Trolltunga

A definitive guide to hiking the iconic landmark

It's taken a year to get around to writing this account of our trip to Trolltunga, but I've finally decided to put pen to paper, or should I say fingers to keyboard? Our hike to the iconic landmark, sticking out over lake Ringedalsvatnet, took place during a road trip with my two children in August 2017. My 22yr old son, Sean, had just graduated from university with an honours degree in engineering and my 19yr old daughter, Emma, was due to start her first year at university. Consequently, this would probably be our last extended trip together for a long time, if ever. For that reason we intended to cram as many really memorable moments into the trip as possible, with Trolltunga being top of the list. I have always had an affinity with Norway since first visiting Oslo at the tender age of 6 with my father and grandfather. I didn't get to return until my early thirties, after meeting the love of my life in my home country of Wales. She just happened to be Norwegian! Go figure. From then on I was a regular visitor, travelling extensively by car, motorbike, kayak, ski and foot. My kids accompanied me on many of these trips so they too were very familiar with the country.

Hardangervidda 2016, Day 8, Tuva to Ustaoset and Oslo, 6th April 2016.

Our first "lazy" morning for a couple of days. No rush today, just a short 8km hop from Tuva to Ustaoset to meet up with the train to Oslo. Now, I mentioned yesterday that on my arrival at Tuva Aileen had recognised me and inferred there was a story behind that. Well, the last time I visited Tuva with Hanne, as I have pointed out already, was in a howling wind. Overnight, that wind increased horrendously so that by the next morning we were faced with a near whiteout outside. This was the day we were to make the journey down to Ustaoset to catch our train to Oslo, just as we were going to do today. We had pre-booked our train tickets through the NSB and as we had been able to secure them at the 'minipris', we were not entitled to a refund if we cancelled them. Also, being on a tight schedule, we needed to get back to Oslo in order to make our flight back to the UK. For that reason, and rather stupidly, we prepared to set off to Ustaoset. The same German couple we had travelled to Tuva with from Krækkja were also eager to make the same train and were going to travel with us.

We were advised by others not to make the journey, but chose not to heed their advise and continued anyway. We probably travelled only around 100m before we realised the stupidity in our decision. We could see nothing, not even the next stick on the marked trail. Realising the error of our decision,  we hurriedly turned back to Tuvahytte. I think those present were all pleased to see us return, especially Aileen. We then spent the next few hours staring out of the window desperately hoping that the weather would clear in time to allow us to get to our train, but increasingly coming to the realisation that it was not going to happen. I think Aileen took pity on us and eventually arranged for her husband, Peter, to ferry us to Ustaoset on his snow scooter.

We jumped at the opportunity, but it was hardly a easy ride and I think Peter forever regretted his decision to take us that day. The journey of maybe a couple of kilometres seemed to take forever. The snowscooter 'capsized' on a few occasions, tipping us off and into the snow. Several times we got bogged down in snow drifts and had to dig the scooter out. Hanne was terrified, as I would probably have been if I wasn't too busy being concerned for both Hanne and Peter, who was himself do no spring chicken. Eventually, Peter got us over the hill behind Tuva and into the valley at the bottom of which lay Ustaoset. As soon as we were over the hill the weather cleared so we hopped off the scooter, said our thank you's to Peter, and skied down to Ustaoset, all the time worried for Peter and his return journey, alone, to Ustaoset.

When we eventually arrived home we wrote a long thank you card to Aileen and Peter, later receiving a lovely reply from them. It was for this reason that Aileen and Peter remembered me and were happy to welcome me back, particularly as I had now brought my children with me. On talking to them, it transpired that after Hanne and I had left the hytte that day the weather only worsened and nobody else left for three days, so we had been lucky. For one that we had managed to get away and for actually having survived!!

This morning though was a much different prospect. Our train wasn't until 3.05pm, so we had plenty of time and decided to explore the students overnight snow caves once we had finished a leisurely breakfast.

The snow caves were really quite impressive and, I have to say, I was a little envious of the students who had had the opportunity to be taught all these methods of outdoor winter survival. The three teachers that were escorting the teenagers, who surprisingly elected to sleep and eat in the hytte, were a mine of information on outdoor survival and were more than happy to impart their knowledge and give us a tour of the snow holes. When it was time for them to leave we bade farewell to them as they headed off on their onward journey to Krækkja.

