Northern lights: Little Red Riding Hood

Staring at myself in the mirror in my cabin at the Lapland lodge I have to laugh; I look just like the Michelin tyre man. I am certain I put on at least 15 layers and can barely touch my toes but I am damned sure I’m not going to feel cold on my trip out tonight; I don’t want anything to ruin my chance of photographing the Northern Lights. There is not an inch of skin showing, I’d been warned it was going to drop to at least -20oC and the tour had said we would be out for several hours.

Just then my phone buzzes: a message from Sarah telling me the tour group was gathering outside and I hurry out to meet them. Grabbing my camera bag, extra heat pouches to keep my batteries warm and my phone I run across the lodge complex from my cabin to the group waiting by the “aurora waggons” as they call them, towed by large snowmobiles.

At the front Sarah is shamelessly flirting with the tour operator. She was the one to find this tour and booked it in town, telling me that the guy running it was super-hot and she was hoping to get lucky, I shake my head slightly irritated, she is supposed to be here to support me.

My ex dumped me suddenly a couple of weeks ago after meeting someone at his gym who, as he put it, “fit him better” whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. So here I am at 24, single and pissed off, I’d had a couple of boyfriends in my teenage years that just sort of fizzled out but I’d been with my ex since Uni and he was my first for a lot of things, so his betrayal hit me hard.

This was originally going to be a couple’s holiday for Christmas and I considered cancelling but this is a bucket list trip for me and there was no way in hell I was going to waste the money I’d already paid. Thankfully the lodge was able to accommodate Sarah in another room, when I invited her to take his place, even if it was across the other side of the resort complex.

I love Sarah to bits, but I booked a romantic double bed cabin and we are far too old to share a bed like we’d done as kids, staying up till midnight giggling together, telling each other horror stories and sneaking “midnight snacks”. I smile fondly now, looking at Sarah then across at the tour guide, he was pretty cute (what I could see of him in the layers he wore too) and Sarah had been single a while, so I couldn’t begrudge her, if she met someone new.

We all pile into the waggons, Sarah and I taking the last two seats at the rear and then the convoy lurches forward into the snowy covered forest.

The scenery is stunning the lights of the snowmobiles casting shadows across the snow covered trees in the dark, everyone seems to talk in hushed tones trying not to spoil the magic. We ride in silence for once, just taking in the calm of the night, watching the stars in the clear sky and our breath crystalising in the cold as the occasional arctic hare, scared out from the bushes, runs across our path.

“Right,” our tour guide shouts loudly as the snowmobiles grind to a halt, “this is our northern lights viewing area, out you get and come and warm yourselves by the campfire, there is hot chocolate and biscuits and if you get too cold there is a small glass viewing cabin you can stand in to warm up. Don’t stray too far from this area and bear in mind we’re heading off in about an hour.

Now the Northern Lights don’t appear every night and although they have been fairly active this week as much as I wish I could guarantee it, as I would be the most profitable tour operator in Lapland,” this garners a chuckle from the assembled group “there is a chance we won’t see them but hopefully you’ll still all enjoy the trip and give me 5 stars on google,” (another chuckle breaks out).

After Sarah gets her hot chocolate she heads over to the tour guide again and starts chatting whilst I set up my camera and tripod, waiting for the lights to appear, I grab a hot chocolate and biscuit and wait by myself but although the stars are beautiful and I take some shots of the trees glowing in the light of the campfire, the Northern Lights are yet to appear.

The hour ticks by slowly and still no sign of the lights; sighing I pack my stuff up as we head back to the snowmobiles. Sarah comes bounding over to me all excited saying she is going to sit up front with Lief, the guide, as they’ve definitely hit it off and she is pretty certain they are going to be hooking up tonight, I smile at her and wish her good luck before I head back to my seat at the rear, on my own.

As the snowmobiles set off back into the forest I think I hear the howling of a wolf nearby, followed by more howls further off, a little shiver runs down my back. Living in Britain where there are no dangerous animals unless you count cows (which apparently kill several people every year), I’d forgotten in places like this, it wasn’t safe to wander in the woods by yourself.

We’ve been travelling for only a few minutes when there is suddenly a shout from a few people up front and I look up to see the Northern Lights have appeared, it is breathtaking watching the green and purple waves across the sky but there is no way I am going to be able to take photographs on a moving waggon. Thankfully the snowmobiles towing us stop suddenly, the guide jumps out and runs down saying anyone who wants to take some quick pictures is more than welcome to jump out and they will stop for 20 minutes, but we can’t stay too long as they have to get back into town.

I grab my camera bag and head off a little way into the trees where I can see a small clearing allowing me to get a better angle at the sky without the lights of the snowmobiles causing issues with my long exposure shots. Peeling off my thick outer gloves I struggle a bit with my thin glove liners still on but manage to get the camera set up and connected onto the tripod and I start taking a few shots, careful to put on the timer, I turn off my head torch and then stand back so no movement or excess light spoils the shots.

