man oh man have I been procrastinating on this. I plead a continually complicating life since July.

Back in July, my friend Benedikt and I went to Norway to ride our bikes together, notionally a strategy to take the sting out of our parting. 😦

And :). It’s July and we get to ride together.

I’m a little mixed on the whole ultra distance racing thing. I enjoy it greatly, and, though its heavy weight is in large part its appeal, the way it reshapes my life for months at a time, it is a crazy and largely uncreative way to spend a lot of time. But did I say I enjoy it greatly?

Justinas runs the Bright Midnight. He puts on a really extraordinary event, filled with really amazing people (“you beautiful people”), who all, by Justinas’s craft, conspire to make the otherwise not very famous village of Tolga, Norway, the cycling capital of the world, if only for a day. And the summer riding in Norway just encourages you to keep on at it, with the endless, beautiful views–mountains, fjords, rocks, forests, moss–nice surfaces, nice people, and considerate drivers. And no real darkness. Just, all in all, a long, waking dream. (It can rain sometimes.)

We met in Oslo and took the train–with another 50 cyclists, and the train staff were helpful, not obstructive, what professionals!–up to Tolga for the race start. We met some really cool people on the train, Miklos, Charlotte, and Dennis, as well as some (also really cool) celebrities at the station, Hannah and Eric.

The only real drawback to the whole Norway thing, provided you have some waterproofing, is the truly shocking food price/quality ratio.

Riding as a pair was a new experience for both of us. Obviously we’ve ridden together before, and we’ve had some long days, but this was the hardest we’ve undertaken together, and that made some unexpected challenges. Chief among them was probably just not getting sleepy at the same time. On the second night I stared at the ceiling for 4 hours, but Benedikt was asleep, so it would be crazy to get up, right? So on our last night, I needed to stop a couple of times for some cat naps on the side of the road while Benedikt just waited around for me, which I imagine was pretty discouraging for him. But we agreed afterwards it was probably net positive overall for us to help each other out when we needed it. (Most direct help: I got one of those killer cramps while hiking the bike, and Benedikt carried my bike for me.) And we both had a really good time.

How’d the race go? If I could, I’d go back and do it all again. Here’s the rapid-fire rundown:

We had stayed the night (along with another five or so cyclists) at a farm up the road a couple miles from the start. Our hosts were super nice and accommodating, and left a bike stand out front for us so we could work on the setup before the race start. The bikes slept in the barn.

We gathered in the Coop parking lot for a civilized start. Rain earlier that morning, and the ground was wet. One of those blue, wet skies. Super beautiful. Excitement among the starters. A few looky loos and a few supporters.

When it began, everyone wanted to go fast. We were headed back up the hill to the farm where we had stayed the previous night, and so we knew the climb. Even if you tell yourself you’re not really racing, and, even if you were, the first 20 minutes wouldn’t be decisive, it’s surprisingly annoying to go backwards through the pack continuously on the first climb. But with two of us we could be pretty disciplined and keep the power low.

Nice dirt roads out of town. Early highlight of the first sectors was a slightly tricky rolly single track section through the forest. Muddy, grassy, rooty, very fun. Benedikt had a small mishap and hit the ground once we got to the dirt road on the other side. No harm done, though.

We hit the first gas station and option for food, which we take, and then roll over to a very steep climb, which we probably should have dismounted for, but which we chose to ride. Then down to the first real resupply, a supermarket down in Oppdal. We had a real meal, it was good.

From there, a pretty long road stint down to Sunndalsøra, which was mostly fast highway riding. The only really insane rainstorm of the trip soaks us while the sun is shining. Hail. Definitely in Norway now. Sunndalsøra around dinnertime. We encounter a bunch of other riders. We wait about 20 minutes for a bunch of ill-fated pizzas. They are not very good, and it becomes a chore to eat them over the next day or so.

Getting late and it’s gray, but it’s nice and we still have legs. So we happily take on the next climb, which takes us past yet another beautiful fjord–we’ve already lost count–and more torrents of water pouring down from above us through cracks in the black rocks–waterfall count also lost.

Around midnight we decide to go for it at the mountain hut we’re going to pass. We’re not alone–there’s a lot of bikes outside.

The attitude of your average mountain hutkeeper, when faced with the unannounced visit of about 30 cyclists, all tunnel-vision on their race, and not in general offering the usual politenesses expected of travelers, is hard to predict. They at this hut were so nice and gracious with all of us, and we passed a very nice evening. We had some cream of cauliflower soup, declined breakfast (it would be too late), and went to bed. In the morning, it turned out that they had decided to start breakfast early, so we lost 40 minutes but gained a real meal–a good trade.

Grade A top notch riding, first out of the plateau we were on, then down to the fjords, through many tunnels, on a gravel road down to the main valley road at the water. Early morning, so no traffic, and just calm water, blue skies, waterfalls, and solitude. So nice.

Around Myklebostad the road gets bigger, and now it’s fully mid-morning, and so there’s more car traffic. It’s a pretty long pull on the road at fjord level until we start climbing again. But it’s beautiful, sunny weather, and we’re just trading off on the aero bars and keeping everything ticking.

