The only sound as I slide along is the whoosh of metal blades on ice and the panting of the huskies. In every direction stretches a dazzling canvas of snow and pine with not a sign of habitation. We are intruders in this winterscape. Johan, the owner of the dog-sledding outfit, is our outrider, leading the way, surefooted as a deer as he careers ahead. Negotiating the bends between tree trunks at breakneck speed without the sleigh toppling brings shrieks of delight from the children. Three hours' flight away to the south the slopes of the Alps are crawling with humanity, but here in my native Norway we're far from that madding crowd.