Ski and Paddle Norway 2009

Distance 15km | Time 7hrs | Ascent 400m | Descent 480m

I eventually set off after a great breakfast at 0930 and headed straight onto Bygdin lake to ski eastwards. I felt very good. I was well rested and well nourished. In addition it was almost perfect weather. The snow on Bygdin was quite deep though up to 20 cm and this slowed me down.

Initially I was going to go up the east side of a huge crag called Hoystakkane. However, this route was up a sheltered bowl where even more new snow might have blown. Instead I went up the west side following the ridge beside the stream bed. It was a bit steeper but the snow was much firmer and in many places the old snow from last week was still exposed. I think my gamble paid off as I got up to the higher hanging valley quite easily.

The weather was improving all the time but there was a bitter north breeze in the higher valley which cut straight through my leggings. It was a small price to pay for the views and clarity. Behind me the iconic Falketind, much loved by Vinje. In front of me Galdeberget, the final 2000 metre peak I did.

As I went along the flat valley more and more of the “gaints” appeared. Sjogholstind, Slettmarkpiggen, Slettmarkho, Svartdalspiggen lined each side of the valley. I was familiar with all of them and it was nostalgic to be back amongst them.

With little haste I went up the valley admiring the views until I got the the highest point by a knoll called Geitho. A bit beyond I had a fantastic view down to the frozen Gjende lake. Its white unblemished surface fringed by the dark birch woods. At the east end of the lake was the snow covered bulk of Bessho and just beyond the famous Besseggen arete.

This arete first became established in Norwegian culture in the 19 century when Henrik Ibsen included it in his story on Peer Gynt. In the story Peer Gynt rode a reindeer along the ridge before he fell off. Although just marginally exposed it has become something of a Norwegian rite-de-passage. Even though some 30,000 Norwegians a year traverse it poor old Peer Gynt is the only one who ever met his end on it.

The descent down to the lake was lovely. I had taken off my skins and I glided down through the deep powder to the upper limit of the birch forest. Here the terrain flattened a bit and I had to push one ski in front of the other. As the forest thickened so did the traces of Ptarmigan or willow grouse.

Soon the most majestic of all the mountains in this area, Store Knutsholstind, “a fine mountain for a lady”, showed its very lofty and steep pyramid shaped summit.

It was early dusk as I skied through the last of the birch trees to arrive at the cabin at Gjendebu. This place is normally a lodge but when the lodge is closed a self service cabin is made available.

The cabin was poorly equipped but had a stove, good larder and most remarkably a copy of my book. Getting wood however was a nightmare as I had to wade through many hundreds of metres of knee deep snow to get to the wood shed.

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After a good nights sleep I had a leisurely breakfast. It was overcast and snowing lightly outside so I did not feel too guilty about a rest day.

After breakfast I went up to the library in the lodge and immersed myself in many of the books up there including many new ones about Norwegian mountains which I had not seen yet.

Just after a simple lunch the weather improved and although overcast views appeared. I put my skis on and went for a small ski round the newly restored Eidsbugarden hotel and also to the culturally significant cabin built by Aasmund Vinje.

Vinje is a well known and respected political thinker and poet from them mid 19 century. He was born in humble circumstances but with the help of patrons and his own hunger to learn eventually graduated with a law degree and worked in the justice department.

Norway at this time was ruled by and indeed was part of Sweden. It had also have been subjected to Danish rule and cultural influence, especially the official language of Norway, called Riksmal.

Vinje belonged to a small but vociferous group of radicals who dident like these political and cultural foreign dominances. He made frequent protests and his rebellious stance earned him further patronage among patriotic but conservative Norwegians.

Vinje had spent considerable time in Oslo and forgot about the Norwegian countryside. However, on his way to a protest in Trondheim he encountered the mountain region of Rondane. For him it was a road to Damascus moment and it reawakened his childhood appreciation of nature.

He then spent a while looking for a perfect spot to appreciate this nature and eventually found a small spit of land at the west end of Bygdin lake. He borrowed some money from his patrons and built a small cabin he called Eidsbugarden on this deserted spot.

He spent a couple of summers here, the first with friends the second with the recent and only love of his life. During this period he wrote significant Norwegian poems. He wrote in Nynorsk, an amalgamation of Norwegian dialects which created a new language, aiming to distinguish itself from the Danish influenced Riksmal.

After a couple of years Vinje suffered a tragic loss when his only love died in childbirth and he passed away soon after with an illness probably encouraged by a broken heart.

The cabin was taken over by a patron called Thomas Heyfte who was the first leader of the Norwegian trekking association, now the DNT. Heyfte built the start of the current Eidsbugarden hotel around his cabin. Fondsbu lodge was part of this hotel until recently.