We have lunch in Åndalsnes, and then it’s onto one of the advertised difficulties of this edition, the hike up Trollstigen. The road was under construction, and it seemed like it wouldn’t be open for at least the fast people, so the course sent us up a hiking trail as far as the bridge. Justinas had sent some intel–videos–and so we were not too fussed. It’s under the waterfall, so it’s constantly soaked by spray, so it’s wet. But it’s not slippery. The rock is grippy, and there are anyway chains to help pull yourself up. It’s nothing without a bike, and it’s a little difficult with the bike, but it’s not scary. And the views are spectacular.

Unfortunately I got a cramp on the stairs, and so that slowed us down, but we had had a nice chat with a Norwegian racer on the way up–always nice to meet cool people–who told us she worked in a bike shop. She took our picture.

We had a coffee at the top; then it’s a long, paved, fast, highway descent basically to the ferry. I forget the timetable, but the logistics were simple. (Technically you could get skunked if you showed up like around 11 PM or something.)

The ferry was sadly not very long, so we couldn’t nap or really recharge. But it was beautiful. We rode across with a few other riders, all of us seeing the weather on the other side, which looked dark and, honestly, frightening.

But we brought the rain kit. Off the ferry, a long highway climb up to a diversion for a larger tunnel. Pretty much from the get go we found ourselves in a rainstorm. At the diversion, the course turns to gravel, and there is a kind of two-part climb, the first rideable, the second not really. The path is an old post-road, and so it’s graded at like a constant something-teen percent with tight switchbacks. The surface is good, but what’s the point. We walk all the way to the top, by which time it’s not really raining, and then do a nearly identical path on the way back down. I’m shit at that kind of thing–narrow, steep switchbacks–and I’m holding up the show.

At the bottom, we’re a little wet, and we have no idea where to sleep. We pass a hostel, stupidly, saying we’re not going to sleep for a while, but then we find a campground a little up the road and they’re open. We sleep in the room behind the cashier’s office. But we can get a shower down below. It’s late, light, everyone’s asleep in the kind of unreal twilight. I can’t sleep.

Next morning, we have a bad start. We’re a little cold and wet from yesterday. But get a really fun section of chunkier double/single track that takes us around the edge of a lake, right under a cliff–it does split our opinion a little bit–but it’s slow enough that we feel like we’re behind schedule by the time we make it to fjord-level.

On the agenda is a very cute town (Hjelle) and then a long highway climb up to a summer ski place, followed by a truly awesome, smooth gravel rip along the lakes and snow and moonscape.

Then down via a slowish gravel section to a couple five-star climbs, mainly the Sognefjellsvegen, which was a spectacular road climb up into big views of Jotunheimen. We get slightly skunked looking for snacks–we’re a little depleted at this point–but we make it to the big, fun descent into Øvre Årdal, where we have a real resupply and a real sleep in a hotel.

On the fourth day we take it easy out of Øvre Årdal–there’s a big road climb that turns to dirt; once it’s dirt, we mostly walk. Then a fun section through a bunch of tunnels. The hills are covered in moss and lichen and the colors are spectacular.

Then down to the highway, but it’s gloomy and moody and our spirits are a little low for some reason. It’s cold, if I remember right. But we stumble upon a tourist hut with a sign out saying something like, Welcome Bright Midnight!, and we stop in for an unbelievably, treacherously nice pause. We have coffee, pasta with pesto and ham, coca colas, the works. Phenomenal. So good.

Spirits are now insanely high and we go fast through some of the roads I have been on a long time ago (but in the winter). Fast highway descent, then a smooth gravel rolly one to the bottom of the next big climb. Before we take it on, we have a waffle at another tourist kiosk. So good.

The next climb might be the most unremarkable of the ride so far. It’s kind of epic in its boringness. It’s long and the landscape is big. Over the pass it’s a scary fast descent in howling wind before we make it to our next meal, a real resupply at Beitostølen. From there a big highway climb to Bygdin, not super fun, but kind of necessary. Another stop on the Memory Lane tour.

From Bygdin a crazy, blasted landscape. We can see like ten miles ahead. There’s what feels like a hurricane-force crosswind from our left. Once we finally get to the top of the climb I am seriously concerned about losing control of the bike on the descent. The ridiculousness of having a solo accident on a straight road is not lost on me, but I’m aware that the consequences, at like 80 kph, are high. I tap the brakes.

All in all it’s about 75 km before the next gravel section. On the way we have an inspirational encounter with another rider, who is taking on the race with unreal gusto and commitment. One day we will try to be like Miklos.

On the gravel, we’re into the end phase. I’ve had the notion since this morning that we can do the push to the finish in one. I think Benedikt has had the thought, too, but neither of us wants to say it while the other’s in a mood to disagree. But we begin to talk about it.

Spirits are pretty high until about midnight. I start getting sleepy and cold. We have a lot of stops for minor problems. I keep needing to change clothes. We’re on a plateau, super beautiful and remote and open. But the road follows a river, and it’s like 10 degrees colder in the damp air sitting on its banks. I’m wearing the full kit. Eventually I need a 10 minute liedown while Benedikt tries to keep himself warm.

It’s survival mode until Alvdal, by which we’ve seen the sun’s full rearrival. We stop at a grocery store for breakfast and I take a 30 minute nap in the sun in the parking lot. Then we get back to it, not particularly fast, but we find some rhythm soon enough, and it’s a mellow, happy run into the finish.