Norway- August 2014 (#1/13)

I made it safe and sound! My bike however, did not. Hopefully it will be on the next plane to Oslo. I was assured that it will be here in one or two days at the most. In the meantime that means I don't get to change my socks. I realized as soon as I sat down on the plane that they don't feed you...for NINE HOURS. I tried my best to swallow the cranky angry hungry side of me as I waited for my bike.
Finally I gave up on the waiting, grabbed a $15 sandwich the size of a twinkie, and walked to my hotel.I am staying at the ever so lovely Ellingsens Pensjonat for 500kr per night. A little narrow, but clean comfortable, and the best patio around. Off to explore the city!

My bike caught up with me and Oslo wore me out #2/13

6 August 2014
Ten hours of sleep and I was ready to tackle Oslo. You can buy an Oslo pass for 300kr that will give you access to almost all the museums in the area. I woke up at 6am only to realize that I had 3 hours to kill. I made my plan for the day over my SEVEN dollar americano. If I find cheap food in Norway I will eat until I can't move.
I took the ferry over to the Viking ship museum where they have three ships housed in a tall airy building. All the ships were found in burial mounds and date back to about 800AD.

The best preserved ship was intricately carved with figures and patterns on the bow and stern. Each piece was disassembled, steamed and pressed into its original shape, and then reassembled. 90% of the ship is original wood and metal. All 3 ships in the museum were buried with food, oxen, jewelry, rich fabrics, wagons, and sleighs. Not much is known about the vikings whonwete buried other than the two skeletons in the main ship were women and most have been very important people.

Next up, the folk museum. Throughout the site there were replicas of Norwegian homesteads from around the country. Many of the buildings were from the 1700 and 1800's and showed the different styles used in different areas.

The stave church was beautifully carved and painted on the inside and set on top of a little bluff. Throughout the museum there were people dressed in period clothes... Like a Renaissance fair.

Onto the Fram museum, where they have two polar explorer ships housed in the museum. The From was built in the shape of an egg with a rounded oval hull to withstand the crushing polar ice. It went on two polar explorations both to the north and south poles. You can walk all over, in, and down into the ship. The cabins are cramped and each expedition lasted over 3 years.
The Gjoa, pictured with polar bears was the first ship to negotiate the northwest passage. The trip took fours years and the crew had to be tougher than anyone can sanely be.

After a lunch of duck flavored top ramen and cookies, I needed a change of pace from museums. I took the metro out to Holmenkollen and checked out the Olympic ski jump. It looks like a dinosaur neck reaching out of the hillside. As you walk up to the lift you pass exhibits explaining what snow is, what skis are, and actually impressive- wooden skis dating back to 900AD.

The views from the top were dizzyingly beautiful. I cannot imagine letting go and launching off of the jump. Even sitting on the high bleachers would make you want to hang on to something.
The view looking over Oslo and the fjords made norway look relatively flat... I was going to keep kidding myself for one more day. I took the metro back to my hotel and was thrilled to find the my bike had finally caught up to me.After two days of me stomping around, the airline had delivered my bike to the hotel. Everything made it, including the additional of an electric shaving kit complete with nose hair trimmer. I am constantly left wondering what happens in customs.

The Lofoten Islands #3/13

From Oslo I traveled 18 hours north by train and 3 hours north by ferry to land in Moskenes on the Lofoten Islands. Everywhere you look is a postcard picture. The islands used to be supported by cod fishing but tourism now helps the economy quite a bit.

For the train ride I bought bread, cheese, and cookies. I didn't realize that I bought stinky cheese. Every time I opened my bag the strong odor of stinky feet and baf gas permeated the train. I started to feel really bad for all the other passengers so I limited myself to granola bars and waited until ibwad out on the deck of the ferry before I ate a sandwich.

The town of Reins was the reason that I really wanted to come up here, but so many places along the way were just as beautiful. I didn't expect the white sandy beaches. When the sun shines on the water it turns a brilliant turquoise and looks more like Greece than somewhere in the arctic circle. I had to kick off my shoes and run around on the beach. The water was cold, but when else will I be able to put my feet in the arctic ocean? 

