The Setup
It was December 9th, 1997 - the night my best friend Mats Björklund, former drummer of the Swedish hard rock band Aces High, turned 30. He was in Nyborg to visit his girlfriend, who also happened to be a close friend of mine. Naturally, we had to mark the occasion with a proper celebration.
And by "proper celebration," I mean: a bag full of beers, an impromptu plan, and a freight train bound for nowhere.
Waiting in the Cold
We started out with good intentions. Just a quick hop to Odense, 30 kilometers away. Easy, right? The snow was thick, the temperature sat at a crisp -15°C, and the station was practically deserted around 8 or 9 pm. But we weren’t bothered. The beer was cold (warmer than the air, oddly enough), and the thought of soon slipping into a warm train carriage kept us patient.
Except - no train came.
The Brilliantly Bad Idea
Back then, the bridge connecting Zealand and Funen hadn’t opened yet, so everything still depended on the ferries and old train schedules. As we debated heading back into town, a freight train rumbled in from the ferry, paused briefly at the station - likely coupling more wagons - and our frostbitten brains had a brilliant idea.
"Let’s hop it."
Onboard and Freezing
Now, don’t get me wrong - I grew up in the Arctic. I know how dangerous the cold is. Mats, though more of an urban survivalist, had guts. So we did it. Climbed on like a pair of half-drunk lunatics chasing warmth and adventure.
We found an open flat spot to sit on - still outside, mind you - and as soon as the train picked up speed, the cold hit like a punch. Our ‘cold’ beers were now warmer than the wind. We had to shout to hear each other. Mats had at least worn a long coat. I was in a short jacket and freezing fast.
The Pee Dilemma
Then I had to pee.
Now imagine trying to relieve yourself while hanging off a moving freight train in -15°C. I passed my beer to Mats, grabbed onto a metal handle, and started… only to realize we were at the front of a wagon - not the back - so everything just... blew back into our faces.
Classic.
Not Slowing Down
We laughed it off and figured we'd be in Odense in no time - 15 minutes, tops. But the train didn’t slow down.
It didn’t slow down for the next town.
Or the one after that.
It just kept going.
And that’s when worry set in. I remembered my father’s advice - never stand still in the cold. But here we were, glued to cold steel, unable to jump, and slowly freezing while sipping beers that only made the situation worse.
At some point, I whispered, “This thing’s going all the way to Germany.”
Rødekro - Almost Germany
It very nearly did.
After two and a half brutal hours, the train finally began to slow. We were just under 10 kilometers from the German border, in a little town called Rødekro. When it stopped, we jumped off - frozen stiff, but still buzzing from adrenaline.
Naturally, we opened another beer to celebrate.
The Dental Clinic
The town was dead silent. Stores were shut. Streets empty. Panic started to creep in. We tried a few doors as we walked - nothing. Until one business door opened. A dental clinic, of all places. Someone had forgotten to lock it.
We looked at each other. No words needed. It was pure survival.
We didn’t go inside the clinic itself, just curled up by the stairwell at the entrance, finishing the last of our beers. Eventually, we passed out. When we woke up, our heads were pounding - not just from the alcohol, but from the fresh paint fumes. Apparently, the place had just been repainted.
Morning Salvation
Dazed and fumy, we stumbled out into the cold morning and found Hotel Røde-kro. Someone was prepping breakfast. Between the two of us, we scraped together just enough cash for two coffees and a slice of bread. We sat, warming up slowly, wondering how on earth we’d get back.
Back Without a Ticket
Luckily, a train to Copenhagen was due.
Unluckily, we had no tickets.
Enter Mats, master of urban improvisation. As the conductor approached, he broke into fluent southern Swedish gibberish. When she turned to me, I joined in. Confused, she gave up and moved on. We rode all the way back to Odense in peace.
The Afterparty
Back in familiar territory, we met up with a friend who was ready to party - hard. And party we did. I honestly don’t remember much after that - just laughter, beer, and the kind of exhaustion only a 2.5-hour freight train freeze can gift you.
But hey - Mats turned 30 in style.
And we survived it. Barely.
Happy Birthday, brother.
And the wildest part?
Mats will be 60 in just two years. Time flies - but that train sure didn’t.