The Northern Soul

Photography by Padraig Croke

What does it mean to run a homestead in today's modern world? Endless distractions and screens have the potential to dominate our time and our attention, and there are expectations on us all to progress in our careers and to constantly hustle to make more money. But the modernities of our time can also be used to our advantage. Is it possible to live off the land — to live a life of freedom and self-reliance — and still be connected to the world at large? I spent some time with Jeremias and Hannah, who run a homestead and a dog sledding company called Northern Soul Journeys in Sweden, to see how they balance their lives and livelihood.

Eighty kilometres below the Polar Circle in the tiny village of Ängesträsk, Sweden, the snow is teasing us in the clouds above. It’s about 8am on a bitingly cold February morning. ‘The poop doesn’t go away when there’s snow over it. In the spring time when it melts, all that bacteria is still gonna be there. So we try our hardest to pick up all the poop …’ Hannah walks around the yard with a dustpan and scraper, head down in concentration on the morning task of cleaning up after 23 Alaskan huskies.

Life in the Arctic is not glamorous. It’s a daily routine of hard work, planning and taking care of your animals. But, occasionally, it seems appropriate to stop and appreciate what a unique and beautiful lifestyle you’ve managed to carve for yourself in a complex and bustling world. ‘If we have the luxury, we can just sit down and enjoy the morning … The quietness of living the way we do is just as important.’ The modern world seems a million miles from where I stand, in the yard of Jeremias’ and Hannah’s (J&H) homestead, as the wind blows chunks of snow from the trees around me and the dogs huff and bark, bidding for my attention. Later today, we are going for a sledding tour across the frozen lake of Fällträsket with two teams of dogs. Guests are few and far between this season due to the global crisis that we’re all suffering through, but the dogs still need to run. When your company's main commodity is a pack of sled dogs, work doesn't stop just because the store is closed. It’s a job that you don’t get to clock out from at the end of the day, and J&H seem to like it that way.

I was a graphic designer for 10 years in Dublin, Ireland. It may sound like a cliché, but it seemed to me that the only way to get by in modern society was to work until you earned enough money to own that apartment and that car. It wasn’t until I got deeper into the world of outdoor pursuits that I realised it didn’t have to be that way. A year ago, I packed up almost everything I owned, sold the rest, and moved to Sweden to work at a canoe centre and live in a small cabin by Lake Immeln. So, naturally I was enamoured by the lifestyle that J&H have made for themselves. Here is a couple, the same age as me, who are carving a wholesome and purposeful life for themselves, away from that ladder I had been chained to for so many years. I was under no illusions, though. The romanticism of this Thoreau-esque lifestyle is not easily won. It is hard work and rife with vet bills and other unexpected monthly costs.

What you need up here is the ability to adapt to circumstances, and a strong dose of creative thinking. In our modern society it’s still possible to set the pace of your own life — more so than ever, arguably. With access to high-speed internet connections, and the birth of a new generation creating multifaceted passive incomes for themselves, we can now look to alternatives beyond the 9-5 that our parents and grandparents relied upon. J&H are modern homesteaders by all accounts, using social media and an active online presence to their advantage. They run a beautiful YouTube channel documenting their adventures, and post daily updates on their Instagram page. But it doesn’t control their day. These are the tools that bring customers in, and allow them to live the way they want to.

Aside from the means to earn an income, and combining that with the ability to live the way they wish, I really wanted to know what it was like to truly rely on these amazing animals. Man's best friend has, for millennia, worked in the fields, forests and deserts of our ancestors. Dog sledding in Sweden is somewhat of a modern invention. The Sami people of this area did rely on them historically, but not to the extent that is assumed. They were mainly used for hunting and herding, and not as a mode of transport. Today, dog sledding is one of the biggest tourist attractions in Lapland, an area spanning across the northern part of Norway, Sweden, Finland and parts of Russia.

One of the challenges of relying on dogs is the fact that they are animals with their own personalities, which need to be nurtured and respected. Jeremias tells me that it’s almost like having to organise a dinner party. You know that person A doesn't like person B, so you can't sit them next to each other. Some dogs will work better with others, too. And that’s all before you take into consideration the individual bonds you have with each of them in order for them to trust you and work with you. ‘You need to have a very strong bond with them to make sure sure that everyone is doing OK and having fun. You need to have that bond, and spend the time and put the hours in. When you’re working and you feel like you’re doing it as a team — going out for 40 or 50 kilometres and it’s not an effort — that’s very rewarding.’

