RUSH HOUR IN JOKKMOKK
We’re in fourth gear, full throttle, and the left bender is approaching ominously. Walls of ice zoom past my peripheral vision as I focus on the right turn-in point – some 100 meters before the actual bend. Get that one wrong, and 1,300 kilograms of metal and ape flesh hurtling forward at 120km/h will meet a very abrupt and painful end. I apply a quick left jerk to the steering and a good liftoff to give the front of the car some extra grip. As the machine rolls and changes direction, I do an “all-in” slam on the gas pedal and apply a full opposite lock. We’re now in full dynamic drift, doing some 200 meters worth of “Scandinavian ice-skating” all the way to the back straight of the frozen track, somewhere north of the Arctic Circle.
I wear a smile of an adolescent who just lost his virginity. Fred, the Swedish coach from Stig Blomqvist Driving School, on the other hand, sits next to me emotionless. You know, Swedish.
“Want to meet your childhood hero?” he asks as a matter of fact.
