To talk about it first hand, this year's race had been blessed by prime winter weather and should become a special experience. To the end it even developed into a «sprint» race over the last lap of 85 km.

With a third of the participants, Germany was well represented. There could have been even  more German mushers participating, but some just came into the area for training and exploring parts of the race trail. They missed  this rare opportunity to experience the race under almost perfect conditions.

The team of the race organization had changed. There were some new faces among the experienced oldtimers and obviously a new style. It even seemed that they might have a special connection to the weather god as the „Kaiser weather“ continued during the complete event.

Three weeks before the race, a high pressure system had moved into the area: -20 Celsius at night, bright sunshine during the day, luckily with short periods of snowfall. This given, trailboss Mikael, who also represents the one-man trail crew, has been able to establish a perfect trail over the 300+ km. Down in Central Europe a lot of sprint races would have loved to have such a trail.

The mass start on the lake has been replaced by a stress-free single start in two-minute intervals. This is good for the dog teams which can begin the race without a big turmoil. Anneliese and some spectators regret the change, but probably none of the starters.

I'm first out on the trail, which is well packed and in good condition. So a few kilograms of equipment and dog food more in the sled bag will hardly show an effect on the speed of the team.  Except for the MD-races, we have anyway always trained with weight in the sleight (either equipment or - more often - Anneliese), from the start of our snow training after Christmas.

January had been a demanding month for us. Because it is relatively cold and dark in Scandinavia at this time of the year, only few snowmobilers go outside. This year not at all, because sunshine comes only bundled with extreme cold, and abundant snow bundled with strong winds. Whenever we have to train longer distances - and that we have to do as preparation for the Femundlopet - we have to break trail ourselves. This requires lots of time and reminds of Sisyphus, since consistent winds let the deep tracks of the snowmobile disappear within hours. The task for the lead dogs now is mostly "find the trail". Sometimes we are out for 8 or 9 hours to run 60 or 70 km through 30 or 40 cm of deep snow. Which reminds us, that you train hours, not miles! Our longest training with overnight camping was 120 km. That is not overwhelming, but should be sufficient for to just get through the Femund-400. For the goal to win the current Polardistans it seems to be a little meager.

After the extensive deep snow training we drove to the Femund-400 on the 1st of February. 25 km before crossing the border to Norway, we stopped at Drevdagen to make a short, last training run. Unlike in recent years, the snowmobile trails have grassy and brown patches, we never before have experienced running here.

In the afternoon we continue our drive up to Röros. Suddenly raindrops appear on our windshield. When we cross the Femundtrail before Tufsingdahlen, it shows brown spots with about 10 cm of snow left. The lakes and lower parts of the landscape are filled with water. In the meanwhile the rain is pouring down heavily. The roads are now basically free of snow, but icy spots and lots of water are forcing us to drive slow.

The parking place at our hotel in Röros feels like an ice skating ring and we need our spike shoes to drop the dogs. 10 o'clock PM it is still raining heavily and the temperature is well above freezing point. According to the TV-news, this has never happened the years before in this time of the year; a little further north they have severe flooding and some roads washed away. The weatherman predicts rain and mild weather until Friday night and cooling off by Saturday.

It is Wednesday night now. We are early in town to watch the Femund 600 start the next evening. Our start will not take place before Friday night.

After discussing the situation, we come to the conclusion, that we actually had promised ourselves not to run races anymore under such conditions. This had happened on February 19th, 1994, when Anneliese and myself were racing in the Midnight Run / U.P. 200, while there was a major warmup during race week. Bill Orazietti from the UP200 drivers died, crossing Little Bay de Noc (Lake Michigan) in the night, after having completed his layover. With fog building up, he missed the trail, came on thin ice and drowned with his team, just 100 m from the shore. We both had crossed the Bay with our teams just 12 hours before, running in the limited class.