I sat on the beach and ate a stinky cheese sandwich. I admit, it was getting a little boring, but Norway is not a place I am going to waste food. I camped on a bluff overlooking the ocean and was asleep at 7pm. All the travel and lack of sleep had finally caught up with me and I found myself with a head full of snot and feeling crappy. I don't know why it is called a cold when it should be called the "I think I may die disease." 

I woke up at 3am to... Sunshine! After twiddling my thumbs for 2 hours I decided to get on my bike. The roads were fairly flat, the temps were perfect, and I felt my head cold slightly lift the more I cycled on. I pedaled through my first tunnel that went under a fjord. First I would add a few layers because the tunnels are desperately cold, then there is an exhilarating descent in the semi darkness followed by a grunting huffing slog back up the other side and into the blinding light.

I found a beautiful place to camp in a peat bog underneath a waterfall. It was so soft that I didn't use a sleeping pad. U wouldn't have even put my tent up but after I sat down I saw thousands of spider webs. I settled down to a dinner of pasta and stinky cheese, thank god the last of it. When I woke up the next morning I felt better than ever and set out again.

The next day was an exercise in finding water and food. I ended up drinking out if streams and taking water from motorcyclists, but I could only find food at gas stations. They do however, have the most amazing hamburdets dropping with grease and covered with bacon for only $20. I have a theory that small town Norwegians do not exsist between the hours of 6pm and 9am.

Finally, day 3 of cycling, I made it to a grocery store that was open and bought my first beer! Ahhhh, the relief. I made it to Narvik soon after to find out that 1. I smell, and 2. I have only two more days until I am back in Bodo where I got off the train. 

Narvik to Trondheim #4/13

 While some of the biking is terrifying (narrow roads with cliffs and large fast moving semi trucks) some places have bike paths that stretch on for miles and miles. I keep expecting the views to be getting more boring as I get farther from the Lofoten Islands, but the mountains are even more grand as I go on. There are picnic tables that magically appear on the side of the road, usually about the time when my butt goes numb and it is the perfect excuse to stop.

 After three days of gas station food, I finally found a grocery store and was thrilled to find beer for only $4 a bottle. A loaf of bread and a jar of nutella and lunch was served.

The main highway, the E6,  connects with ferry crossings in some places. On one ferry another biker, Stijn (pronounced Stiene) came up and thrust his hand out introducing himself. Since we were going the same direction we decided to stay together. He was on holiday from university in the Netherlands, very cute, and very young. He was the first person I had talked to for more than a week and I was thrilled to have company.

 We stopped at every lake we passed so he could fish and I could eat more nutella. My norwegian pronounciation had him practically falling off his bike and i would hear him repeating things i butchered and giggling as he biked along behind me. We had been biking for about the same amount of time and I asked if his butt was sore from days in the saddle. He looked at me and said, " no... I have no butt problems."

 I felt like we were biking tbrough 10 yosemite valleys one after another. The mountains jutted up in broad sweeping slabs and shear cliffs. After a massive hill climb we camped at a lake high in the mountains. Stijn never caught a fish but he went swimming and I finally washed my hair. We gorged ourselves on wild blueberries, had a campfire, and stayed up till two in the morning.

 The next day there were a lot of hills and I had to catch a train to Trondheim, so we hugged goodbye, wished each other a good safe trip, and I pushed on alone.

With my cold gone except for a stuffy nose, I found myself blowing snot rockets regularly. I was pretty good at them except when I was not. Like when the wind gusted and I managed to blow a dangler directly into my freshly washed hair. Or when I didn't have enough umph behind one and it slapped back across my check forcing me to jump off my bike and rub my face on the grass in disgust.

In an effort to pack more in, I decided to take the train from Fauske to Trondheim and save myself 800km of biking. Unfortunately this means I have to plan ahead. If you buy your train ticket at leat a day in advance it costs at least a quarter of the regular ticket price. I did make the train with a couple hours to spare. I didn't however find a place to shower. It is amazing how you can convince yourself that you don't smell that bad after having camped out for over a week only to realize that when you have to sit in close confines with other people on an overnight train, that you are in fact the smelly kid.

And in the morning I arrived in Trondheim.

