Day 1- Round the world
The bike was officially packed. After weighing it a hundred times, I determined it was impossible to get under 50lbs. The box itself weighed almost ten! The bike was not exactly light-weight considering its main component, steel. I was determined to carry on the rest of my luggage, even if it meant awkwardly lugging around a backpack and a pannier through four different airports. The start of my last bike tour consisted of the bike box and all of the clothes in it being lost for the first week. Needless to say, that would not happen again, even if I suffered through 24hrs of travel carrying 60lbs of gear. The box was slightly overweight and the attendant let it slide, thankfully. The bike was checked, good-bye kisses were given, and we were off. I was en route to Denver to rendezvous with Sam, an ultra badass athlete, who I have shared over a decade of friendship. Twenty-four hours of travel was underway. It all became a blur of salty snacks, flights getting rerouted, complimentary beers, and some memorable turbulence, but we made it to Norway. As expected, the bike box was in less than ideal condition. The entire bottom was ripped open, with the packing spewing out. The bike was still intact though, making for a good day.
Miles pedaled = 0 Pastries consumed = 2
Day 2 – Settling the steeds
We had one more flight to catch, taking us north to Molde. Sam and I have a stunning route planned that will take us along the coast, through multiple fjords, and then up into the mountains. After eating at the most beautiful breakfast buffet full of an array of smoked fish, decadent pastries, and eggs cooked every way you can imagine, we hauled the bikes back over to the airport. It’s always “fun” navigating the urban landscape with bike boxes. Of course my box was still overweight and they weren’t budging on the fee this time, so I just decided to pay it instead of repacking the damn thing. The flight was only an hour and the scenery captivated your attention the entire time. I started to get stoked on our adventure. We grabbed the bike boxes and started the construction process. Thankfully, it was a small airport with minimal flights coming in, so we basically had the place to ourselves. Roughly four hours later and the bikes finally felt pieced together. Sam’s derailleur hanger however, was hanging on by a thread, literally, the whole thread was stripped. We were able to pedal though, and that felt nice after so many flights. We decided to stay the night in Molde so we could get an expert opinion on Sam’s bike situation from an actual bike mechanic. It was a Sunday and we quickly realized how many stores were closed on this particular day. We also realized how long we had gone without eating, Sam and I were nearing “The Red” as she calls it, the zone in which you cannot be reasoned and when the world might literally be ending. The food options became simple, what was open. We pedaled to the only open food stop, PizzaBakeren. On the way, we spotted a local diving spot that looked like the perfect picnic dinner. It had a two-tiered diving board that landed you straight into the ocean with a small swimming hole next to it. It was nearly 9 pm, but the sun was still shining and there were heaps of people swimming. After discovering my handlebars perfectly fit a large pizza, we devoured our food and posted up at camp. While watching the sunset, we decided it looked like a “forever alpenglow”. Everything radiated pink for hours, from the water to the mountaintops.
Miles pedaled = 5.75 Pastries consumed = 2
Day 3- Meeting the weather
Our camp neighbor snored like a freight-train. I was up all night thinking of how badly she was suffocating in her sleep. We packed up camp, hit the bike shop, grocery store, and ate some food before setting off on the first proper day of pedaling. The initial stretch was on a bustling highway with no shoulder. It had me reconsidering our route if it would feel this dangerous the whole time. Once we got over the pass, we were awarded a bike lane. The rain started, something we would become so closely acquainted with from here on out. We were only 10 miles in at this point though, and feeling great. We kept riding, our route taking us further and further north. We arrived at the Atlantic Road, a notorious stretch of highway that takes you between islands via eight bridges. It is said to be the most beautiful drive in the world. We had covered much more distance than expected on our first day. It was hard to gauge how many miles we could accomplish with the amount of vertical we were expecting. Sam and I had both plotted the route with two different apps, both projecting over 50,000 feet of climbing (this was a bit intimidating). With no accommodations planned, we rode out to the point across the highway, hoping to find something. We had been pedaling in the rain for about 25 miles now. Of course when we reached the lodge, there were no available rooms, so we turned our bikes right around and kept pedaling. The stretch of highway was absolutely stunning with the architecture portraying a roller-coaster effect (slightly scarier in a downpour…twice). We arrived at the nearest accommodation, which turned out to be a scuba-diving center and Orca touring business. The owner was proud to boast that he was the first one in the world to do Orca tours. He had a cute cabin for rent that Sam and I sprawled all of our wet gear across. We cooked curry and started drinking the 6-pack of Radlers I had been lugging around, grateful to be out of the rain. After a couple drinks, Sam asks “Do these even have alcohol? I don’t feel a thing!” We put the translate app to the test, eventually discovering the extra weight was “Alkoholfri,” how disappointing.