In search of a race without water, we phone to Germany, knowing that the Trans-Thüringia, a purebreed stage race, is scheduled for the coming-up weekend. The mountains in central Europe have unreal, massive snowfall. The race organization welcomes our start. While it is still raining, Manfred cancels his entry the next morning at the registration office, where the Femund-600 mushers pick up their bibs. We rush back and find ourselves on a non stop drive 2200 km back to Germany, including a tire change at 6:30 in the morning before boarding the ferry to Denmark (studded tires are banned in Central Europe). However, we are not quick enough to make the first heat of the race. This means we are starting in the Touring class without official timing. The team enjoys the change to groomed trails. Each run they get faster and I must say, running there was a lot of fun.

While this shoots through my mind, we approach Checkpoint “Storbäcken” after 2:35 hours for the 45 km. My handler is missing, but I do not need her anyway. All dogs look fine and I have nobody to drop, other than last year. I do not need to feed yet, since I give the dogs about every 1:30 hour of running an energy boosting fat-snack.

While leaving the checkpoint, Anneliese arrives and asks if the dogs are okay. She had calculated the times from last years running and did not expect the team to be as fast.

The sun is shining bright and the temperature is rising. For the next kilometers we have to run through swamps and open forest. This means for some hours the team will be exposed to the sun. After about 80 km there is next to the trail a nice, quiet place with an open shelter, well known to the dogs. The plan is to stop there to give the dogs a yummy meat soup and another fat-snack.

The team is drinking and eating well, while I repack my gear. After pulling the hook, we are on our way again, picking up a quick pace. In the meanwhile two teams have overtaken me. My German fellow driver Hannes Krempl takes his  rest  two miles down the trail. Swiss Musher Pierre Heritier has stopped his team near Kringelfjorden and waits for me to go ahead. After crossing the Österdalälven river the trail follows a different route, compared to last year's race trail, to get to Checkpoint “Offroad”.

My team knows the way, since we have trained the week before over this part of the course.

By 17:15 pm we are the first nomestyle team into the Checkpoint. Including our stop we have run the 124 km (GPS) in 8:15 hours, with a height difference of 1250 m.

The Veterinarian Anki Heinonen checks the wellness of the dogs, before my handler is allowed to lead my team to a quiet spot at the far end of the camp. I myself learn to dislike this place when I take care of my dogs. The compressed snow is not supporting my weight and I punch through with every second step. Besides this I have the longest way to the building with water and toilet. But I must admit it's directly at the restart and we are not disturbed by incoming teams. I feel tired like my dogs and complain at my handler about the “stupid spot” while stripping off the booties and putting on blankets. She leaves me, since handler help is not allowed anyway. I perform the remaining checkpoint-program with fetching and heating up water, feeding a hot meat soup followed by Eagle Ultra for my hungry team. Now I can take care of myself and heat water for tea in the Thermos and an outdoor meal (Spaghetti). This is not a gourmet meal like on halfway-point Iditarod, but it must do. I crawl into my sleeping bag and hope to catch 3 hours of sleep.

I have set the alarm clock at 2 hours before my restart. My stiff muscles and joints rebel when the alarm goes off and complain about the little rest. The temperature is now down to -26 Celsius.

Anneliese shows up to check if my alarm was working. I rush to take care of the dogs and to pack up in the hope of warming my body. I also like to put booties on all four feet of my dogs, to minimize the risk of snowballs in the paws at this frosty temperature.

My Swiss fellow competitor is also ready to leave for his start at 23:22. To me it seems that he is waiting for me to go first. Because of the time differential I am not allowed to start before 23:25. Since I want to avoid to become a pacemaker again, I take my time booting the dogs and putting vaseline on their feet.. Finally he checks out at 22:44 and I follow him 15 minutes later, a few seconds before midnight.

We begin the climb up into the mountains (Fjälls). We are blessed with an unforgettable run under full moon, needing no extra light at all. The mountain peaks are dressed in silvery white, shining under a dark blue sky. It appears to be out of this world.