As I am taking another exposure, I hear the noise of the snowmobiles starting back up and I hurry to pack up my gear. As I stuff it back into my bag I hear the guide saying they are good to go and the waggons start to move off, horrified I run towards them waving my head torch and shouting but they can’t hear me over the noise of the engines and they quickly pick up speed, disappearing into the distance.

Cursing I pull my phone out my pocket and check the time, what the hell, they aren’t supposed to leave for another 5 minutes he definitely said 20 minutes not 15. They have left early but why had Sarah not told them I wasn’t back yet? I mentally slap myself of course she was now sat at the front with the guide completely unaware of what I was doing at the back. I don’t imagine the old couple sat in front of me even realised I was behind them in the first place, let alone that I had got off to take photos.

Shit, shit, shit, I am a bloody idiot for not telling anyone I was heading to the clearing but the guide hadn’t counted us in or out like he was supposed to either, probably distracted by all Sarah’s flirting; I am royally fucked. I sit down for a minute to catch my breath and think this through; I am alone in the middle of the forest, in Lapland, with wolves and right now no one knows I am here.

I look at my phone, as I feared, no signal; I still try 112, just in case, but nothing connects.

Right, when would anyone realise I am missing? Sarah is clearly about to head back to her room with Lief or maybe his place and probably won’t check in with me as she already told me her plans. She isn’t going to realise until tomorrow morning, one night shouldn’t be too bad, then I groan. I booked a whale watching tour for tomorrow and she gets seasick, so she bowed out, opting to stay at the resort and have a spa day. She might send me a text or two to catch me up on her antics last night but she won’t expect me to reply straight away, assuming I’ll be on the boat with no signal again. So the likelihood is I won’t be missed until tomorrow evening when we are supposed to meet for dinner, what am I supposed to do for 24 hours out here where the temperature is rapidly dropping?

I weigh up my options: staying in this spot isn’t a good idea there is nothing here so I can either try to follow the snowmobile tracks back into town or head back the way I came to the Northern Lights viewing area. We had been travelling for a good 40 to 50 minutes to get to the viewing area but only been travelling back about 10 minutes when we took the photo pit stop, it is clear the campsite is definitely closer than trying to walk the whole way back into town.

It is already snowing again, the tracks might be completely covered by the time I get halfway back, then I’ll really be stuffed. I figure the tour guides will be doing another tour tomorrow evening at the same spot so if I stay there, it is my best bet for being found. There is a chance the campfire will still be going and maybe I can get into the little glass cabin for extra protection overnight.

Standing up stiffly, the cold from the snow already getting through my layers, I start trudging back in the compacted tracks using my head torch to follow them as they wind through the trees, hoping that the wolves I heard earlier are heading away from this part of the woods.

After walking for nearly an hour I finally spot the hut and the campfire circle from earlier, relieved I run over to it tugging on the door to discover it is locked. Unbelievable I think why bother locking anything out here in the middle of nowhere then I sigh and start looking at what I can use.

Heading next to the campfire I realise I can still some embers burning, they’d kicked some snow over it to put it out but it is still partially alight, thank goodness. I look in the little open sided shed and find a stack of wood piled up behind the circle of logs everyone had used as makeshift seats. There is still some kindling too. I grab some bits and push them carefully into the embers, blowing on it to re-ignite the sparks and then hold my breath as the fire crackles, adding a small log I cross my fingers as finally the fire takes hold and roars back into life.

I add a bit more wood gradually until it builds up a good amount of heat; I move as close to it as I dare and thank my lucky stars I’d had to help my nan re-kindle her woodburning stove every morning when I’d stayed at hers during the school holidays. At the time I grumbled as the chore was horrendous but had to be done, it was her only source of heating and hot water in the cottage and I begged my parents to stay with my other grandparents, who had central heating, but now I am grateful, as it is so easy to kill a fire by swamping it with damp wood.

The cooking tripod still hung over the fire and the pan they’d made the hot chocolate in was hanging on a nail inside the shed I can’t see any sign of the biscuits or the hot chocolate packets from earlier but I do find a pen knife dropped down by the wood store, clearly it had been used to cut open the kindling packet, I smile ruefully I’m not certain something that small will be good against a wolf but it is certainly better than nothing. I realise I am going to have to keep the fire going as there is no sign of anything to re-light it with, they must have taken the lighter or matches they used back with them so I set a timer on my phone and try to get some sleep.

I don’t sleep very well waking every 30 minutes to add more wood to keep the fire going hoping it will keep the animals away and stop me freezing, grateful I’d spent all that time back at the lodge adding those extra layers. I grumble to myself about the predicament I now find myself in, hoping human sounds scare the predators off, rather than attracting them. Occasionally I think I see lights glimmering through the trees reflections of the fire in the eyes of animals watching me but thankfully nothing approaches and there are no more howls so I rest as best I can.