{"id":25464,"date":"2024-12-04T19:57:55","date_gmt":"2024-12-04T18:57:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/cyclenorway.com\/?p=25464"},"modified":"2024-12-04T19:57:55","modified_gmt":"2024-12-04T18:57:55","slug":"crossing-norway-in-one-day-the-goldilocks-route","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/cyclenorway.com\/fr\/crossing-norway-in-one-day-the-goldilocks-route\/","title":{"rendered":"Traverser la Norv\u00e8ge en une journ\u00e9e \u2013 L'itin\u00e9raire parfait"},"content":{"rendered":"

It\u2019s 10:00 at night, 19 hours since we began at a quiet Swedish border\u2014a world away from the scene before us now. The wind howls in from the stormy North Atlantic, rain lashes down in waves, and no number of layers can keep the cold from piercing through. How did it go so wrong so quickly? All the planning, training, and resources feel like they\u2019ve unravelled as I stand shivering in an empty car park in a random Norwegian village, just seventy kilometers from our goal. It might as well be a thousand. Sebastian, our cameraman, tries to console me. \u201cIt was a crazy project, and 390 km is an incredible achievement,\u201d he says. His words fall flat. I\u2019ve cycled farther than ever before, enduring extremes, yet I feel only emptiness\u2014a crushing sense of failure. The devil on my shoulder sneers, \u201cLoser.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Part 1: The Dream and the Plan<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Cycling, for me, has never been about power meters, max watts, or structured training rides. It\u2019s always been about discovery, exploration, and the sheer joy of movement. Over the years, I\u2019ve traversed Norway\u2014arguably the most beautiful country in the world\u2014capturing these journeys for my YouTube channel. Among the many iconic routes, one stands out: Nordkapp to Lindesnes, from Norway\u2019s northernmost to its southernmost point. The 3,000-kilometer journey across varied and breathtaking landscapes was a monumental achievement, and it left me craving the next big challenge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The idea to cross Norway from east to west sparked my imagination. Unlike the well-trodden north-south route, no official path exists between Vard\u00f8 in the east and Vardetangen in the west. After research, I decided on a more southerly route: from the Swedish border to the picturesque coastal town of \u00c5lesund. The journey would span 455 kilometers, featuring 4,000 meters of elevation gain and a mix of tarmac and gravel\u2014a quintessentially Norwegian cycling adventure. Ambitious? Yes. But achievable within 24 hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Ror\u00f8s<\/div><\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I shared my plan with Jeff Webb, CEO of Fara Cycling,<\/a> a high-end bike company. Jeff, an ex-pro cyclist with a wealth of endurance experience, helped refine the route. The final version\u2014463 kilometers of \u201cjust right\u201d cycling\u2014was as close to perfect as we could imagine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The Journey Begins<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Three weeks later, at 3:00 a.m., Jeff and I stood at the remote Swedish border crossing of Vauldalen. The temperature hovered at 6\u00b0C, and mosquitoes buzzed incessantly. Sleep had eluded me the night before; adrenaline and nerves kept me wide awake. The goal wasn\u2019t just to cross Norway but to create an inspiring film for my YouTube audience. We had the support of Sebastian and Lucas, a Polish filmmaking duo experienced in capturing the drama of Norwegian cycling races.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jeff\u2014not exactly a morning person\u2014exuded calm confidence. Fresh off a grueling 1,200-kilometer race through Italy, he had both the stamina and the mindset for ultra-distance rides. As we pedaled into the chilly darkness, the road stretched ahead like a promise, its end shrouded in mystery.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Part 2: Challenges on the Road<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

The first hours on the bike are always the hardest for me. The devil on my shoulder whispers doubts, but Jeff\u2019s steady conversation keeps me grounded. As dawn breaks, the world transforms. A blood-orange sunrise ignites the horizon, and mist dances over countless lakes, creating an ethereal, cinematic atmosphere. It feels like the opening act of an epic quest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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At 40 kilometers, we roll into R\u00f8r\u00f8s, a historic mining town of weathered wooden houses. The streets are eerily silent in the early morning, save for a trio of young men finishing an all-nighter. \u201cAre you cycling to \u00c5lesund?\u201d they ask, incredulous. Somehow, they already know our mission. Their surprise fuels our determination.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The gravel segment that follows is a 20-kilometer stretch through dense forest, its rugged beauty undercut by the challenges it presents. Jeff had assured me it would be worth it, but the rough terrain slows us, and we briefly lose our way. My Strava ego takes a hit as our average speed plummets. Emerging onto smooth tarmac offers relief, but only briefly\u2014the climb into Grimsdalen, an exposed mountain pass, greets us with relentless headwinds. Progress slows to a crawl, and our dream of a sunset arrival in \u00c5lesund begins to waver.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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At Domb\u00e5s, the halfway point, we\u2019re greeted by the chaotic bustle of a tourist hub. Hungry and stressed, we grab food hastily from a crowded supermarket. The delay sets us back further. We push on, hoping to make up time on the descent through Romsdalen valley, but fierce headwinds funneling through the gorge sap our strength and morale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Part 3: The Breaking Point<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