Trondheim to kristiansund #5/13

 Nidaros cathedral, the holiest place in Norway and the end of st Olav's pilgrimage was beautiful and huge. But the fish houses on the edges of the downtown were my favorite.

 I stopped for a lunch of fishcakes and beer at a little cafe and started talking to a man who looked like Varys in the Game of Thrones. Before I knew it he had bought me 2 more beers and I was loving Norway. He quoted philosophers and said statements like "there are no problems, only solutions." But it was wonderful to have someone to talk to for the afternoon. When he suggested that we share a bottle of white wine and a shrimp dinner, I knew I should be moving on. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and thanked him for the afternoon. He returned my kiss with a rather slimy one on the side of my neck. After a week of hard biking and no shower it had to be rather foul!

 I biked along bike paths and small roads and found a beautiful place to camp for the night on the side of a fjord on a grassy flat spot. The sunlight was giving everything a golden glow and fell asleep feeling content and happy. At 2:40am, I woke up to the sound of water gently lapping... About 6 inches away from the door to my tent! The tide was rising and I was in danger of being cut off from the road as the water rose over the grassy bench. I packed up my things in record time and barely made it up onto the highway. I found a grassy driveway to fall asleep on until a normal morning hour.

 The ferries that run in between islands and across fjords are fast and easy. I prefer them to the tunnels that drop under water. I had a big one to go through this morning, 5km with an 8% grade down and up. When I got to the other side there was a huge line of cars and red lights flashing saying that the tunnel was closed. I told the first few cars that I didn't know why because it had been clear the whole way. A man looked at me and said "it closed because of you, bicycles are forbidden." CRAP! I had to bike uphill past every single one of those cars as they shook their fingers at me

When I stopped at the tourist office in Kristiansund the lady at the desk said that normally when bikes go through the tunnels they call the police to pick them up, and that the last time  it happened the newspaper got there first and the biker had their picture on the front page! Fortunally I made it through without all that, but when the tourist lady checked the news, they had a write up about a "cyclist" going through the tunnel and closing down this morning. Oops.

 Now I am waiting for a bus that will take me 4km through a tunnel that is also closed to bikes so that I can bike the North Atlantic Highway, one of the best cycling routes in Norway that is inaccessible by bicycle.

Both kristiansund and Molds, the next big town I come to, are known for their rose gardens and the streets are lined with them. When creepy bar guy from Trondheim asked me why I chose to come to Norway, I replied without hesitation, "because it is beautiful." So everyday I get to bike through the mountains and coastlines and there is something so nice to realize that it can truely be that simple.

Kristiansund to Isfjiorden #6/13

 The Atlantic Road is supposedly one of the best roads to bike in the country and one of the reasons I wanted to go to norway.  I had to take a $12 bus ride to get to the start of it! Once I was on the other side of the tunnel, the bus driver let me off and for the next 30km I threaded my way across bridges and over wind scoured islands as I made my way to the bridge I had been itching to bike over for months.

 It is much more impressive in person, I assure you. From here there is nothing but open ocean to the west. Norway is one of the most sparsly populated countries, but in the loneliest reaches of the outer islands there always seems to be a house or a cabin accessible only by rowing a boat from the mainland.

 As I made my way back inland, I passed farm after farm harvesting hay. This made it harder to find a quiet field to camp in, but it also meant there were strapping young norweigian farm boys everywhere you looked. I biked slowly that day.

In many of the fields you would see the plucky little Norwegian fjord horses. Half draft horse and half pony these thick necked stocky horses were used to plow the fields before tractors came along. The other thing you see are ticks. They are tiny though, about the size of a pencil point and somehow that made them seem a little less nasty when I plucked them off my ankles.

 The next day I felt like I was in a Norway postcard. I biked along fjords most of the day. When the sun would break through it was so beautiful that was amazed no one drove off the road.

 I found myself smiling like a goon the whole evening as I rounded each corner and was met with yet another stunning vantage point. I got lost only once and of course the person that I asked for help didn't speak a word of English. When I pulled out my map to ask if I had taken the right turn, he shook his head, can't read a thing without glasses. But charades are an amazing thing and I headed off the right way.

