Epics – Adventures – Errors

D.A. Smithson

The last two bulletins have seen attempts to make epic adventures seem quite reasonable: David & Co. in the Alps; John & Co. in Spain. These attempts to spoil a good story by providing facts will be ignored by all of us who enjoy affectionately laughing at friends whose tents blow down. This only applies to ‘adventures’, where the participant survive intact, not to ‘disasters’ where they don’t. I spend much thought and effort to avoid adventures, but on solitary journeys the gap between an adventure and a disaster is much narrower. On a first day out on mixed snow and rock, to have been travelling on snowshoes for ten hours, light fading, and no hut in sight must have been an adventure because I was can-ying winter bivouac equipment. There never seem to be places to bed down when the unplanned time arrives. I knew a long first day was a mistake and accommodation problems had delayed my departure and all I could do was just force myself onward towards the hoped for goal. And I made it. As so often, I just made it. The rermining days of the trip showed that I didn’t need the stove, the extra sleeping bag and the food for an escape to civilisation. I only needed the ice axe on one occasion, but that is enough, and the medical kit and spare clothing were just extra weight. I might have managed without the Walkman but not without the books. Eight days alone is a long time, especially in the huts when weighed down by silence, if one only has the thoughts one carries with one.

I walked a recognised route from Hardanger to Jotunhiemen, Finse to Ardal. A summer route of 5/6 hours each day from hut to hut and also a winter route. But I went in spring, when some of the huts are closed, but when in previous years I have repeatedly had good weather and good snow. This year it was different. The weather was mostly good but the snow was bad, even though all the route was over 1000m. I had hoped for and expected a good covering of snow to make the travelling easier and to have fun and adventure with route finding, with nearly all the waymarks out of sight. As it happened most of the waymarks were visible with the snow patchy and deep and wet, which raised the fears of stream crossings. Most of the streams I met turned into rivers as soon as I tried to cross them. The most feared stream was frozen but an unexpected one gave me a ‘thrill’. I edged forward flunking to jump the naiTow deep channel even though with my heavy sack my jump was only a little longer than my stride, but much more committing. The crack went round behind me and before my footing dissolved and floated away, I fell over backwards so that I lay on my rucksack with my feet and legs over the torrent. I thought of sheep and of beetles as I struggled to get to my feet. This is a move we do not practice and, in the company of others, simply amusing. Another ‘thrill’ was when the combination of heat and cold produced snow like quick sand. To have the snow shoe sink to knee depth without meeting resistance and then to try to lift it out carrying a full load of wet snow. The first time was exciting but then it was just hard work which fortunately only occurred for two or three steps at a time.

It is not a route to recommend. The scenery was similar throughout and it is difficult to tell where photograph are taken . In summer the lakes will show up and there will be greenery and wildlife. In the winter, on ski, it will be travelled more quickly and with varying terrain on which to exercise skill and route finding. With the patchiness of the snow, ski would have been no help to me, though quick release bindings on the snow shoes would have been. I walked quite long distances over the rocks with snowshoes on because it became such an effort to bend to remove and replace them. A lighter rucksack, as usual, would have made the travel easier and with most of the waymarks in sight, maybe I was over cautious, but the best way to make sure one does not need emergency equipment is to take it. As usual, I was wannly greeted in Ardal, though in Norway there seem to be plenty of warm welcomes and kindnesses. A man was repairing one of the huts I visited and commuted from his home by snow mobile. He came in to talk a while and to give me an apple and an orange, all of which were very welcome. I travelled to Bergen on the last Express boat to do the full journey from Ardal to Bergen. If the anger of the locals lasts then it would be advisable to use the direct bus the whole way in future to deny the express boats the business. Ardal still remains one of the easiest places to visit using public transport.