So Vinje, the respected nationalist, poet and political thinker had a very strong attachment to Eidsbugarden. So much so the place is associated with his ideals and cherished in current Norwegian culture, while Vinje is seen as one of the founding fathers of independent Norwegian culture.

After continuing my tour past some of the around 50 leisure cabins, their turf roof heavy with snow and drifts up to the windows I returned to the warmth of Fondsbu lodge.

Later in the afternoon I helped Solbjorg and the caretaker carry boxes of drinks and kitchen equipment around to prepare for the opening in a under a week.

The evening meal was another delicious affair with lots of stir fried vegetables. I needed the vitamins so that was extra good. Another bottle of red wine and further conversations about the history of Eidsbugarden and Norway in general rounded off a perfect rest day.

Tomorrow I would leave for Gjendebu cabin feeling well rested and nourished I still had a lingering cough but that is minor compared to how I felt when I arrived here at Fondsbu lodge.

Distance 26km | Time 9hrs | Ascent 220m | Descent 490m

It was snowing when I got up but the wind was negligible. The sight was quite poor as in addition to the snow it was misty. Before I left at 0930 I entered the location of Tyinstolen and Fondsbu lodge into the fiddly GPS.

There was a section where the maps I had of the 4 km between Slettningsbu and Tyinstolen did not overlap. But I thought it would be easy to follow the compass and GPS.

When I set off I did not feel in top form. I had an irritating cough and all my joints felt sore. I felt a bit weak also, as if I had some minor flu.

The visibility was a bad as ever on the knobbly terrain. I sometimes could not see the ground beyond my skis. I did not know if it was going up or down. In addition there was a lot of deep snow. Progress was very slow at about 1 km per hour.

At one stage when I was off the maps I was confronted by a craggy ridge which loomed out of the mist. I could not go over so decided to go south rather than north to skirt it. This decision led me to take a 3 km detour and instead of meeting the main road at Tyinstolen I reached it at the very southern end of the lake. An error that cost me at least 2 hours, maybe 3.

The chances of getting to Fondsbu lodge were fading rapidly and I would probably have to camp en route. I was also feeling weak and sore. It had been a bad morning. I should have stayed at Slettningsbu cabin and nursed my cold rather than flounder about the deep snow and mist wasting energy.

In hindsight I realized that going to Slettningsbu was a mistake. I should have gone from Sulebu to Tyinkrysset. A very easy day of 3 hours. And then from Tyinkrysset to Fondsbu lodge and very feasible day. Slettningsbu had cost me a day and masses of energy.

Just then my luck changed. I spoke to someone who was working on the endless building project and eyesore at the south end of Tyin. He said the lady who runs Fondsbu lodge was already there preparing to open in a week. I knew Solborg from the days when I was climbing all the 2000 meter peaks. We got on well. I gave here a ring with the last efforts of the battery.

No problem, be delighted to see you, the water for showers is hot, we are not open but you can eat with us. This was wonderful news. I was delighted. I still had 19 km to go and it was 1330 so I would arrive in the dark but there was a marked track and this had been compacted by snow scooters so was easy.

The 19 km took me up the entire east side of Tyin lake. It was a great shame it was poor weather as this was one of the best views in Jotunheimen. Especially towards the sharp pyramid of Uranostind, but also of Falketind.

It was a long ski indeed with very little to see except for the private leisure cabins which dotted the shoreline. Most of these cabins were very tasteful and looked very picturesque with their log walls and grass roofs.

I eventually reached Tyinholmen at the north end of the lake. It was dusk now but the moon was breaking through the mist and just shedding enough light. I was very tired though. Both Achilles were sore as were my hips. It would be another rest day tomorrow for sure whatever the weather.

I had a final 4 km to go over a small rise and descent to reach the lodge. From the top of the rise I could see the lights on. A welcome sight. At last I arrived. Solborg could not have been more helpful and I was soon in the shower. It was as much therapy as hygiene.

After the shower a supper which exceeded my expectations by far. Copious amounts of tender organic reindeer steak and heaps of fresh vegetables. All this washed down by a very complimentary Italian red. Solborg, the caretaker and myself then spent the rest of the evening chatting about many topics especially history. This was great because Solborg is a conservationist of the highest caliber with strong and wise opinions.

I eventually got to bed at midnight. My muscles and tendons still sore. It had been a very mixed day from the annoyance and despair of floundering about in the almost white out conditions making no progress, to the best evening of the year so far.

Distance 0km | Time 0hrs | Ascent 0m | Descent 0m

By the time I had done all my chores and written the blog last night it was after midnight. When daybreak came at 0800 I was still in bed. I was tired, especially my legs. I got up to have a look outside and to my disappointment it was a beautiful day again. No excuses then.

However the angel perched on one shoulder and who was egging me on to Fondsbu was quickly questioned by the devil perched on the other. You’re late, your legs are tired, your achilles are sore, some vertebrae are sore and your due a day off. It was a one sided debate and I returned to bed after throwing some more logs on the fire. I eventually got up at midday.

