(2)- In Search of the Greatest Hike: Preikestolen (The Pulpit)
The first of our two Norwegian hikes, Preikestolen, truly tested our climbing skill level. Instead of taking the normal path that 98% of hikers use, I discovered an alternative route known as "Off the Beatin' Path." This trail challenged us with rugged terrain and steep incline, adding an exhilarating sense of adventure to our trek. Each step provided us with a beautiful view of the Norwegian landscapes. As we navigated this less-traveled route, we felt a unique connection to the area by leaving behind the crowds and immersing ourselves in the experience.
Our driver picked us up at a nearby hotel, where we were introduced to another couple, students from China attending a local college. Our guide, an Italian transplant living in Norway, immediately began assessing our hiking experience, eager to gauge our skill level. Fluent in seven languages, he faced a challenge when conversing with the Chinese couple, opting to communicate in Spanish instead. As he inquired about our training and previous hikes, I shared our experiences, noting the local hikes around Stuttgart and our recent four-day trek on the Inca Trail. At the mention of the Inca Trail, his focus shifted entirely to the other couple, revealing a sense of urgency. Soon after, we welcomed a third couple—a doctor from New Jersey and his wife—who mentioned he ran a few mornings a week. However, his wife had no specific training to report, prompting visible concern on our guide's face. After a ferry ride and a long drive, we finally arrived at the park where our climb would begin.
Our adventure started uniquely with a canoe ride across the beautiful fjord. After donning our life vests and receiving safety instructions, the thrill bubbled up inside me. This was the first point at which Karen asked if I intended to kill her. The first challenge lay in navigating from the lodge to the fjord, where our guide carefully observed as we tackled the uneven terrain, stepping over rocks and slippery patches. Once we all arrived, we teamed up to haul the canoes to the water, turning the hike into an unexpected adventure—especially when the wind picked up, and rain began to fall. For a moment, it felt as if our adventure might be cut short with talk of cancellation, forcing us to ascend like the other 98% of visitors. But we found our rhythm and paddled out into the fjord's harsh embrace, battling the gusts until we reached the other side. This was the second point at which Karen asked if I was trying to kill her. Most people have a gradual ascent to the rock. We are being drenched in canoes, battling the wind trying to send us back the way we came, all for fun, and at our own expense. (Karen’s note: I was totally distracted by the rain. Alternately laughing at the absurdity of being soaked before we even trekked a step, and worried about the upcoming unknown climb. I was especially worried about have to wade to shore, getting my hiking boots soaked.) After tying up our canoes, our ascent began, but with it came a bit of a surprise. Our guide kept a watchful eye on the New Jersey couple. He seemed to confirm his suspicions pretty early in the hike, and told the couple that she was going to make the trip. They had two choices, paddle back to where we started the trip, or wait for a boat to pick them up. And then wait until the rest of us were done with the hike, oh maybe 3 hours later. They were not happy (mild understatement), but he told them better here than somewhere on the trial where there were fewer choices.
We continued up the steep incline, scrabbling up what had been a goat path. Our guide, about 120lbs soaking wet, wore big Wellies (rubber boots) while the rest of us had laced up hiking footwear. He bounced from rock to rock, sometimes having to haul Karen up a large rock, while I pushed from below; we worked hard to carefully place each foot We got the the top of one section, and tried to stop to eat something, but the wind almost blew us off the hilltop. This was the third place where Karen looked at me to ask if I was trying to kill her. Just as we neared Preikestolen, our guide informed us that the woman of the Chinese couple had twisted her ankle and asked if we were willing to turn back. We said we would consider the welfare of the group, but then found out we were only a few hundred meters from the rock face and they wanted to go back to the van. So we selfishly said, sorry but, HELL NO, we’re too close to turn back now. They could head back if they wanted, but we were determined to finish the hike. Each step was a testament to our resolve, and nothing was going to stop us from witnessing that breathtaking view.
We explored the summit of Preikestolen, capturing breathtaking views that stretched endlessly across the fjord below. Even though I am afraid of heights, Karen is more squeamish about getting close to the edge. I tend to push her limits on these type of adventures, adding an element of adrenaline for her, peering over the edge knowing that just a single misstep could spell disaster. We snapped countless photos, us as we shared the exhilaration with fellow hikers who had also reached this iconic viewpoint, only we did not know about their stroll to the same vantage point until we headed back.
The other couple limped back to our starting point, and we strolled along with the hundred of others who had shared space on the rock face. Only we were smugly smiling at the success of our extra exertion to get to the same point. They may have smugly thought, what a waste of energy to get to the same spot with all the extra effort. As we descended down the familiar trail back to the lodge, the thrill of the day lingered in our hearts, and trembling legs. With the success of our adventure, we celebrated, sharing a moment with our fellow hikers, captured beautifully in our last picture together. Arriving back at our hotel in Stavanger, we were pretty proud of the day, another adventure (remember our definition — misery in retrospect) where we both survived, stayed married, and have a story to tell. The only downside — Karen says the attempted murder was unsuccessful.
Tomorrow promises to be another exciting travel day as we set our sights on Odda and the Trolltunga hike, eager for more unforgettable moments on our journey.
Stavanger held their annual marathon the next day, with runners going by the windows at the hotel. After our hike, we were walking at a leisurely pace, heading to the ferry towards our next element of the adventure. Luckily, Randy built in a day of transportation and rest between each test. One of the interesting items of note in Stavanger; there was not a single stop light in the whole town. Cars just stopped for each other, whether you were turning left, or even for all pedestrians. We strolled to the ferry station, and had to pick among the 6 or 7 ferry piers to choose from. The ferry ride ended and we headed over to a big bus. There was nothing else at the end of the line, but 2 busses, or at least that’s all I saw. We knew it was the last bus to where we were going (Odda) and if we missed it, we were out of luck. We rushed over to make sure we got seats. There were 6 of us on a giant bus. But that made it easier to move around to see all the gorgeous sites out the windows. The bus stopped twice for picture moments. The last stop to show us a trio of beautiful waterfalls. Two side-by-side, and the other across the road. It was one of those moments, where we looked at each other and smiled, saying “oh the places you take me”.
