LUXURIOUS foreign-born sleigh and as a di-
version spidsslaeder' parties are much the
1ashfoh. On such occasions a long train of
spidsslaeder assemblies early In the after
noon at some convenient point in the city
rosy, blue-eyed, yellowed- haired Froken
Svanhild or 1hyra or Dagny, snugly bum
died in bearskin rugs, occupying each cut
ter. while Lieut.. This or Candidate That
balances on the perch behind. Thence they
start away in sirgle file, to the music OF
ciinking bells, far out over the snow 10
some country house or cheerful inn whore
d me not dinner rs prepared for them
Disposlng OF this, they dance until tn, n
have danced enough, then take to their
tete-a-tete siedges once more, and so back
through the sparkling starlight night TO
the sooty, fog-blanketed city.
Pony Races.
For use on the ice the spidsslaeder are
provided with depressable knife edged
blade, set close beside and parallel to one
runner, 10 be damned down by the foot OF
the crfver in case the sledge tends TO
make leeway"- on sharp curves Each
winter spidsslaede race for native ponies
Is heid on the frozen ford near Christiania.
large circular course is laid out and
hundreds of ponies-pretty, stocky animals.
with black and white hogged names and
with coats of every shade of yellow from
creamy to deep orange brcwn-are entered
by their peasant owners; for these sturdy
long-enduring little beasts are seldom used
except as draught horses, by others thar.
the peasantry- To the ordinary spectator
nothing could be less interesting than such
races-uniess. indeed. he is interested I'm
studying their singular perversity. OF the
dozen or more ponies the track at a
given moment no two are started together
as many are run from right to left as
from left to right, and not, the slightest
attention is paid to the weight OF the
driver. who may be a slip of a lad In brief
irieze jacket, or an aldermanic giant
bundled TO the ears in heavy wolfskins. As
a result one would think that even the
timekeepers themselves could hardly be the
wiser for the proceedings.
But in the kjaelkeagning-the kjaelke-
coasting-is some compensation of excite
ment. A kjaelke is a low. moderately
heavy wooden Sled primarily intended for
the use of fishermen on the ice and built
to carry two or four persons. The steerer
sits at the rear end. astride. guiding by
means of stout, flexible sapling pole
twelve or more feet long, which, clamped
under one arm and grasped in both hands.
he drags along the track behind him. The
passenger lies fat on his back, his head on
the steerer's knees. trusting to luck and the
law of gravitation to keep him there. since
he has neither rope nor rail nor any other
thing to hold to.
The Coasters' Paradise.
Just behind Christiania city rises a steep
hill. Frogner Saeter. This is the kjaelke
paradise. for all winter long the govern
ment reserves there exclusively for coast
ers and sk-runners a certain excellent
four-mile road, winding, partly in a zigzag.
from base to summit. No vehicles are
given ingress to block the way or mar its
even surface. 1t is a stif climb from the
town UP. but one grows used to stiff climbs
in Norway, and, moreover, the dragon
rooted sport room perched at the top,
with its great cracking birch log fire and
it's barbarous old Norsk interior decora-
lions. offers a resting place as coy as
quaint. where good hot coffee, chocolate
and other comfortable things are to be had
for refreshment.
The coast starts from the sport room"
door. Fancy yourself embarking for the
first time, stretched face upward on a mar
row board, your hands lying useless at
your sides, nothing to grasp anywhere
about that can be of the least service to
you. The steerer is in his place behind.
Are you ready?" he asks, and gives a lit
tie shove with his pole whereupon the
board begins to move gently with slow
gliding. This. you think, is going to be
faster, faster! You begin to feel ner-
vous, to wonder just what would happen
If you shot on, almost to wish you had
stayed at home; and then by degrees the
You regain your composure, and, sincerely
trusting that your companion does not
guess how scared you have been. devote
your mind to enjoying the situation and TO
admiring the landscape.
Safe mt Last.
But before you have fairly realized how
very odd that landscape looks, seen from
the bottom up. and all flying. the kjaelke
reasserts itself. Dangling for one sicken-
ing moment in the air-whzz!-it is OF,
tearing down what appears to your star
tied wits an angle of forty-five degrees.
This is the upper end OF the zigzag; for
the next mile or more you are to be switch
ed about corners, snapped around curves
and spun along the ragged edge OF preci-
pices at a rate that will literally sti1en
you with fright. You feel you might in
a runaway hand-truck let loose at the top
of Mt. Washington railway II you turn
your head to the right, behold an immi-
pent swimming wall of seamy gray-the
bare granite cliff. II you look to the left.
it is only to see heaving, shapeless black
green mass-the frs on the precipice edge
whirling past in such wild confusion that
you are glad to turn your dizzy eyes to
the narrow strip of sky above. devoting
such OF your sense as has not been scat
tered. like dust from flying bullet, to ly-
ing as limp as may be. and hoping family
that the next lurch around the next curve
will neither smash you against the clin
nor send you down to break your bones In
the rocky ravine below.
EVERYTHING. however ends In time.