There is no wind, no sound except for the breathing of the dogs and the sound of the runners. The view seems to be endless and no other living thing around, except my dogs and me. Only one pair of skis are laying lonely on the side of the trail, while the dogs seem to fly towards the crest.  Up here the temperature is only -11 Celsius and we reach Checkpoint Lövhögen in no time. Two teams are resting in front of the building. The checker is just coming out of the little shed, so I can check in and out within seconds.

Early in the morning at 6:29, completing the 96 km with a height difference of 1050 m, we again pull into Checkpoint Offroad. Nobody outside yet. I look for a nearby place to park my team. I strip the booties and put on some blankets. Then I wake up Anneliese at home via the cellular phone and take a sip of luke-warm tea, before I go to the building to get water. At 6:55 I report my arrival to the Vet-Lady, who had been on duty all night long. It seems nobody was expecting these fast trail times. My team enjoys the warm meat soup and eats some small portions of Ultra.

In the meanwhile my Swiss fellow competitor also arrived. He was one of the teams parking in Lövhögen and felt pressured when I did not stop. Now it is clear to me that we both will have a  race over the last lap and to the finish line. He and his team is more experienced in longer distance racing, since he raced Le Grande Odyssee and also finished Femund 400 this year.

My dog handler has also arrived. Anneliese did not imagine a trail time of 6:30 hours, after last year's 9 hour run through the mountains.

Even so all dogs had drunk well, they had only little appetite for other food. After the fast run downhill, the team seems not to relax and sleep properly. When moving around some look shivery and stiff.  We decide to cut the rest short and start to evaluate the dogs for lameness. I take each animal on a leash and have it trot to loosen up, so Anneliese can watch from the distance. I decide to leave two dogs in the checkpoint with odd movement.

At 8:45 my 8 dogs and I are ready to go. The veterinarian is checking me out for the last lap over 85 km.

Pierre, the Swiss driver, follows me shortly with his team reduced to 7 dogs now.

The sun is out and it looks like it will be a glorious day with rising temperatures. I count on plus degrees (above freezing) and avoid any pressure on the team. Slowly the six girls and two boys loosen up and start moving down the course. I myself have problems with my knees, especially the right one. I probably overworked it and will not be able to support my dogs as much as in the other laps.

Derby and Dallas, my 7 year old leaders, set a moderate pace for the first third of the final stretch. After 30 km the temperature shows +3 Celsius at the thermometer which is attached to my sled. Pierre has started at 8:47 and pulls now up behind me. He agrees when I ask him if he likes to pass. I rather have my team to run the last lap with as little stress and pressure as possible. The 3 km stretch over the Lake to the Finish line gives me a good chance to overtake.

The next 30 km, while I follow Pierre's team, reassure me that my dogs look fresher and have today more speed and stamina than his. Even with stopping and snacking the dogs in between, and later changing to younger leaders, I never have a problem catching up to him again. I make sure that we follow in a comfortable distance of 100 to 500 m behind. This open, swampy area makes it easy to have him always in sight. The last 25 km are more or less downhill. We have now +5 Celsius. I reduce the distance to one to two team lengths, just to be safe. 3 km before the finish line the trail passes a house, then crosses a blocked road and drops down to the lake. Suddenly the team in front of me is bolting around the house and leaving the race trail. I jump at this chance, call up my team and start the dash to the finish line right now. Howdye and Lima, my two young leaders pick up speed while I pedal as good as I can. 200 m before the finish we bring up the tension not just for the spectators: The inexperienced girls follow a wrong snowmobile track. I have to set the hook and correct both; it is only a matter of seconds though. Now we climb up the lake shore while I push and pedal the sled with my last energy.

A small group of people, spectators, handlers and race organization greet us in excitement. After 6:23 hours, 87 km and 550 m height difference we have reached the finish line. Total time including all rests is 30:17, running time about 20:08. One minute later, Pierre also has made it in. The dash to the finish has ruined my knee and I feel at least as sore and tired as my dogs. All are now getting pampered by the handlers. Didn't I want to condition myself properly for such an event? Hopefully next year: There is always room for improvement!

Thanks to my dogs, handler, helpers, competitors and the unweary members of the race organization for an unforgettable experience.