Miles biked = 41.67 Pastries consumed = 1
Day 4 – Getting ambitious
It was still raining when we woke up. Sam and I were surprised how much ground we covered the first day, so we decided to set our next destination a little further, but would reroute inland vs the coastal route as it kept us off the main roads. The rain let up a bit, which was a nice relief. We rode along the coast for a few hours before dropping inland along a dirt track, passing “Klievatnet,” a small lake. It was a bit of a slog uphill on the double-track, especially because, did I mention it was raining again? Needless to say, the road was a little rutted out. It made for an exciting, yet harrowing downhill with all the gear. I arrived at the bottom pumped that I was upright on two wheels just to turn around and see that Sam was missing. Where the hell did she go? After calling out for a couple minutes, I started trekking back up the hill with my bike to find her rigging her broken pannier back on the bike. She had taken quite the digger but was holding strong. She showed off her new battle wounds and the new system she engineered to keep her pannier strapped. The descent took us into a small town, Klieve, which turned out to be a little light on resources for resupply. As we plotted our next move, the heaviest downpour greeted us. It felt like Poseiden himself was unleashing. Holy hell! Can we catch a break on the rain? We spotted a building that looked like it had shelter, maybe a school, so we booked it over and posted up on the patio. Sam just starts laughing as we roll our bikes under the shelter, saying “at least we have real beers now!” We had decided not to grab more groceries as we were having a hard time finding propane to cook. The beer helped the disheartened feeling I was having. We didn’t know where we were going to sleep and had very little food. We were about 45 miles into the ride and had another 10 or so to the next camp. Once the rain let up (slightly), we set off. It was about dinner time and I was starting to feel that the 3 PB&Js just weren’t cutting it anymore (nearing The RED). Thankfully, there was only one more pass to climb first. We rolled into camp about an hour later. The kitchen they had for campers looked like a miniature swiss chalet on stilts and you had to crouch down to enter the door to avoid hitting your head. Dinner consisted of what ingredients were present. Rice, onion, chickpeas, green olives, brie cheese, and sriracha actually makes for a pretty tasty meal if you’re ever in a pinch. The non-alcoholic beers were all that were left after our downpour earlier, which sealed the deal on the despair of the meal. The sunset was iconic though. The clouds were hanging onto the tops of the trees and the “forever alpenglow” sky lit up the lake with all of its lily pads like it was trying to impress us. Wow! Not a bad ending to the day! How lucky are we right now? All of those emotions from earlier just flew away. What a good day.
