(3)- In Search of the Greatest Hike: Trolltunga
Our journey to Odda, the gateway to the stunning Trolltunga, was an adventure in itself. We climbed aboard a large bus, with only about 10 other people, all heading across the entire country of Norway. The roads are winding, narrow, with a cliff or mountain on one side, and not much on the other. When we say narrow, we mean not wide enough for two vehicles to pass each other. So there is a dance required to allow traffic to flow, including small bridges that need to be traversed with only one car or bus at a time. The views are so spectacular, that we moved from seat to seat getting different perspectives on the landscape; cascading waterfalls and pristine rivers. The highlight was undoubtedly the Låtefoss Waterfall, a majestic twin waterfall in the Odda valley that plunges 165 meters and has captivated visitors since the 19th century. Norwegian culture has an amusing quirk regarding urination, as evidenced by a cheeky statue we spotted peeing into the bushes along the roadside. Finally, we arrived at our hotel, ready to rest and prepare for the adventure ahead.
We enjoyed a lovely dinner in the hotel restaurant, savoring local delicacies (reindeer for Randy) while anticipating the adventure that lay ahead. Our host at the hotel, who was also the promoter for the Trolltunga hike, gave us all a good look over, and declared we would all be capable of making the hike. We didn’t even consider we couldn’t, but after our previous experience on the Off the Beaten Path approach to Preikestolen, we guess that some would have over estimated their skill level. The following morning, we attended a mandatory Trolltunga hiker's meeting to discuss safety protocols and assess everyone's skill levels. Rising early, we fueled up with breakfast and packed our lunches for the day-long hike—just over 14 miles with an elevation gain of nearly 3,000 feet. The options were rather limited for our picnic, slabs of bread, peanut butter, and some other meats (Randy’s recollection being 180 degrees off from Karen’s on this) with all the fixings for making sandwiches, an assortment of fresh fruit, and a variety of power bars for easy nutrition. As we gathered the ingredients, we couldn't help but chuckle at the most unusual condiment pairing—they provided us with mayonnaise and caviar! It was a hilarious contrast; one was as basic as it gets while the other was a gourmet touch. We found ourselves debating the merits of “classic” versus “extravagant” as we crafted our sandwiches, and the mere thought of slathering mayonnaise while adding tiny spoonfuls of caviar had me in stitches. Who knew our simple meal would turn into such a culinary comedy? Water wouldn't be a concern, as we could drink straight from the creeks along the way. Fully geared for all conditions, including rain and cold, we made our way to the bus stop. At the trailhead, we met our guide, a petite yet seasoned local, along with two other couples: a brother-sister duo from England and a husband-wife team from Maryland. They were in great shape and seemed much younger, almost as if we could have been their parents. Our guide briefed us on what to expect and how to handle emergencies. As the sun peeked over the horizon, we set off on our hike, excitement bubbling (mixed with a bit of nerves in anticipation) within us.
Along the way, we spotted a few tiny shacks, which we learned were emergency huts for guides, serving as temporary shelters during extended outings—like park rangers in the wild. The views were nothing short of spectacular, with each twist and turn revealing sweeping vistas that took our breaths away. As we neared our destination, dark clouds rolled in and the rain began to fall. Thankfully, it let up just as we reached Trolltunga. We took a well-deserved lunch break and joined the line of eager hikers waiting for their turn to walk out onto the legendary cliff. Our guide, ever the adventurer, rappelled down the side of the rock to capture the perfect angle for our photos. Just as we were gearing up for our picture-perfect moment, the sister of the English couple surprised us all by pulling out ten pounds of makeup, determined to look her best for a photo for the ages. My older son, a seasoned hiker, reminded me about the concept of good weight versus bad weight on hikes. While water, food, and jackets fall into the "good weight" category, he’d categorize makeup as "bad weight." My camera gear? Definitely "good weight."
The hike back was even harder than the trek out to the magnificent Trolltunga. After a tiring ascent and a turn around the breathtaking rock formation, we had clocked in just short of 7 miles. Now we needed to dig deep, tired and drenched, we focused on just finishing the challenging journey. I kept popping my 800mg of Motrin, desperately trying to keep my right knee from exploding in pain. Reflecting on our past experience hiking the Inca Trail, where our energetic guide had insisted on never stopping, we adopted the same relentless strategy here; slow and steady leads toward success, rather than bursts of energy and trying to catch your breath during rest breaks. Though we weren't as fast as the other couples and the guide, we stayed determined; whenever they took a break to rest, we’d pass them and keep rolling along the rocky path. This created a sort of slinky effect all the way back, a rhythmic movement filled with determination. Upon reaching the top of the initial steep section, we paused for a moment to catch our breath, feeling the weight of our exertion. Just then, a stunning Norwegian beauty in cutoff shorts and a bare midriff breezed past us, serving as a striking stark reminder of the journey that still lay ahead. She smiled at Karen as she strolled past. It hit us hard—navigating down this last steep stretch would surely put our quads to the ultimate test. All that lay ahead was a long, challenging descent, and after that, the final couple of miles would hopefully be an easier piece of cake to conquer.
Here are Karen’s notes from the trip:
Trolltunga is hard to explain. We cannot explain to anyone else why we hiked 10 hours to take a picture. Being in the remote place, walking past pristine creeks of flowing water, seeing the fjords hundreds of feet below, it is hard to describe. The pictures cannot do it justice, just like a photo of the Grand Canyon. Within the first couple of hours Randy had me seriously worried that I would not be able to complete the hike. The third mile, or so, is up a series of rock steps. You go up, and up and up. After looking at the profile, Randy said it was about 1000 feet in one mile. As I started to crest the section, I developed tears in my eyes thinking I could not possibly do this for another 8 hours. Plus, you realize, that you will have to come back down this same set of rocks when you are totally pooped. You are totally exhilarated on the walk to the rock. We looked around at the beauty of nature, waterfalls, fjords, rock formations, cliffs, creeks, rivers, rocks and more rocks. On the way back, in a gentle rain, it’s head down and just slog it out. One foot in front of the other. Our younger companions were gazelles on the way out, and gazelles on the way back. As they would pause for a break, we would amble up to join the group, and just have to keep going, because otherwise they would be creating too much distance between us. One woman our age smiled at us as we made our way to Trolltunga, thinking, now in retrospect, “ahhhh, I’m not the only old fool on this trail.” As I stumbled back down those same treacherous rocks, intently paying attention to every place I put my poles and my feet, a young Amazonian-Norwegian woman strode confidently past me. I had on 5 layers. She had on a sports bra and some shorts. She smiled at me, probably because my mouth was hanging open as I admired the young strong woman. Quick, eyes back on the trail, you’ve got to get down all these stone steps. Finally, the end is in sight. You’re too tired and the adrenaline has been flowing for too long to keep you safe for you to think of much of anything but relief. Two days later, you are proud of your accomplishment, but 10 minutes after you’re done, you think it was one of the dumbest things you’ve ever done. The only other thing is to tell the gazelles to try it again in 30 years when they are our age. And they smile and nod appreciating that you have held on to the finish with your sense of humor intact along with your expensive teeth.
Karen