By the time we reach Trollveggen, Europe\u2019s tallest vertical rock wall, the weather turns hostile. Torrential rain and biting cold make every pedal stroke a battle. The temperature dips into single digits, with wind chill cutting deeper. At 370 kilometers, soaked and shivering, we take refuge in an old barn. My body is failing, and my spirit isn\u2019t far behind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Jeff suggests pushing on to Tresfjord Bridge, 15 kilometers away, to reassess. Reluctantly, I agree. Crossing the bridge, a brief glimmer of hope emerges, but it\u2019s fleeting. Ahead lies a forbidding mountain pass under Mordor-like clouds. With 72 kilometers remaining, it\u2019s 10:00 p.m., and we\u2019d need at least four more grueling hours to complete it. The ride is over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Part 4: Reflections and Redemption<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

The vision I\u2019d held onto\u2014cycling into \u00c5lesund under a glorious sunset\u2014is replaced with the harsh reality of loading my bike onto a car rack, soaked and defeated. The failure lingers, gnawing at me for days. Messages from supporters flood my Instagram: \u201cKeep going,\u201d \u201cYou\u2019ve got this,\u201d \u201cyou\u2019re inspiring.\u201d They feel hollow. Deep down, I know there\u2019s only one way to silence my inner critic: try again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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For days after the ride, I couldn\u2019t shake the failure. \u201cWhy did this happen?\u201d \u201cWhat are the odds of such extreme weather in July?\u201d Reviewing the footage only deepened the frustration\u2014there was no ending, just an unfinished story. Deep down, I knew there was only one solution: go back and try again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This wasn\u2019t just about completing the ride; it was personal. I needed to reconcile the memory and end the summer without this failure lingering. I called Jeff and told him, \u201cI\u2019m going back.\u201d Though he considered the ride done, he agreed. We started this journey together, and we\u2019d finish it together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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A week later, we stood at the Swedish border once more, this time without a camera crew or support car. Just two riders, self-supported, ready to face the 463 kilometers ahead. Strangely, it felt liberating. No pressure, no distractions\u2014just the open road and the challenge before us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sebastian, our cameraman from the first attempt, had said we\u2019d learned a lot from our 390 kilometers. At the time, I didn\u2019t want to hear it, but he was right. The off-road section that had frustrated me before now felt like an exciting detour. Grimsdalen, once intimidating, seemed far gentler on a calm day. Instead of stopping in bustling Domb\u00e5s, we found a peaceful caf\u00e9 in Dovre. Experience changes everything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Romsdalen valley was quieter too. With fewer tourists and a supportive tailwind, our average speed climbed to 28 kilometers per hour. Reaching the car park where we\u2019d abandoned the ride weeks earlier was triumphant. This time, the mountain pass ahead was clear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The final stretch wasn\u2019t easy. The back roads to \u00c5lesund were steep and slow, with the last 72 kilometers testing every ounce of resolve. We were certain now that giving up 3 weeks ago was the right decision. The sunset ride that I was desperate to experience was finally granted to me as we summited a small mountain. The view of \u00c5lesund\u2019s archipelago, bathed in glowing colors, was magical. I soared into the tree-lined descent, savoring a moment only cycling can offer\u2014a profound reward after 17 hours on the bike.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Al\u00e8sund<\/div><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

We arrived in \u00c5lesund past 11:30 p.m., with one final challenge: climbing the steep hill overlooking the city. Skipping it wasn\u2019t an option. Exhausted, we pushed to the top and were greeted by a lingering red stripe of light on the horizon above the calm sea. Below, the city\u2019s lights shimmered. We began in darkness and finished in darkness, but in between, we experienced landscapes and moments only Norway can offer in a single day. The Goldilocks route really was just right”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The Film – Across Norway in a Day<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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