Norwegians are sly mountain goats, don’t underestimate their vigor. The day after agreeing to a proposed seven hour hike beginning where most finish- at the top of the Fløibanen Funicular- I find myself crabbing down the west face of a mountain. Mercifully belaying down while holding on to a rope, I attempt to retain my composure. Living in Colorado, where hikes at 14,000 feet are a dime a dozen, I thought I would show my Couchsurfing host a contending view to how the worldview portrays Americans. Little did I expect to be passed by a blonde twice my age bouncing down a rocky slope that would be classified as a post-avalanche restricted area.
When someone in America suggests a hike, most would picture
pleasant walks down dirt trails through alpine forests. To most of us, hikes
are seen as a chance to slow down and find one's inner harmony through reconnecting to nature. In
Norway, they’re anticipating scaling steep climbs at unbelievably fast rates
across mountain peaks. Plural. (I
will attempt to attribute this to Norwegians’ having one of the
tallest average heights in the world.)
For miles all I could see were massive stone trail markers
lining the ridge and in the faint distance bodies of water. The bells of grazing sheep echoed in the distance, providing the only other noise besides the wind. The port town left long behind us, I felt as if I were on a mythical adventure through an
ancient land. (This was in part due to the Scandinavian folklore that resonates
through the culture. Towards the beginning of the hike, the forest is adorned
with carved wooden trolls and other such mystical creatures.)
Once on top of the mountain plateau, fog mysteriously rolled
in and disappeared as we gradually became absorbed into the clouds. My hands
were cold and moist, like they had been resting too long in grass on a dewy
morning. However, Thomas being a hefty 6’8”, was as overheated as an engine in
Mexico. Breaks constituted as a sip of water and a silent sigh. As we reached about the fifth hour, even my ankles were sore. Despite
even having a few marathons under my belt, I have never incountered such a peculiar and unexpected soreness.
Nearly famished, we put a spin on the traditional reindeer and juniper berry stew and enjoyed the midsummer sun finally setting at midnight.
If you go:
- Frequent daily trains run from Oslo to Bergen, While passing some of the best views in Norway, you can practically witness all four seasons.
- On the way back to Oslo, be sure to take a ride on the Flambana, one of the steepest and most beautiful trains in the world.
Vetrlidsalmenning 21
5014 Bergen, Norway
55 33 68 00
