Since 2009, Walter Hoogerbeets has been making long trips by bike. Usually on his own, and ideally cycling in Norway. He writes stories about these trips on fietsersafstappen.nl (in Dutch). Walter is a big source of inspiration for me, so I think it’s extra awesome that he wrote this guest blog for Lost in Norvana.
You can find the full story of his latest Scandinavian cycling adventure here.
Cycling to Norway
“Mountains appeared on the horizon. I couldn’t tell whether they were already Norwegian mountains, but the border had to be somewhere over there. Today I would reach Norway. The mountains rose higher above the horizon. More and more often I had to shift with the front derailleur. The land of fjords and wild mountains was already announcing itself here.
And then a long descent begins, with hardly any bends. My speed rises until I can’t pedal along anymore. There’s a village, signs about tolls and customs, and as it sinks in that this must be the border, the surroundings change. Drastically.
The tundra is gone. I’m now riding through a friendly valley with trees in full leaf, green meadows, farms of red-painted wood and a wide river with sandy banks.
It’s the third time I’ve crossed the border into Norway by bike, and once again the transition is abrupt. Normally countries blend into each other gradually, however hard nationalists wave flags, slogans and weapons to deny it. But with Norway, there really is a border baked into the landscape.”
Come rain or shine
That’s what I wrote about cycling into Norway from Finland this summer. It was the fifth time I’d cycled in Norway, and the eighth time I’d visited the country. I knew what was waiting for me. I knew the landscape. And yet I was overwhelmed by emotion when the moment came. Norway is as unique as it is breathtaking.
And Norway is a magnificent country for cycling. Quiet, mostly well-maintained roads through beautiful landscapes. Friendly people who all love sports. Safe and with excellent facilities.
It just isn’t exactly a cycling country for beginners. You pay a price for all that beauty. The mountains are tough, and the weather can really work against you. Cold, rain and brutally strong wind can hit you in summer too. And Norway is big. The distances are long; there are days when you cycle a hundred kilometers before you can get a coffee anywhere. Last summer I cycled along a lake near Oslo and did get a bit nervous when there turned out to be nowhere to spend the night for seventy kilometers.
For sporty cyclists, that only makes it more attractive. A tough climb or a good fight with the wind, I love it. I also like those long distances: pedaling on and on at the same level of effort, instead of being thrown out of my rhythm every hour by the next town I have to ride through. And it never gets boring. No two fjords are the same, and every mountain pass is beautiful.
Only for die-hards?
Does this mean that as a beginner you’d better not go cycling in Norway at all? Not necessarily. You really don’t have to cycle the whole length of this country or seek out the roughest mountain passes. You can also put your bike on the train to an area where it’s less tough and the distances aren’t as great. The Lofoten Islands are a good example. Gentle climbs, lots of facilities, and what a magnificent landscape it is.
But even if you choose the beautiful train journey from Oslo to Bodø to cycle around the Lofoten Islands at your leisure, training and good preparation are still useful. You still need to know how to get up a slope, even if it isn’t long. And how to get back down safely. Your gear will need attention too; a rain cape won’t get you through a typical Lofoten downpour.
Big trips
Big trips obviously ask more of you. Especially if you go to the far North, where few people live. You then have to be mentally and physically up to long distances in conditions that aren’t always easy. The climbing makes this even harder; in Sweden and Finland you can usually get by with patient pedaling, but in Norway you have to take on those mountains.
Personally, I find the Norwegian mountains tougher than the Alps or the Ardennes. The climbs usually aren’t that long, but they’re often steep, rarely constant, and they go on all day. It’s never just up, down and done. After every climb comes another one, and when you think you’ve almost reached your destination, there’s always yet another little hump. For which you invariably have to shift with your front derailleur.
“In Norway, you’re only done climbing when you’re standing on the sun deck of the boat to Kiel,” I wrote this summer, and it turned out to be true right up to the last hour of the Norwegian part of that trip.
And then there’s the weather. Yes, it can work against you. You can have a week with hours of rain every day. The wind can be strong, gusty and freezing cold. It can be warm and sunny; there’s a photo of me at the Arctic Circle in summer clothes. But there’s no guarantee whatsoever. Few things are as changeable as the weather in Norway.
Preparation
Long distances, endless climbing and rough weather. Norway, in all her beauty, is a formidable opponent for the adventurous cyclist. You need to prepare well and choose the right gear.
I do that myself by riding a recumbent bike, which simply makes the kilometers come more easily, especially with wind and mountains. I also keep my gear light by paying attention to what I buy and not bringing any nonsense. I’ve written about this in detail on my own blog, so I won’t repeat it here. I pay close attention to how weatherproof my clothing is and test it by training in winter. After all, in the North you can need winter cycling clothes and thick gloves in August.
You’ll have to train for the climbing. Before my first big trip, along the coast to the North Cape, my only climbing experience was in the Ardennes, and looking back, that was meager. For a long trip, I’d advise training at least once in the Black Forest or the Vosges.
Your route needs attention too. Norway has lots of tunnels, and as a cyclist you’re not always allowed through them. Sometimes roads dead-end in a valley after 30 kilometers, without a mountain pass. And then there are the ferries. Some leave every hour all year round, but there are also ones that only sail in high season, or have a different schedule every day of the week. Look into these things in advance, or you may be in for some unpleasant and time-consuming surprises. A very handy tool for this is the online map of Norwegian tunnels.
After the hardship comes the enjoyment
But don’t let this scare you off. The hardship is always temporary. Rough weather rarely lasts long, and afterwards it can easily be sunny and warm for days. And the facilities are very good. When you pitch your tent at a campsite at the end of the day, there’s usually a heated kitchen where you can cook and eat at your leisure with a solid roof over your head. And otherwise there’s often a cabin for rent.
Few things are as satisfying as eating your pasta at a table in a cozy cabin after a long, tough day of cycling. I once read somewhere that the human brain is programmed so that we only truly enjoy things after a serious effort. How scientific that is, I don’t know. But for cycling in Norway, it’s definitely true. Every story is about a hefty athletic effort that’s rewarded with beautiful nature, dreamy views and peaceful little campsites. As long as my legs keep working, I’ll keep cycling there.
Personal travel advice
Would you like help putting together your dream trip to and through Norway? Or would you rather hand over the organizing of your trip completely? Get in touch with me and soon you, too, will be Lost in Norvana!
Would you rather cycle to Norway? Then Walter’s your man. 😉
