Blog

Wind, cold, or rain. Pick two. That’s Norway.

I came prepared for bad weather. I have been prepared for bad weather. It’s still a little disheartening when the locals tell you that this is unseasonably bad weather. I have yet to experience wind, cold, and rain at once for more than a minute or two. When this happens the rain feels like hail against my exposed cheeks and ears but it has always passed quickly. However, two out of the three is a near daily occurrence for me.

I have never liked wind. I remember walking from Lauinger library to my dorm at Copley Hall and proclaiming that I hate the wind. I would take snow or rain or cold any day over wind. I may have changed my mind.

In the mountains north of Trondheim around 6pm I passed a southbound cyclist who was obviously looking for a campsite. He had been looking for an hour but the ground everywhere was boggy. Lots of forest with no one around but laying in the cold water on a windy night would be dangerous. As I began to complain about the wind I had been fighting all day he stopped me and said it’s better than being cold and wet. I was hit with heavy cold rains for the next few days and I understood what he meant. Rain gear is great but it needs to dry out at some point. I began to fall into the comfort of the heated cabins at campgrounds. It made riding all day in the cold rain tolerable and gave me a destination to aim for, a reason to keep riding when I was at my low point for the day.

I arrived in Lofoten expecting a rain storm that evening. It was late when the ferry docked and I was exhausted so I booked a dorm bed for the night. As expected, it rained all night but was generally dry the next day. The weather was great for a few days. A bit of wind and rain but warm air temperatures and nothing dangerous. I walked around in shorts and let the sun bake my pale Irish skin, relishing the warmth.

One morning, at a campsite that was so beautiful I ended my ride the previous night early, I woke up with the side wall of my tent on my face. I knew a storm was coming but I was feeling sluggish and the area was so stunning and the weather so perfect that I figured, I’ll deal with it. I knew there were several campgrounds up the road where I could shelter in a cabin for the night so I didn’t worry about the expected rain.

I had made my biggest error to date in reading the weather forecast. Prior to this the wind hadn’t been terrible so I never paid much attention to the wind forecast. When the forecast said the predicted speed was 13, gaining strength through the night, I assumed they meant 13 knots. I just assumed that knots, unlike miles per hour, was an international measure of speed so the reports would use that. I knew that 13 knots was still strong but I was sure it was manageable.

I pulled into a campground after riding in 30mph headwinds for 3 hours. I asked if this wind was normal for this time of year. This is winter wind the woman handing me my key says. Laughing she adds, it’s great if you need to head south!

The headwind I can deal with. It’s strong but when it’s straight on the bike stays balanced and it’s just a matter of muscling through it. Not easy, but simple. When the wind reaches past 11 and 1 o’clock it gets dangerous. On empty roads these crosswinds force me to steer my bike at an angle into the wind putting extra stress on one side of my body. When a car passes I have to straighten out to allow the car to pass, forcing myself to fight at a bad angle. Depending on the angle of the wind the car may block the wind for a moment, a welcome relief, but then I get slammed again. When larger trucks approach me I get hit with their wake. I expect it and know I should steer into it but larger trucks travel slower than most cars so there is usually a line of cars right behind it and I am forced to take it broadside. Who would’ve thought that my time on San Francisco Bay would be useful while bike touring?

My saving grace is that it isn’t particularly cold in coastal Arctic Norway. Thanks to the warming effects of the Gulf Stream I’ve been quite comfortable when I haven’t been pelted with wind and whatever it is carrying towards me. If there weren’t 35+mph winds preventing me from getting to the water I would absolutely go for a swim and sunbath.

I ride each day cursing something new about Norway but I wouldn’t have it any other way. As I struggle, cold, wet, sore from fighting the wind, I look at the passing camper vans and think to myself, That’s a great idea. But they simply see Norway. They don’t smell and taste and hear her. In another place I don’t think it would matter as much. While driving around Maui I remember thinking that it felt so different to be in the car and only see the environment around me, unable to use my other senses. Yet here, the weather is the landscape. I could ride the same stretch of road every day and it would be a different experience. Experiencing bad weather, being sheltered in a cabin that feels like the roof will collapse with the amount of rain coming down or feeling the ground beneath my tent shake in the wind, this is what Norway is and I cannot imagine experiencing it (for my first time at least) from the cozy confines of a heated car.

I’ve always heard that Norwegians are tough. In order to live here I can see that you have to be. The land isn’t easy to work with, the weather can be unpredictable and debilitating, winter can last months longer than expected. And yet, this country is stunning. When the sun comes out it warms you in a way that you forget about the hours of rain you just endured. When the wind stops after beating at you mercilessly for days you feel invincible. You can hike in the mountains and stare out over the open ocean, you can sleep on the warm sand of the beach at any time of day, you can fish for your dinner and expect to catch something quite quickly. I may have spent more time cooped up inside on this trip than I had anticipated but this is Norway and this is the experience she is giving me.