Norway - crossing the Hardangervidda plateau

The train journey from Oslo to Bergen (a good seven hours) already gives a taste of what is to come. No polders but forests, lakes and soon rougher terrain with snow and ice. Even with summer almost gone, higher up it never stays completely free of snow and ice. In the train plenty people with fully packed backpacks. Every ounce of luggage counts for the hiker on longer trips, you want to take enough with you but certainly not too much. For multi-day treks through the mountains in summer, the lower limit is 7 kilos, assuming you are not camping. Taking less you risk not having enough warm and dry clothes in bad weather. Camping means at least 20 kilos but gives freedom to decide where to pitch your tent that night. The clerk at the DNT store (a kind of Norwegian tourist office, with a focus on mountain sports recreation) in the heart of Oslo advises me against buying rain pants but does sell me a map and universal key for one of the 500 DNT mountain huts. This is a cabin network Norwegians can justifiably be proud of. From full-service mountain huts open year-round to "self-service cabins" where you open the door yourself and leave everything the way you found it. For traversing the Hardangervidda, I had to book five of these mountain huts in advance. Previous to the corona pandemic, hikers can always count on a mattress, now precautions are also taken in the mountains. The Norwegians generally remain stoic about it, and in Oslo there seems little to worry about. People are obediently following the government's instructions. Some fuss was made when 40% of Norwegians with private huts were told not to visit them during the Easter vacation – a true tradition. After all, there is little intensive care capacity in remote areas. This class struggle caused some controversy and it hit the privileged Norwegians in their fundamental right not to be able to use (increasingly luxurious) private cabins near the Fjords or in the mountains.

 

The train calls at the town of Voss, a base for outdoor enthusiasts. Plenty of Dutch, German and Danish people (judging by their license plates) also seem to have made the crossing by ferry and are driving around Norway. A considerable part of this route goes underground, or rather through mountain tunnels and under fjords. Not infrequently, after kilometers underground, you come across an illuminated traffic circle which looks rather like science fiction. It is quite a job to connect all corners of Norway, made possible by tolls and of course oil and gas revenues. The town of Kinsarvik is the starting point for the trek through the Hardangervidda plateau. At approximately 50 by 50 kilometers, this is one of Europe's largest mountain plateaus. Until 10,000 years ago it was completely covered by a huge glacier that brought down rocks the size half a house once it melted. Still a lot of meltwater comes from above which is converted into electricity in hydroelectric power plants throughout Norway, simply by harnessing the energy of the falling water. For that reason, in many valleys also small industries are making use of cheap energy. Past one of the hydropower plants, the road through coniferous forest soon rises to the edge of the plateau. It is wet and slippery everywhere; with and without packs, hikers clamber their way up, or back down, over the stones. The trails in the area are marked, in fact it is a kind of scavenger hunt for the red T on a pile of stones.

 

In winter there is a thick layer of snow everywhere and blue flags are used as markers. The route can then only be covered by cross-country skiing. On a rocky stretch in thick fog I - like a handful of others - lose the trail only to find it again after a half-hour detour. On the edge and at the beginning of the plateau thick fog remains, mud pools and the first snow fields loom ahead. The day hikers have disappeared and for hours I meet no one. At the end of the afternoon only an older Norwegian couple whom I will meet more often in the coming days. After 20 km of mainly climbing a few huts appear. Firewood and gas tanks are the only energy supply here. According to Norwegian law, because of fire hazards, lodging always requires two separate huts close together. The stoves do keep things nice and warm; a special drying room is used to dry footwear and clothing. Like the toilets - where everything disappears into a large hole - you won't last longer than a minute here. The pungent ammonia smell is intolerable and can only be softened by ventilation and sawdust. The hot shower I had hoped for is no more than a bucket of lukewarm water. Inside it is a cozy setting and while enjoying a greasy cream bowl of soup and glass of cider I get talking to a young Dutch couple of whom the guy actually works at a bioplastic company. Plenty to talk about and they explain how they travel through Norway with their camper van. Also staying here semi-permanently is a sheep herding family who let the sheep graze in the area during the summer, an ancient tradition and the meat is very popular at markets down in the valleys.

 

A little stiff the next day the trail continues to Torehytten. It becomes a harsh trek through fog, rain, cold and many snowfields. Several times a helicopter flies over, later it turns out to have picked up stumbled hikers. There is little or no mobile coverage. If you’re part of a small group there is help, solo on the other hand it can be risky. At best, unable to move, you are found beside the trail within hours. If you end up in an ice-cold river or lake, your chances are considerably smaller. The cabin is beautifully situated next to a lake. After more than 20 km of slogging I am exhausted and rest for a few hours. There is however no such thing as relaxing in the small huts, everyone is expected to do their part to fetch water, clean up or keep the fire going. A few times a year these huts are supplied with firewood and provisions by snowmobile or even helicopter. The provisions consist mainly of cans of beans, fish and other high-calorie goodies. More hikers flow in, and I get another scolding from the Norwegian couple because the buckets of lukewarm water I pour over me lead to a small leak in the kitchen. The cabin system relies on mutual trust. Consumed provisions you pay for upon returning home, no cash money is accepted and there is no cell phone coverage. Everyone has to clean their room the next morning and do another chore as well. There is no way to cut corners even if you wished. This ritual is no fun when you sleep somewhere else every night, on the other you realize that you have not signed up for an all-inclusive.

 

Thus, the prospect of a serviced hut for the next stage is appealing. The landscape remains monotonous, rocky trails go up and down. The lack of clear landmarks does not make navigation easy. Some parts of the otherwise fairly clear route are barely – if at all - signposted. Map and compass offer some solace. I prefer to leave the snow passages behind me. Although the piles of snow are hard and compact, it feels as if you could be swallowed up by a large white mass at any moment. Strong ice crevasses give an ominous appearance. Here the ice has apparently melted away or collapsed under its own weight. Often under the meter-thick layer of snow flows a small melt water stream.

 

Stoked am I to arrive at "mountain hotel" Litlos, a collection of wooden huts kept going by a noisy diesel generator. It is a hub in the area and popular among fishermen who go there in search of trout in one of the hundreds of lakes nearby. Hundreds of years ago, local travelers would leave fish behind to be assured of food for years to come. Now fishermen trek through the area camping, off road and thus not completely without danger. With two of them I get talking at supper, because of the bad weather they decided to go to the hut instead of pitching their tent. We are actually served a three-course meal with unlimited fresh fish, washed down with beer or cider. After a hot shower I regain my strength and the next day I feel strong once again. The endurance is good after a few days on the trail and after finding a certain rhythm I can go on for hours at a time. It is relatively the easiest stage and despite some difficult passages I arrive fresh at the next hut. Again an "everyone helps out" hut but the welcome is very warm by a young couple from Oslo who have just been doing this as volunteers for a few days. Everyone helps prepare food and I meet several hikers from along the way. From a distance they had already identified me as non-Norwegian. It’s remarkable how easy you draw to each other in such an inhospitable area and you get talking to more people than at a festival surrounded with thousands of people. 

 

After mopping the entire floor, it is time for the fifth and final stage. The promised nice weather does not materialize and by now I am a bit fed up with it. Soaking wet, after 1.5 hours I overtake a couple that had left half an hour earlier. Keeping a steady pace and knowing that after 23 km a hot shower and buffet are waiting. The sun breaks through eventually and after endless descents the first day hikers appear. Unscathed I then arrive back into civilization.