Miles pedaled = 54 Pastries consumed = 1 (unless PB&Js count)
Day 5- Courting hypothermia
We’re heading for Andalsnes, it’s looking like another 60 miles and our goal is to get there today. The weather is gorgeous and I’m feeling sore, I mean strong! Of course we stopped at the first bakery available to stock up the goods for the day. Sam and I also came across these mini smoothies called Froosh and they have us hooked! There is always one at the ready, right next to the almond croissant. The ride into Eresford was stunning, guiding us along a lake outlined by mountains before dropping into the small town. Now we climb again. The sign leading us up warned of a 10% grade. It was an enjoyable pedal to start. The views kept us distracted and the whole area of Eresford had old, painted cruiser bikes posted up in random places along the highway. After shedding some layers and settling in, we start seeing some clouds roll over the mountain. Eh, what’s a little more rain? My gear is solidly saturated anyway. Then the thunder starts and “Crack!” a big bolt of lightning flashes the sky. Whoa! I don’t want to be exposed in the saddle with that circling us. Then the rain starts, like flash flood rain. We posted the bikes up and tried to take some shelter, shortly discovering how little protection the trees provided from the water pouring down on us. The trees are whipping around now and it’s getting cold. There was a small cabin up ahead. Maybe we should try to seek shelter, real shelter. We dive onto the bikes and ride up the hill till we see the driveway, a dirt road clearly barricaded by a chain. That didn’t stop us. Maybe they”ll forgive the trespassing when they see how drenched and cold we’ve become. We drag the bikes through the surrounding ditch (that is quickly filling up with water) and trudge up the hill. No answer to the knock on the door, everything is locked, and there is no shelter to hide under. Hmm…should we go back to Eresford? The rain will definitely stop if we decide to bike back down and have to climb this pass again. Maybe we should just eat a snack, that might help with logical decisions. We’re already soaked, now it’s just cold. We eat some trail mix, a pecan croissant and wash it down with a mini chocolate milk, wishing it was hot chocolate instead. The storm felt like it was giving up, slightly. Maybe we stood a chance to push forward. I look over at Sam as she is dancing to stay warm. She looks back, holding up her hands and squeezing her fists, water pouring from her gloves. I can’t help but giggle! We kept pedaling and hit the summit, being rewarded with a beautiful descent into Myklebostad. The weather had cleared now, of course. Andalsnes was another 35 miles away, but we decided to call it for the night. We set up the tent right on the river, cooked some curry, and jumped in for a polar plunge to top it off.
Miles pedaled = 31 Pastries = 5
Day 6- Getting fancy
We have a short ride today. Only 35 miles, but it’s currently raining. Sam and I cook breakfast in the tent (I know, I know, highly flammable). We decided to look for some accommodations. It was starting to get difficult sliding on wet clothes every day as nothing was drying out. The route today kept us on the main drag of the 64. I hate this road by now. It’s a main highway and it’s terrifying with semi-trucks. We had to pass through two tunnels. The first was great but the second, we were caught by a semi. They honked as they came up behind us, a friendly honk I think, but it didn’t feel that way as the sound reverberated off the walls and into my soul. Sam and I screamed as we pedaled as fast as our legs could spin. Ooof, that was scary. We’re getting close to town though. Not a lot of snack stops today as we knew we had a hotel waiting for us. We got to Andalsnes after about 4 hours of riding. We had to get a feel for the town before hitting the hotel, so we stopped at the first bakery. Just a slice of cake and a cup of hot cocoa to push us a little further. We arrived at the hotel looking disheveled as it had been raining the entire ride. As we walked into the lobby, puddles began forming at our feet. The lady quickly ushered us back outside and downstairs to the “drying” room. We haven’t had a drying room before. Wow, this place is nice! A hotel with a drying room and a sauna! We might as well treat ourselves to the 4-course dinner that was offered upon arrival…so we did and it was delicious! The “Treat Yourself Tour” begins.
