June 28, 2009
Rallarvegen
Incredible. It's sunny yet again.
The busload of teens from Scotland are filling the dining room and many are bemused by Norwegian breakfast fare when I go in at eight to eat. They already miss their Coco Pops. Rye bread and thin slices of cheese is all they can have for a while. Some don't bother.
An hour later I'm riding towards Upsete, where there's a train station.
I reckon this'll be a great day's cycling - along the first stretch of the Rallarvegen.
We'll just see where I end up.
The Rallarvegen is a route that follows a rail line and is nicknamed the Navvies' Road as it was built as a track for maintenance and construction workers of the Bergen link over 100 years ago.
The free pamphlet that the tourism officer in back Voss gave is a mine of info. It has a route, obviously, with a profile showing the elevations at key places along the way. There's also a run-down of the path and it tells me - as people have also done - that it's perhaps too early in the year to ride all the way across. Snow is still blocking the highest leg. It's June 28th and I can't get my head round that.
It often starts snowing in October; September is the recommended time to go as it's quieter then and the autumn colors are said to be super-dooper Technicolor. About 20,00 cyclists do it each year - in the space of a few months. A short window. They all have to travel between Upsete and Myrddal by train as there's a 5km tunnel - Gravhalstunnelen. There's no alternative.
I arrive at Upsete in good time for the departure at 10:40; its a small place on its own and once on board the train the collector doesn't charge me for my bike like she should as she thinks it's stupid to do so for such a short ride. It would have been a whopping Kr. 190 on top of the of 33 krone that I pay for my ticket. Wow!
The coffee at Myrdal's station goes down well and the cashier lets me have a second cup free. She says that from here the route may be snowed over and suggests that I get the train, which is something I don't want to do and so get going after a short while spent thinking it over. I'd have had to have waited two hours for the next train.
The path is rough once it leaves the station; rocky and very steep. I have to walk my bike down. The edge is unguarded and there's a sheer drop to death on the other side of it.
The tourism pamphlet suggests starting from the other end of the Rallarvegen - not at Myrdal - as it's then down most of the time. I pass a man and a woman and he tells me I'm going the wrong way and I feel like telling him to piss off. I can do what I want, which is what I'm doing and I'm happy doing it.
After that two-kilometre dangerous section that leads to a junction with a leg heading to Flam, I start going up towards Hallingskeid. It's still rocky but it gets better and evens out somewhat. There's nobody here at all.
From Myrdal, it's about 15km to Hallingskeid. That's where I'm going. Not too far. It's fantastic here; very remote.
The path weaves and twists and runs beside melt-water and below surrounding mountains that are tipped with snow that often sweep right down to where I'm riding. There are some short parts of the route that face north where the sun hasn't hit that have banks of snow still standing deep and white so I have to remove my panniers and lug my bike across them, getting my feet wet and chilled in the process.
One thing I'm unsure about is the time of the next train east from Hallingskeid. After this they say the route will certainly be blocked solid with snow and I can now believe them. The part between Hallingskeid and Finse is the highest and the 21 kilometers will be done by train. I arrive at the station, which is slightly elevated, and am the only person there. It's in the middle of nowhere and is built to withstand the winters. Hallingskeid: what is it exactly? A depot of sorts. There are some dwellings dotted around, but I see not a single soul
The timetable is a bit hard to fathom as today is Sunday and the services are different and its all in the local lingo. I wait. What else? While I do its seems a good idea to switch my front and rear tyres, as the back one has got some blebs in. I notice the front looks to be on its way out too. Maybe I can find some new ones soon. These have done a few miles now.
Two cyclists appear. We chat for 10 minutes and they then head back to Myrdal. He's got no shirt on. I know he's Norwegian. It's not that sunny.
After three hours of hanging around the train comes and I load my bike and clamber up too and buy a ticket to Finse: 54 krone. There are a few other bikes in the rattling goods wagon and I find the owners sat in a carriage. They are a family of three who are heading back after riding the whole route going the other way and I ask the father about the snow and how long it took to just cover these 21 kilometers. He says it took them nine hours. You can do the mathematics.
I've cycled 25km so far.
Finse seems lively. The small station has a bike rental service and the young guy who runs it is in the process of cleaning it up ready for the summer influx of daytrippers. I ask him if he has any tyres to sell and we go inside and look at the stock. They are all wide and too knobbly and so I thank him and set off to see what I can find and soon spot a big building and go in and the guy behind the desk says it's not a hostel but they have beds, so I say it must be a hostel and even if it isn't it'll do.
Finsehytta it's called. I get a room to myself and pay for a help-yourself buffet which is about to start. Good timing or what.
My room is 285 krone and looks out on to a placid half-frozen lake.
My bike is locked up outside and I later use the Internet and have a couple of glasses of beer that's brewed right here on the premises. The same guy serves me. He's from Poland and I tell him that I've met many Poles during my tour who are working like him at reception desks and that I originate from the UK and he says that that was the first place they colonized and we both laugh.
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