I keep seeing pictures of summer.. Summer the way that I have grown up to define it. In the Arctic, summer is defined otherwise. Summer in the Arctic is endless sunny nights, and seemingly endless rain, wind, snow, and hail. I think that I can count the number of days that the thermometer has risen above 10°C in June. For the most part, the temperature has lain steadily around 6°C, with dips down to 3°C…
I love the Arctic, but I must admit that I have missed summer, or at least I have missed access to a proper sauna..
But even with that relentless yearning for a proper inside-out warm-up, it is completely impossible to stop loving Tromsø. Come rain or snow, or hail, or come shine, the beauty of the Arctic still makes my eyes pop out of their sockets once or twice per day.
With warmth being such a scarce resource, the search for snow-free trails (and ice-free fingers) has been a proper hunt. So many days I’ve scrutinize the mountains on my way to work. So many nights I’ve tried to recollect south-west facing hills with good drainage. The mountains of Troms are uncountable, south-west facing trails with good drainage are not. But we do know a few, and man, to go down those precious pearls feels just like playing Bohemian Rhapsody (and trying to sing along) on max volume in the car with the windows down (thereby really hurting the ears of anyone within a miles distance) -> slightly embarrassing (because you skid all over the place and sometimes stand on your nose) and still bloody exhilarating.
So far, we may not have seen much of what you call summer up here in the way-up-north, but we have seen both gray and golden explosions in the sky, green explosions on the ground and lots of smiling grins on our faces. That goes a long, long way.