Miles pedaled = 39.2 Pastries = 2
Day 7 – The layover
Sam and I decided to check out Andalsnes for the day. There was a popular hike up one of the hills. It was essentially a root staircase that led you up to a platform overhanging a cliff. This overlooked the city and the surrounding valleys. There was also a tram that could take you to the summit, so we decided to see what treats they wielded at the café as we approached the top. After hiking back down, the day evolved into a treat tour, traveling through the various cafés and bakeries. We biked a pizza back to the hotel (those handlebars coming in handy again) and decided to try for a load of laundry. Everything was getting musky with all the moisture held in the “dry” bags. We gave the hotel staff everything we owned as it was all contaminated by this point. Tomorrow we have the iconic “Trollstigen,” an infamous set of switchbacks climbing a steep mountain pass. The grades are said to reach 22 percent. I was feeling intimidated. Could I actually haul this heavy hunk of steel up that steep road? At least we will be feeling fresh with clean clothes for our early morning start tomorrow. Eleven o’clock rolls around and we decide to check on the laundry. An employee tells us that the washer doesn’t seem to be working properly. Maybe it just needs a little more time. Midnight now, and the sweet hotel staff arrives at the room drenched explaining how he has been googling videos on what could be wrong with it. He wrestles our soaked clothes from the washer, which had neglected the spin cycle and hands them to us apologizing. Sam and I wrung them out in the showers for the sauna, giggling at the amount of water each article of clothing could hold. We then hung them in the drying room with every hope that the quick-dry material would live up to its name. There was not a chance in hell these would be dry in time for our alpine start up Trollstigen tomorrow.
Miles pedaled = 0 Pastries = 6+ Stopped counting
Day 8- Extra soggy bottoms
Well, the clothes are saturated. Saw that one coming. I couldn’t help but think that we had even more weight to carry up the pass now. After seizing the warmth during breakfast, we slid on our soggy bike clothes, squealing as I wiggled into the cold, wet chamois. We wanted to get an early start to avoid the crowds. It’s quite picturesque and a famous location, so it didn’t sound ideal navigating gawking tourists on a narrow road. As we started pedaling, there was still a chill in the air (or maybe it was just the wet clothes). The bike was feeling heavier than normal. Sam reassured me that I definitely didn’t have a flat tire (which I may have known) but was looking for an excuse for my legs feeling weak. We stopped at the base, looking up at the eleven switchbacks that would guide us to the top. The sun was just starting to trickle down the top of the cliffs, waterfalls sprinkled across the landscape. The skies were blue, a sight more unfamiliar since our arrival. Wow, how cool is this? We started the climb, counting down one switchback at a time, somehow instilling more energy each turn. Well, this isn’t so bad! I couldn’t help but smile as we grinded uphill, probably looking sadistic to the cars passing us. So many of them were cheering us on. We decided not to stop for breaks since we were in a groove with the bikes. We reached the sun as we came upon the last switchback, the visitor center in sight, and what we thought was the summit. We stopped at the overlook, tried to find a spot clear of tourists, and shot-gunned our beers in celebration of conquering Trollstigen. We hopped on the bikes and quickly discovered we were nowhere near the top, with another 15 minutes or so of climbing. I couldn’t help but giggle. However, when we finally made it to the true summit, we were rewarded with the sight of our next 13 miles, straight downhill through a gorgeous green valley full of fresh strawberries, called Valldal. We didn’t take the descent for granted and enjoyed every mile of pedal-less coasting. The next place to stop was Lynge, a port town where we would catch a ferry across the channel. As we arrived at the boat, we were quickly ushered on at the last minute. The ferry began to launch as we were getting the bikes settled. A random guy began yelling at Sam that we had to leave the deck immediately. I was frantically trying to grab all of the valuables that were strewn across my bike bags. As we walked inside, I noticed the guy had no uniform on and was on his phone with someone. The whole thing felt fishy, so I quickly ran back out on the deck towards the bikes. As I reached them, I saw three guys walking in their direction, stopping when they spotted me. We sat there just staring at each-other for a minute, my heart pounding, before they turned around and walked away. Was this some theft scheme? Frantically panic the tourists and then raid their luggage? Not today! Thankfully, it was a short ferry and there were no other problems, but it had my blood surging! We disembarked and quickly found ourselves climbing up another mountain. This one felt less enjoyable as the flies were absolutely incessant. It was hot and humid now and the feeling of flies encompassing me was absolutely infuriating. I tried remembering what a stunning place we were in and how incredibly lucky I was to get to pedal up so many hills. But I certainly wasn’t grateful for the bugs in my face! Just go to that dark place, the deep pain cave. The climb seemed to last forever, some 20 miles of pedaling. We made it though, arriving at the overlook for Geirangerfjord. Five more miles of winding downhill, leading us to Geiranger, a small town that sits right on the shore of a narrow, steep fjord. The downhill was glorious. The road winding down, leading us closer and closer to the water and then along the coast. Once again, we felt grateful for having booked an accommodation. Our room turned out to have a waterfront patio. We walked around the town and decided on Fiskekaka for dinner. This was a small fish cake stand that fancied them up into wraps or paired fish cakes with mashed potatoes. It was said to be a traditional Norwegian dish. I only just learned that it was made of catfish, a particular creature I never thought I would enjoy eating. This meal was quite tasty though, and we would become frequent fliers for the next 2 days, returning to try every item on the menu.
