Hiking the Rondane

Rondane National Park is a little over 300km from Oslo and a large portion of this drive rides along the huge Mjøsa lake.

We got on the road about 9pm but it wasn't very dark when we finally pulled off the road to sleep at 2am. The drive was delayed by construction work that seemed to stretch the entire 300km and included one wait of nearly a half hour. The average speed limit was 40-80km/hour (25-50miles/hour). As we got closer to the park, the landscape grew more barren and wild until we were driving through empty landscapes of moss and stone as far as the eye could see.

We turned off and slept that first night on a mossy dirt road cut into the tangled birch forest. The birch grow like weeds in Norway and they're covered with thick coats of moss and lichen. We couldn't see much in the dark twilight but in the morning (a couple hours later) there was frost on the ground and I got up and explored the area. The lichen overgrown dirt road we had stopped on was a ski trail and at a crossroads nearby there was a high wooden road sign. Walking down this track a ways revealed a sheltered valley with a small collection of houses with sod roofs. The place was silent and isolated and, because this unused road seemed like the only way into the area it had a sinister character - like something out of a Lovecraft novel.

I'm sure there was another, paved road leading to this place but I preferred to imagine it peopled with icthyian cultists worshipping the old ones as they slept below.

A short way down the road from our first ad-hoc campsite we stopped at a small grocery store flanked by wooden troll carvings and staffed by a single bored woman baking bread and manning the till. We bought all our supplies there and our arrival was probably the most exciting thing to happen to that woman all day. The store was adjacent to a cafe but they were obviously closed, it wasn't even 10am.

We bought this can of 'Snurring' because it was described as 'camping food'.

The small town beyond the cafe had been carved into the thicket of birch trees which grew as thick and dense as grass. Most of the houses were small and had large woodpiles and the roofs were covered in stone and sod with large stones resting on metal plates over the chimneys. I was curious how deep the snow got in the winter and how isolated these homes get when buried by storms. Ja and I discussed it and we agreed, we could spend a winter isolated and trapped in this remote place if there was electricity and access to the internet. Given the opportunity to get away from work and social pressures for a while I could finally catch up on those movies I've been meaning to watch, get reacquainted with my comic collection, and have my fill of dwarf fortress.

Shortly after entering the town, We saw a larger grocery store and stopped again to investigate the possibility getting some coffee. The coffee shop was locked from the outside but when we spoke to one of the women working in the adjoining department store, she said "Come with me!" and ran off through an employee's only door. We followed her into the small cafe. There were 5 other sullen Norwegian men already there drinking coffee. I don't know how they got in - unless it was normal for locals to use the 'employees only' door between buildings. The woman took our order for coffee and we watched Norwegian morning television as we relaxed.

The park wasn't gated and the only indication it was there at all were the two or three signs pointing to trail heads at the side of the road. We drove past these looking for an official entrance and came across the famous Rondane scenic viewing point: a sinuous concrete platform propped up around the forest trees.

After consulting a nearby map we drove back through the picturesque village and parked at one of the trail heads. The map there showed a gentle 10km loop with some lakes and a stream.

The hike was pleasant and the trail soon entered a vast field of light-turquoise colored lichen. The landscape was alien and I took more pictures than necessary trying to capture how weird it was. We stopped by one of the lakes to eat a lunch of bread, cheese, pate, and saucisson before continuing on towards the mountain. There were a few well marked trails and a crisscross of unofficial ones and we wandered among these until we saw a fire pit and decided it was a good spot for camp.

Along the trail we saw several squashed lemmings and later that day we saw several more on the trails. They acted like ground squirrels, standing invisible on the trail until you got close and then chirping and jumping down a hole. I tried to catch them on camera but they were quick and skittish. Later, when showing my dad pictures from the trip we came across a picture of the trail that seemed out of place and I told my dad there was probably a lemming in there somewhere. He pointed to a blotch on the screen and after some CSI zoom-and-enhance work we found it.

We saw tons of reindeer and moose tracks and droppings. And once when ja and I stopped to wait for the others, we heard a distant coughing. It wasn't a barking roe-deer:

(Though you should watch that video because it's hilarious.) But it could have been a moose. The Rondane is the only place in Norway where herds of reindeer still run wild. We saw neither reindeer nor moose during out visit.

That evening we opened the can of Snurring to discover it was a mixture of ground meat, rice, and bland spices and Luisa roasted her first marshmallow. Ja showed our Italian guests how to make smores. With all the sugar, Luisa grew hyper and talkative, and told us this was the best thing she'd ever eaten and emphasized her new love by standing, saluting, and singing the US national anthem.

We also drank ja's anise spiced akevitt, passing it around in a small birch cup. After an evening passing the cup, sometimes to himself, Emeliano remarked, "My fingers are cold but I really don't care."

The corkscrew on the swiss army knife broke the cork in the bottle and we would have tried digging the rest out with a knife but I remembered a trick I saw online where you put the bottle into a shoe and bang it on a wall. This worked surprisingly well, the broken cork inched it's way out until we could pull it out with our fingers. Emeliano was proud.

That evening heavy clouds rolled in and we could see it was raining in the distance. Between us, Emeliano and Luisa had a tent, Celine had brought an old tent from France she wasn't sure would work, and Ja had a couple of tarps.

I started to unpack the one-man tent but stopped when I found it only had a single tent pole. Celine said she wasn't sure if it was complete and I just assumed it was missing several poles. Later, ja unwrapped it again and discovered it really only required a single tent pole - it stayed upright by staking it into the ground. Ja constructed a makeshift shelter from his tarps, some rope and heavy stones. I used the saw on his swiss army knife to cut down some young trees for supports.

When it started to rain we retired to our shelters and the next morning the ground was covered in a light dusting of snow. It was pretty but it melted in an hour and was gone by the time we started our hike up the nearby mountain.