ScandoRando

TRAVELING 350 KILOMETERS AND 10,000+ METERS IN ELEVATION IN JUST TWO DAYS

WRITTEN & PHOTOGRAPHED BY MARIUS NILSEN

Day 1: Woken up by the sound of a freight train passing, I look at my watch—it’s 5:15 in the morning. I’ve only slept for three hours, but it’s time to get up. Traveling by train the night before, we arrived at 2:00 a.m. and had snuck into the station’s waiting room to catch a few hours of sleep before embarking on yet another epic rando trip. My usual travel companion, Christian, still sleeps like a baby. He always does—whether we’re in a roundabout in rural France, in a parking lot in the Swiss Alps, or in this case, on the tiled floor of the Dombås Station in Gudbrandsdal, Norway. At dawn, after a quick breakfast of fruit and sandwiches, we head out to see the sun rising above the surrounding peaks.

Leaving the solid tarmac of the wide u-shaped valley behind, we start climbing the first of six upcoming mountain passes. It’s late September, and the leaves on the birch trees have started to turn yellow and red. At about 1,200 meters above sea level (MASL), it’s warmer than usual for this time of year, and the air is still as we pass through the tree line. As we reach the mountaintop, an eerie dark cloud suddenly appears in the sky, engulfing us as we cross the plateau. I start to wonder if the next 200 kilometers will be wet and muddy, but much to our relief, the ominous clouds pass as we begin our descent into valley for our first stop of the day: Christian’s morning coffee fix.

After a couple of cups, we continue toward our biggest climb of the day. With an average incline of 10 percent and long stretches around 14–16 percent, the 13-kilometer road up to Juvass is one of the biggest climbs in the country, bringing you up to Galdhøpiggen—Norway’s tallest mountain at 2,469 MASL. As we approach the start of the climb, our surroundings shift from peaceful fields and lakes to a raging river and a narrow v-shaped valley. We start to make our way up. Whether it’s the rigor of the climb itself or the rise in temperature to 20 degrees Celsius, we soon find ourselves sweating like crazy.

Helmets off, we push on. The trees slowly dissipate, and as we pass the 1,200-MASL mark up Juvass, we find ourselves exposed to the amazing views of the surrounding mountain range. Once we hit 1,800 MASL, the temperature drops and the wind increases. Finally, at 1,850 MASL, we reach the end of the tarmac. Having been focused on keeping a steady pace on the way up (at least until I started dreaming of a compact crankset in the last hour or so), I was more than ready for the descent. A mandatory hardstyle photo, and down we go! [Insert the sound of two stoked dudes going downhill at 70 kilometers per hour, here.]

Safely down, we head for the next pass—a slightly different climb than the last one. Just 40 kilometers later, we’re greeted by murky skies, light drizzle, and four degrees Celsius. As we travel through the Sognefjellet mountain pass, we see the snow from last winter clinging to the surrounding peaks. We continue our ride toward the setting sun, realizing that we won’t make it to Årdal before nightfall. Still, our spirits are high—we’re on some of the best tarmac this region has to offer, and the the scenery makes it all the more worthwhile. With the last mountain pass of the day, the sun sets behind our backs as we make our way up and over the the last cols. Lights on!

A 30-kilometer descent takes us from 1,315 MASL to sea level. After beer and pizza, we’re happy and tired. We start cycling around Årdal, looking for a dry place to sleep. There it was: switching our lights off, we quietly sneak in and unpack our sleeping bags under the football field’s shelter. Naturally, Christian falls asleep within minutes. I giggle quietly, thinking of our bum-like rando style. Day 1: 200 kilometers.