I don’t have any concerns as yet but the only problems I can foresee are lower back or my heels. I have to take a little bit of care of them. I can always get to Nordkinn a day or 2 late but with a ruptured achilles I won’t be going anywhere. Regarding my back I could revert to a sledge and sacrifice some kilometres every day.

When I did get up I cleaned out the ash from the fire and was amazed at how much more efficient it was without the extra ash clogging it up. Then I ate a few tins of meat and ham. I have lost a few kilos but am not too concerned about losing too much weight yet. I need some reserves for the north where supplies are infrequent.

I then spent the afternoon reading old walking magazines which this cabin has a copious supply and working out my route again to Roros. From Otta I think I will go through the heart of Rondane and then pass through Avdal Vestfjell and then through the north west corner of Femundsmarka and enter Roros from the south. It should take me a minimum of 15 days from here at Slettingsbu.

I only left the cabin once and that was to get another bag of wood from the outhouse. Sensibily the wood supplied to these cabins is silver birch, a wood with an enourmous heat to weight ratio, compared to say spruce. In addition the bark of birch contains a lot of tar so it is easy to light.

By the evening I felt well rested and even bored so will be eager to get off tomorrow to the next place which is Fondsbu lodge. I know it is closed and I am not sure if it has some self service facilities or if I will be camping.

I have enjoyed my leisure day a Slettingsbu cabin. It has been good for me to relax in its warm candle lit ambience.

From tomorrow my journey north will take a marked swing to the north east and to the town of Roros.

Distance 18km | Time 8hrs | Ascent 710m | Descent 680m

I was up late after yesterdays efforts. Today was a relatively short day and I felt no urgency. I was not really ready until 1100. It was far too late and I should have known better. Outside it was about minus 10 with snow showers, some mist and a slight breeze. I considered having a day off, but it was perfectly feasible to ski.

The way to Kyrkjestolen also looked like it was marked with twigs, which encouraged my confidence. So I set off. The visibility was poor and I was glad for the twig markers. How I had been spoilt over the last week with the spell of great weather.

The twigs did indeed go all the way to Kyrkestolen. This made being able to read the lie of the land much easier. Although some 30 meters apart they did indicate when the route was going up or down. Furthermore I was guaranteed it was a safe route. I followed the markers across the undulating tundra, which was almost indistinguishable from the sky. After a couple of hours the markers started to lead down to the birch forest in the valley below.

It was quite steep in places, and not being able to see the snow well I crashed once. Eventually the markers reached the valley floor where there was a collection of some 50 cabins, many of which were converted from old pastoral summer farms. There was also a small church. Through this hamlet went a major road, the main road between Oslo and Bergen. It was deserted now. This road has historical connections and was a road once travelled by royalty some centuries ago.

I crossed the snow covered road with my skis still on and paused for a break in the minor blizzard by the church to send/receive emails and blogs. I thought about camping here but it was only another 8 km and I still had 4 hours of daylight. So despite the weather I continued.

Initially I had to climb out of the north side of the valley. It was incredibly hard work. Under the surface of the deep snow were juniper bushes. As I pressed down the juniper bush collapsed and I made very slow progress. Indeed it took about two hours to ascend the short steep slope.

Once I was up to Slettningen lake things got easier, but it was difficult to see in the mild blizzard. With compass and GPS I slowly made my way across this lake and up the difficult featureless slope on the other side. I was running out of daylight the GPS still said I had 3 km to go. This would be another head torch finish.

I climbed a final ridge in the dark dusk and started to descent the other side. I went over a small cornice of luckily just 2 metres which I just had not seen before the torch came out of the pack.

The final 2 km took an hour and a half. It is a very surreal experience wandering about in the dark in a small blizzard in the middle of winter. My world was limited to about 3 meters and most of that is obscured by spindrift flashing in front of the bulb. I thought about camping a couple of times but my clothes were damp with sweat from the climb and my outer jacket was frozen stiff. Even my boots felt damp. All this would freeze solid and be somewhat unpleasant to get into tomorrow.

So I continued to the cabin homing in metre by metre, being cautious and slow. The thought of a fire and tins of peaches egging me on. Eventually after a few disorientating occasions I could make out the cabin some 100 metres away which the GPS confirmed.

When I got to it I had to dig a large drift from the front door. Inside it was minus 8. The previous occupiers had left kindling, newspaper and matches beside the fire. This used to always be the custom but I have seldom seen it this trip so far.

After an hour the cabin was warming and I was looking into the flames with a tin of peaches. It had been worth the humiliating fumbling around in the dark.

It had been a hard day. I was spoilt by the previous good weather and had left far too late. I should perhaps have had a day off but did not have the luxury hindsight when I set off.