Kang-Chun Cheng

Maps at an old cabin to straighten things out.

Reindeers swim through a melting river during their annual migration to summer grounds.

Mikkel drives his snowmobile like a crazy person- we go up what feels like 70 or 80 degree inclines, and he veers his snowmobile on one blade to use gravity to power us up. I asked him, have you ever had an accident before? ‘Many times’. One time, going up, I was a bit startled when he had to shift his body-weight suddenly by suddenly jumping from one side to another. My surprise translated to my grip (just one hand on the handle of his rifle case, attached to the right side of the vehicle). One moment I was on the snowmobile, the next i wasn’t. The roaring of the machine is was loud that I didn’t give more than a halfhearted shout, just waited on the slope of snow to see if he would turn around. He did. Hadn’t even felt that I was gone. He noticed at the top of the hill, with great surprise. Lucky for me- the tundra doesn’t take care of you.

// Later on, he let me drive the snowmobile over a flat patch of the snow. It’s fun, and far more interesting than just hanging on the back for dear life. I went a bit fast over the bumps and grass, but got the hang of it. The best part is going over melting rivers of ice, where the water spouts up like a geyser when we past it. I would have gotten a photo but there was no way to not fall off. The water is either golden from the slanting arctic sun, or seafoam green and turquoise- the change of colouration must come from algae, ice thickness. Mikkel said that now that I can drive, I can go back and, gesturing at the hills with the missing reindeer, “take care of this shit.” (Finnmark, 2019).

We come across a male calf that has starved to death- the body had not yet frozen stiff. Henda explains that the calf had acted very much like a bull back in autumn, wanting to mate with the females, and consequently malnourishing himself in the process.

Diggal, Henda’s dog, is almost 2 and learning his way and trust around the herds.

Reindeer must be fed before they go hungry, or else they will gorge themselves to death. Feedings didn’t start until about 20 years ago due to concerns that layers of snow and ice are too thick for reindeer to break through and forage for the vegetation.

Dressed up in traditional Sami koftes for a family friend’s birthday dinner.

Nothing shouts spring quite like last year’s decay.

Heads of carcasses found in the mountains to be brought to the police station for examination. Those with satisfactory proof of eagle damage will be compensated.

Cutting out the fat from a hunk of reindeer steak.

Reindeer skins decorate cabins and make for excellent lap blankets and rugs. The hairs are hollow, retaining warm air well but making them quite brittle.

Fieski: a Sami word referring to an area where reindeer have fed. Here, we can see the layers of snow and ice that the animals have broken through.

waiting game

Remnants of a carcass that we had retrieved, most likely the work of wolverines.

Dried reindeer heart – the best form of nourishment in the mountains.

Mikkel takes a break in between gathering up small herds as part of the spring migration.

Elle and Anne Marja with their dog Sieggis on a hike looking over Mortensness in Varangerfjord.