Miles pedaled = 50.5 Pastries = 3
Day 9- Cruisin’
Geiranger is a tiny town nestled at the base of steep, green mountains right along the water. Everyone kept mentioning how busy the town is, which had us baffled, because it definitely didn’t feel like it. We ate some breakfast and returned to our room to start making arrangements for Oslo. We were about a week away, so we needed to start the hunt for bike boxes for the return home. We were also working on hair drying (yes, you read that right) our clothes from the day before (remember how we schlepped those soggy things around all day?). As we sat out on the patio sipping coffee, two enormous cruise ships rolled into port. Is this fjord even deep enough for a ship that big? As we proceeded to watch thousands of tourists unload for the next several hours, we quickly understood what people were talking about. The streets rapidly filled up with people and tour buses zipping around the tight turns. We decided on a hike to a couple waterfalls to shake the legs out from yesterday. Then it was onward to tasting the town! There was a cute little chocolate shop serving Mochas and chocolate waffles, which was immediately followed by a proper snack of fish cakes, mashed potatoes, and beer. It was almost dinner time now, so we ended the evening with cocktails and salmon burgers. The perfect meal for our climb tomorrow.
Miles pedaled = 0 Pastries consumed = at least 3, maybe 4
Day 10- Dancing with a melt-down
We got an early start, hoping to avoid all the impending tour buses and cruise ships. I was grateful the clothes were finally dry, even though they smelled foul. We loaded up and started our climb out of town. I knew we had some 35 switchbacks to get through, but I wasn’t sure exactly how much vertical was in front of us, so I just put my music on and settled in. It felt steep, steeper than Trollstigen. We made it past the first push, with one final look down on Geiranger…and the cruise ships arriving. The next valley over was stunning, with one small town surrounded by every shade of green. Everything seemed to shoot out of the ground. The mountains were steep, and there was one in front of us that looked impressive. While admiring it, I noticed the tiny white dots moving on it. Oh boy. The weather was great and we had minimal traffic, so it was ideal conditions to slog up another mountain. The views we had on the way up were out of this world. The clouds were lightly sitting on the mountain-tops, so you could see the entire valley and the road we had been traveling. We stopped for a minute to look at some old hillside cabins that sat near a waterfall (and take a break). It looked like we were nearing the top, with just a few more punchy sections. The mist that started felt nice. We powered through another steep section, thinking this was the top, when I saw the next wall. We are not done yet. The mist that had initially felt nice was starting to feel like the more familiar rain. I threw on the Houdini to take me through the last push. This pass is steep, Trollstigen was just the warm up. The wind kicked up and the rain began to pour. I am not stopping till I reach the top of this damn thing. We had been climbing for HOURS at this point (and I was dancing in The Red zone). Our arrival at the “top” was somehow still not the summit. Well above the tree-line, the scenery became rocky, high alpine, with creeks flowing all around us. There was still snow on the peaks. It felt like an entirely different climate. Now that I was drenched, I threw on the rain shell, and took a deep breath as I was feeling demoralized. We continued to climb for another 15 minutes before descending toward a lake. Finally! We layered up for our descent, passing several more lakes along the way. Lunch was a PB&J, Froosh, and a pastry. We joked about getting sponsored by Froosh so we snapped some photos with them, hoping to be supplied with this delicious drink once we were home. We kept riding, eventually turning back on to the 64 (my least favorite highway), which led us to our accommodation for the night. We had booked a “glamping” spot, but the lodge said they were unable to find our reservation, so they were happy to upgrade us to a cabin at no extra charge. Hell yeah! We had some dinner and finished it off with dessert of course, Fruit Panna Cotta, Brown Cheese Mousse (a Norwegian favorite) and a hot chocolate with Baileys. As Sam would mention to the staff, “Most people might decide between the desserts, but we like to pair them all.”
