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Except that I was driver, locomotive and guard on this particular train, and the only other living things listening in to my phone conversations were the wolves and the moose. For this railway line runs through the remote lakes and forests of Dalsland in West Sweden, where it plays host to a quirky, multi-modal transport experience that involves pedalling out and paddling home. The pedalling comes courtesy of a rail trolley - a sort of tricycle on rails - and the paddling is by Canadian canoe. This Daltrail rail/canoe combo is the creation of a jolly Swedish giant called John Brynteson, who also happens to be one-sixteenth Native American. It starts and finishes at Forsbackabaden, on the grassy shores of the southern end of Lake Kalven. Here, in what looks decidedly like a ranch from a cowboy movie, stands a giant teepee, an axe-hurling range, and a line of bicycle trolleys and canoes. The railway line runs through the back yard. John and I sat in the early morning sun, poring over his map. He took me through the essentials; the distances, the procedure at points and level crossings - and the key issue of the rendezvous, at a place called Kroppan, where he would meet me to swap my 'train' for a canoe. And then he warned me about the tunnel. It wasn't particularly long, he said, but in the event of someone coming the other way, I did need to stop, listen, and go 'woooo'. As it turned out my trolley was a delight to pedal, although it could have done with a few gears. With enough speed, I could get the wheels to go dum-diddle-ee, dum-diddle-aah, as all proper trains should do. Forest and lake flashed past, and 10km later I found myself at the mouth of the tunnel in question. Tunnels are all very well when you have a companion and a light, but in this case I had neither. Furthermore John had mentioned something about a restored diesel railcar taking to the track that evening, and suddenly I had a vision of one of those scenes from the Laurel and Hardy movies, where our happy heroes enter the tunnel on a plate-layers' trolley, and re-emerge pumping furiously, pursued by a train. Mindful of my instructions, I stopped, listened, and then accelerated, 'woo-wooing' rather pathetically as I went. It was cold, dark and scary, and I could see fluttering bats framed against the light at the other end of the tunnel - and then I was out in the sun again, and it was downhill all the way to Svanskog and the end of the line. The tunnel wasn't so bad on the way back. In Svanskog I'd had a light refreshment and made my very own station announcements, viz: 'The train now leaving platform two is the' - quick look at my watch - '12.02 canoe express.' And then I promptly derailed at the first set of points, just like British Rail. This time I didn't hang around at the tunnel mouth, but went for it, woo-wooing at full blast all the way through. It was quickly over - and just a few kilometres further I reached Kroppan, where John was waiting with the canoe. For the rest of the afternoon I paddled, hummed, rested and paddled some more, through a slowly-changing vista of blue water, blue sky, diving birds, islands and trees. The route back to Forsbackabaden lay through a 8km chain of lakes and narrows, and I had a gentle following wind which reduced the need to paddle to practically nil. The sun, reflecting off the water, threatened to give me a serious nautical tan and I caught an occasional glimpse of my railway line where it touched the lake edge. I knew there were wild animals amongst the birch and the pine, but I'm afraid I saw nothing. The water, however, was busy with diving birds, and so clear that I regularly glimpsed the tails of fish, fleeing under my keel. Half way back I had to do a portage - put the canoe on a set of wheels to haul it a short distance between one lake and the next - and for a while I felt I was truly on an expedition, on a real outback wilderness adventure. And then Daltrail's base camp hove into view, and the journey was done. My only regret was that it hadn't been longer - and that no-one had bothered to call my mobile phone. |