The Cursed Norwegian Kicksled in Vadsø

A Norwegian Kickslead

Photo in courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Many years ago my mother became so fed up with everyone running off or stealing her way of winter transportation in the icy city of Vadsø, so she went ahead and placed a Norwegian reading and a curse on her kicksled, so that anyone that next to take it without explicit permission would feel the full wrath that she now instilled into its wooden frame.

It so happened that the next morning before she went to work, our one cousin Hilde was late for her own work, and, knowing the kicksled belonged to her favorite aunt, felt reassured she wouldn't mind in letting her borrow it because it was an emergency. 

Hilde, however, did not get far on the kicksled as she put it into the ice and headed down hill, it started shaking ferociously, and then sped up to full speed before it collapsed with my cousin Hilde ending up in the nearby ditch holding onto what was left of its wood handles. Hilde was not badly hurt, but she felt as if she was beaten up, with red and blue marks all over her body from first falling on the icy hill when the kicksled collapsed on her, and then from tumbling into the nearby ditch before it all ended. 

When my mother woke up and prepared for work, she noticed her kicksled missing again, and AGAIN was forced to walk to work. As she continued down hill, she could see a pair of uneven kicksled metal tracks that were split into two lanes as if the kicksled had been split in half. At the end of the hill where it turned, she could see the markings of someone that had tumbled and smeared the fresh morning snow, with the remains of kicksled shattered about the snow. She thought to herself, now looks like whoever took my spark did indeed feel the wrath I put upon it last night. Wonder who it was. 

Later in the evening, Hilde came over. I remember how she was still all scrunched up. Luckily, she had not broken anything from the tumble from her encounter with my mother's kicksled. Her first words were “Aunt edith, What did you do to your kicksled? I took it this morning to get to work fast, as I happened to be late after I overslept, and then it went all insane on me. It was like it was trying to cause me bitterly bodily harm which it also did as it caused me to end up in the ditch by the end of the hill.”

I still recall the stern look on my mother's face as she looked at my cousin Hilde, who was about 18 at the time, while I was still only a kid. “Now Hild, you know better than taking other people's property without asking permission. I was getting so tired with all the rascals in our neighborhood running off with my things so I had a curse placed on the kicksled to affect anyone who tried to use it without my permission.” 

My cousin Hilde sure learned her lesson and would always ask for explicit permission before borrowing anything from my mother again. 

Ghosts and Robbers - Protected by Spirit Ancestors

Illustration in courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

 Footprints in the melted snow slit and mud 

Photo by Juan R. Lascorz 

Sometime after my grandparents had passed away and the house was abandoned, our father received an urgent call from Old Arthur, a neighbor to the now old summer house. He reported seeing two people around the house, but they ran off before he had a chance to investigate, so he decided to let it go til morning. In the morning, when Arthur followed through with what he said. He found two sets of muddy footprints leading to the house and to a broken window, and more footprints inside the house. He also noticed a second set of footprints coming from another broken window. These were clearly showing sign of rapid  escape, so he called my father to check if anything was missing and broken. 

My father went to the house with one of my brothers, and Arthur joined them as they entered the house. As they walked into the living room, they saw how the intruders broke into the house from the large living room window and went into two directions, one set toward a two hundred year old fiddle hanging on the wall while, second set toward a different part of our living room where we kept a lot of ancient silverware. These two sets met in the middle of the living room, where we found the fiddle and our family heirloom silver bowls on the floor, and then both sets hastily toward the south side living room window and out. 

Two weeks later, two young men contacted us. They asked us if we were the owners of the home. They told us that ever since they had broken in our house, they have been plagued by haunting dreams, heinous nightmares. They felt that whatever still dwelt in our home was responsible. They pleaded us for forgiveness and offered to pay for any and all damages caused by them. We agreed and settled on not bringing any charges against them, as we felt they had learned their lesson. We never heard from or seen a sign of those guys again. Since then, nobody has ever broken in and entered in on our ancient family home. 

We will never know for sure what scared off the burglars in the way it did, but we have our own suspicions. Our house has always been very haunted, with our ancestral spirits protecting us, and even with us around when my grandparents were still living there, the spirits would show their power whenever they found a new guest to the home to be unwelcome or just kept for closer observation to assess whether they should be told to leave or not. 

Since that time, our family home has been sold twice. Each time the new owners complain of the house being haunted . Cold spots, hearing voices and, things moving from one place to another. So, my uncle bought the house back and it is now back in my family. I guess that is where it belongs.