Miles pedaled = 39 Pastries = 5
Day 11- Snack breaks
We slept in and ate the delicious breakfast they had to offer. The chef at this accommodation really has a gift! Today was going to be a short ride. We are heading to Lom, which is just downstream about 25 miles. It looks like it’s mostly downhill from here. Leisurely riding, we take lots of photos along the river, and stop for too many snack breaks. The weather is great and the riding feels easy. Nissegarden is a campsite that we decided to stay at for the next couple nights. We arrive early in the afternoon and the place feels abandoned. Sam and I eat lunch on the play set and enjoy the rarely experienced sunshine. We head into town after booking a camping cabin and let the shopping begin. Lom was a small town with a major rapid/waterfall running through the middle of it. Next to the falls, was our favorite store, Bakeriet i Lom (you can imagine what that means). Surrounding it were multiple little shops full of outdoor apparel and gear. We only had one day left of riding to our destination, Otta, so we might as well get the souvenirs here. We can always find more space on the bikes! We loaded up on souvenirs and topped off on groceries for the night. The Coop (which always provided the best groceries) in this town managed to have the best selection of beers and desserts, one of which being the “Vanilla Slice.” Sam and I used to devour Vanilla Slices on our previous bike tour through Europe. Sam literally squealed and jumped in the air when I told her that’s what it looked like. We returned to the cabin and cooked a fabulous dinner, quickly followed by dessert, of course.
Miles pedaled = 25 Pastries = 2
Day 12- Lomseggin
After seeing Lom, we were stoked that we decided on a layover here. There was a hike just out of town that we wanted to check out. We cooked the usual breakfast, a veggie/egg scramble with toast and set off on the bikes to find the trailhead. As we arrived, there were people lining the street waiting for something. We waited around to see if some racers would come ripping through, but we slowly lost interest and started the hike. As usual in Norway, the hike was to the point, literally a straight line to the top. We stopped at a small cabin that sat on the saddle. It appeared to be an emergency shelter with a small, wood stove and a couple of bunks. The summit was a rocky overlook of the entire surrounding valleys. It viewed the Otta River (the one we’ve been following) and the entire stretch of valley we will be traveling tomorrow. We pulled out a couple snacks (pastries) and took in the view. This is where the name “Peaks and Pastries” would come to mind. There were clouds rolling in, but Sam and I had one goal first, the topless tour photo. We had been having a difficult time finding a location that was isolated and scenic enough to take another photo (this tradition was started on the last tour together). We snapped the photo and started running down the trail before the rain hit. The descent took us straight down another aspect of the mountain. The wildflowers were absolutely stunning over here! The rest of the descent was a little painful on the toes but we had a view the entire trek down. We hopped on the bikes, went to the bakery and finished up the souvenir shopping. Only one more day on the bikes tomorrow.
