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Over Tjaktja

I made it 22 km to Alesjaure in the pouring rain. The wind had been blowing a mix of water and ice sideways all day.  I had passed my last trees in the valley long ago, so there was nothing to hide behind or under for a moment of reprieve. It was a relief to…
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Murder on the Orient Express

When I was a kid I loved Agatha Christie. I’m not sure why because while revisiting her works as an adult, I was shocked at all of the dark undertones that completely went over the head of the 13-year-old version of me. Regardless, her writing left a huge impression on me.  One of my favorites…
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