Across the frozen lakes at this time of the year there is still a thick blanket of snow on the ice, insulating it and keeping it frozen solid. If you step off the trail you will quickly sink into snow up to your waist. But the tracks around here are cared for by the communities who regularly flatten them for use as snowmobile trails. And so we drift peacefully and silently while the dogs work hard, ploughing on with their relentlessly powerful strides. It’s a magical feeling, and it’s not long before you find your mind wandering. Jeremias is behind me, standing with a foot on each side of the sled, always slightly hovering over the foot brake in case we need to slow down or stop. The dogs will not stop if you fall off, so it’s important to always keep a firm hold of the sled as you move. ‘The first rule of dog sledding is Don’t let go of your sled … The second rule is Don’t let go of your sled’, Hannah jokes.

As dusk teases in the western sky, we stop to make some coffee. High on a hill peppered with trees that look like meringue-covered desserts, the mountains of Norrland are all around us. This land is hard and cold and unforgiving. But the dogs thrive in it. They can work in temperatures as low as -50 °C — not something I’d ever want to experience, personally. Today is a crisp -18. We dig a niche in the snow for ourselves and get a small fire going to boil up some coffee and take in the view. The dogs nap sitting up or lying down, but they will soon get restless. They simply want to run. ‘What I love most about owning the dogs is having an animal that works. I really like this symbiotic relationship where we’re giving each other something, rather than it just being an animal that has no “purpose”.’ It seems to me as an outsider to be the most primordial and organic of relationships that I’ve experienced.

It’s pitch black by the time we get back to the homestead. With the floodlights illuminating the yard, I do what I can to help unpack the sleds and get the dogs back to their kennels. The warmth of the wood burner is welcomed when we finally get inside, and I’m told that we will have a dinner of moose meat burgers. The meals’ ingredients have been, for the most part, made by J&H at home. Everything from the meat used in the burgers to the bread for the buns, and the vegetables on the side, has been hunted or harvested at home. It sparked an interesting talking point. ‘To be fully sustainable you have to have discipline, and a ton of plants! Right now we have neither — we’re just having fun trying to offset our food costs a little bit … It’s a whole different beast trying to be completely self-sustainable.’ I like the fact that, although they are not completely self-sustainable, they can use modern comforts to supplement their lifestyle, rather than allowing it to dictate. ‘Since we’re living in the times that we live, we’re just doing this for the fun of it, and for the enjoyment of being able to produce our own food and live close to the land. But we don’t necessarily need to. There’s nothing in society that says “OK, you need to grow your own potatoes”... So we also need to be a little bit humble, and nice to ourselves. It’s OK to go and buy a bag of carrots because we didn’t have enough.’

Whether they are 100% self-sustaining or not, I suppose, is besides the point. Just to have the luxury and the lifestyle to employ your own hard work and effort, and to see the tangible results on the table, is a win to me. This choice means that nothing is mindlessly consumed without knowing or understanding where it came from, or what it took to produce it. Working with the seasons is a pivotal element of the homestead. In the spring and summer, J&H prepare for the winter. As soon as winter is over, it’s time to start planning for the following year, and the tasks involved in each season are as varied and important as the next. ‘There’s a sort of ebb and flow of everything’, Hannah tells me. ‘And not to sound too hippy-dippy or anything, but I really like being connected to the land. I feel like when you’re not trying to fight the land all the time, you’re not trying to fight the elements … but instead you’re trying to work with them. Then you can get this great appreciation for all the work that you’ve put into it; utilising the different seasons and what they offer to you, so you can live in the area that you are in.’

We stay up a little longer drinking gin and talking by the fire, debriefing on the day's events and about the history of the land and the people who have lived here for so many generations. I can’t help but think about how harsh this place must have been to live in, before all the modern conveniences of our time. I went into this expecting to be transported into the past. But it’s not the case. Yes, things are definitely not as convenient up here. If you want something, you have to work for it. But there’s something beautiful in that, too. I ask J&H if they see themselves here forever, and if they want to expand their business. ‘We talk about our future every now and then, and nothing is ever set in stone. We don’t see ourselves ever not having dogs, and we do not want to grow the business any larger. That’s not really in our nature to chase those higher numbers. Our holistic goal is to be able to spend time at home together and with our dogs. Being out in the forest, being out on the water, paddling, hiking, hunting, fishing — all the things that we really appreciate and connect us to the land — that’s our future goal.’

Padraig filmed a documentary with Jeremias and Hannah, which you can watch below from his YouTube channel. He also recorded an in-depth conversation with them for his podcast, Trial by Fire.