Miles pedaled = 5 Pastries = 4
Day 13- Crashing parades
The last day of pedaling would keep us on a small road that paralleled the highway and the river. I was sad that today was the last of riding, but excited that we would never have to ride the 64 again. We started in the rain, but were quickly met with sunshine along the way. The route was relatively flat with some punchy climbs. We followed along the river and admired the houses on the hillside. The road met up with a Eurovelo route that crossed the river and took us along the opposing side. We deviated from the river to climb into another valley, which quickly reacquainted us with the Otta again. Winding through the countryside, we passed a young child on his bike. Not thinking much of it, we waved and pedaled on, until he reappeared some three miles down the road. Where is this kid riding all alone? That is when we spot a parade of bicyclists in front of us followed by a safety vehicle. As we approach the vehicle, he stops to inform us that there is a Slow TV event occurring. It is about biking across Norway. I couldn’t help but giggle. Of course we end up in some foreign bike parade celebrating biking across Norway our last 3 miles of actually biking across Norway. We scurry into the crowd and keep pedaling. So this is what everyone was lining the streets for in Lom. Families were at the edge of their driveways lining the street to wave at the camera and greet all of the riders. We rode with them our final miles until we landed at our campsite. The sun was still out so we finally set up the camp chairs, something I was so insistent on carrying (also a piece of gear that had never been used as it was perpetually drenched). I sat down and sipped on my chocolate oatmilk, just slurping down the last of it when the rain started. Sam and I embraced it and enjoyed our last night of the tour. We cooked dinner, drank all the beers that were left, and curled up in the tent. We would catch the train from Otta back to Oslo in the morning, if we were able to get tickets.
Miles pedaled = 40 Pastries 3
Day 14- Good people
We woke up early to get to the station. The website to buy train tickets had been saying there was no space left for the bikes, which had us concerned. When the train arrived, we ran our bikes over and the conductor quickly shuffled us into the correct cabin. He asked for our tickets after the train departed and when we told him we didn’t have any, he stared at us for a moment. He then graciously sold us the tickets and told us to just go ahead and sit in the premium class seats as there were unlimited snacks. He came to check on us multiple times throughout the ride, bringing us snacks and drinks, concerned about our nutrition while biking so much. By the time we unloaded the train in Oslo, he had our bikes unloaded and was guarding them on the platform. Now we just needed to get the bike boxes. We dropped the bikes at the hotel and started the trek to the bike shop. It was about a 20 minute walk through the city from the hotel. We stopped for Fish n’ Chips on the way and did a little sightseeing. As we arrived at the place the map guided us to, we looked around, no bike shop in sight. Sam had been in contact with the owner of the store about keeping the boxes for us. She gave him a call and he informed us that the shop has moved but the map keeps sending people in the wrong direction. The shop is now…out of Oslo. By this time, it’s about 3:15 and his shop closes for the weekend at 4. The train ride is about 20 minutes and then his shop is another 10 minute walk, not to mention the 20 minute walk back to the train station. We had been in contact with multiple bike shops in Oslo for boxes but he was the only guy to have any available. The only train that may get us to him in time leaves in 15 minutes. We start running. Now we’re running back to the train station we just so recently left and we were a solid 20 minutes in the opposite direction. We couldn’t help but burst into laughter as we realized how ridiculous this all was. We kept running through the streets, giggling uncontrollably (Sam obviously setting a quick pace). We arrived at the platform just in time. When we got into the town, we would have to run to the bike shop. Thankfully, this gentleman was nice enough to stay a little late to ensure we had these boxes. We arrived at the shop at 4:15. He gives us the bike boxes and asks about our trip. As we leave the shop, we see a dark cloud just in the distance. Cardboard boxes and rain don’t traditionally mix well. Now we run back to the train station, bike boxes in hand and take shelter till the next train arrives. We eventually made it to the hotel with dry boxes before the storm settled in. Phew! We made it to Oslo and we officially have boxes. Now we break down the bikes and taste the city.
Miles pedaled = 3 Pastries consumed = 3
A very happy ending
The next two days are full of cafés, beers, sightseeing, and packing the bikes. We watched the changing of the guard and toured around the Royal Palace. Departure day arrived and we hauled our bags and bike boxes back to the train station and the airport. This was a sight I wish I had taken a video of, each of us carrying two large bags precariously rigged to ourselves while simultaneously schlepping a heavy bike box. Sam and I both nailed the weight perfectly this time though, barely under the max limit. After another 24 hours of travel, we arrived at our respectable destinations, no bikes in sight. At least we had them for the trip! We spent the next several days missing “our girls” before they arrived in one piece. A happy ending to an incredible experience! Hope to see you again, Norway.