I found a place to camp next to Isfjiorden and went to sleep early. Tomorrow is Trollstigen, a steep switchbackimg road that seemed like a good idea to bike up when I was sitting on the couch. "Good luck, you'll need it!" Someone told me when I explained where I was off to next.

Andalsnes to Greiranger #7/13

Trollstigen, or the troll's ladder is a 12% grade climb up a steep valley. If you want to feel like a cycling rock star, I highly suggest biking up. Tour buses full of people take pictures and cheer as you huff and puff your way past. At the top, people shake their heads on disbelief and tell you that you are amazing and strong and all sorts of things to make your head swell. 

 The ride itself is spectacular. You Climb so far so fast that you reach the top before you know it. Once there, the visitor center is full of food, beer, and the Norwegian afternoon treat of waffles with sour cream and jam. When I was in line to buy my snacks the cashier asked if the man in front of me and I were together, he replied to her with a wink, "Not yet!" And left me smiling for the rest of the afternoon.

Continuing on the road climbs through a valley of high peaks, waterfalls, and glaciers. The landscape is so beautiful that I am amazed people don't drive right off the road. I nearly did more times than I'd like to say!

 A quick ferry ride across a fjord followed by a climb and I was ready to camp for the night.

I stayed at a great stop/ picnic area along with a few camper vans. It poured down rain all night and into the next morning. Mustering the motivation to crawl out of my tent took a fair amount of time, but the camper next to me quickly invited me in for coffee.

A German family from Bavaria gave me the perfect opportunity to procrastinate the bike ride down. I told them about Leavenworth and the Bavarian theme and had them rolling with laughter. They offered to drive me into Geiranger, but a glutton for misery, I decided to ride. Down a 10% grade for 5 miles in the POURING rain took me to Geiranger fjord, probably the most photographed fjord in Norway.

I decided to take a break from camping for the first time in two weeks and find a cabin or a room for the night and hopefully wait out the rain.

Up, Up, and Away to Lom and back to the Fjords #8/13

I left Geiranger on a rainy mornin , planning on biking at least up the the next rest area. Foetunatly the weather mostly cleared and I decided to press up, and up, and still up. I ended up doing a 17km climb up a 10% grade that put me on the top of a beautiful but very cold plateau.

 True to Norwegian style, in the most desolate areas you will find mountain cabins, in this case, chained to the rocks that they wee built on. The road is only open May to September and often gets 12 feet of snow! At the summit there was a hotel which gave MW a chance to drink a beer and a coffee and dry my cold toes on the heater.

 The way down drops gradually down to Lom, a town full of sod roofed wooden buildings and a beautiful stave church.

 I camped a little ways out of town and read my guide book. Without knowing, I had chosen the Sognefjellet road. My book described it as the highest road in western Europe rising to 1434m (4700 ft) "should only be undertaken by the highly fit and experienced cyclist with perfect brakes." This made me a little nervous sin e I had a fully loaded bike and my brakes were held together at this point with a piece of scrap metal and electrical tape. Nonetheless, as the road was suppose to be one of the most beautiful cycling routes in the world, I figured I couldn't miss out.
The next day I had the most breathtakingly beautiful bike rides of my life. Worth every pedal stroke.

 Sheep dotted the high alpine meadows and in the spring and winter wild reindeer roam the plateau.

 The high point on the road gives access to the Jostedalsbreen Glacier, the largest in Europe.

 On tourist routes there are many sculptures that are suppose to highlight the landscape. Mostly they look modern and out of place, but I thought this one was neat because you could climb all over it.

 The ride down off the plateau I was a bit worried about. I had biked down plenty of super steep brake squealing dexents but none had elocotwd any words of caution. My fears were ungrounded and the 8-10% downhill grade was magnificent! There were long flat stretches to take in the view and the road plunged from the plateau down to sea level in just six miles. I was grinning like a goon the whole way down.

I had thought to camp on the plateau, but the elevation made the wind bitterly cold. There had been spotty showers throughout the day so I decided not to risk a cold wet night. Instead I found an amazing campsite set on a grassy bluff over a brilliant glacial blue lake with a waterfall for a view. I was giddy from my good luck and slept like a log.