It was with a heavy heart that I re-packed my rucksack this morning because I knew the holiday was coming to an end. I had treasured the time I had spent in the mountains with my son and daughter. This wasn't a sea and sun holiday with family members running off to pools, beaches or bars. This was 24/7 in close proximity to each other, and if you have taken the time to look at the size of the bedrooms, you'll know what I mean when I say CLOSE proximity. Yes, of course, such a holiday is hard work at times, skiing 20+kms a day with 10-15kg on your back, but to me the satisfaction is complete when the day's journey is finished. The satisfaction that you have challenged yourself and achieved your goal. It doesn't have to be a huge goal, as shown by our two smaller tours from Finse, you just need to be realistic and only attempt something that is actually achievable. Each day brings its highs and lows, the highs of the amazing panoramas you are constantly surrounded by on the Hardangervidda and the odd low or two when your thighs are burning on steep inclines or your pack is dragging you down. The highs of seeing your children pushing their comfort zones and achieving so much. Suffice to say, it had been a wonderful time for me in the mountains and, I hope, for Sean and Emma too.

Okay, so we couldn't resist it, we delayed our departure so that we could have one last waffle each. Truly, if you are ever within a hundred kilometres of Finse, make the effort to go that extra distance and try one of Aileen's waffles. I tried all I could to pry the recipe from her but, alas, it is a closely guarded family secret. 

Waffles finished, plates cleared of every last crumb, we don skis and head off toward Ustaoset.

We started ascending again as soon as we left Tuva, but I knew it was only going to be a short climb before a long descent to Ustaoset. As we crested the last rise, we looked down into the valley to see trees for the first time in a week and the small dots of scattered houses in the town below.

The descent was looooong and steep, I think we all experienced at least one fall. Trying to slow yourself down on such a steep and narrow track on thin skis is a lot trickier than on Alpine skis, and it is still a skill I haven't quite mastered. We descended 278 metres in pretty quick time down to Ustaoset and all the time were presented with quite an incredible view of the other side of the valley.

We arrived at the railway station in Ustaoset with plenty of time to spare, so used the washrooms to have a bit of a freshen up and change into some "fresher" clothes. As we waited for the train, so it began to snow, which was for some reason a rather fitting end to the adventure. The train journey back to Oslo went without mishap and was just as mesmerising from a scenic point of view as last weeks journey unless, of course, there was hot pizza in the offing!

The four hour journey went smoothly with us arriving at Oslo around 7.15pm. 

A short walk took us to the sea front from where we caught the number 70 bus to Manglerudsveien and Hege's apartment. As luck would have it, the bus stop we got off at was right next to a Jokers store, so we made a quick shopping trip to pick up a couple of Grandiosa pizzas, Norway's most popular meal, and for Sean and I a couple of cans of our favourite Norwegian beer, Ringnes. A short walk took us to the apartment where we showered, ate and, dead on our feet by now, had an early night.

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Hardangervidda 2016, Day 7, Krækkja to Tuva, 5th April 2016.

After our epic journey yesterday we awoke, surprisingly, to find none of us were suffering from aches, pains, strains or other injuries. We'd had an early night last night after sitting for a while in the lounge area of the hytte, playing cards and talking to other guests. Not that there were that many of them, guests that is. There was a family party of four English people, a group of three Englishmen and a group of three French people, and that was it. We'd had another lovely dinner which was followed by a very quaint desert featuring the logo for the DNT.

Another interesting feature at Krækkja was a mass of upwardly pointing icicles outside the main entrance. These have obviously come about from people standing their skis in the snow at any angle other than 90 degrees. When it has subsequently snowed over night in freezing temperatures, the snow/ice has remained after the skis have been removed from the snow. I tried a number of times to take a photo that captured the sight and keep it looking impressive, but seem to have failed dismally.

They just looked so much more impressive if you were there! 

So, anyway, we were again making an early start as we once more had a not inconsiderable distance to travel today. The routine was becoming pretty much second nature by now. Get up, wash, get ski kit on, strip bed, pack gear, get breakfast, wax skis and go. Breakfast at Krækkja was pretty much the same fare as Finse, though not quite as lavish a spread. This was probably more to the size of the establishment than anything else, but there was certainly more than enough to eat. I went to check out and, at the same time, checked on weather conditions. Our slightly grumpy looking landlord assured me that conditions were good to travel. Today's weather was again promising to be overcast with the sun possibly making an appearance mid-afternoon with a slight wind which we would be skiing into. There had been fresh snow overnight, enough to cover all the tracks left from the previous day's toing and froing, but nothing that would cause us any problems. All I needed that I didn't already have was an additional tube of wax, the colour for the day being a most definite red, or so I was told by the landlord and, like I said, they know best.

Before finally leaving, a visit to the WC was required. As I walked across from the main building I noticed one of the other guests stood half way between the two buildings apparently transfixed by something only she could see. On my return to the main building I was surprised to find her stood in the same spot, only this time Sean was stood beside her, and they both appeared to be filming something. When I asked Sean what he was looking at it all became clear. Perched on the roof of the nearby dormitory block was one of the elusive animals we had seen plenty of evidence of, but never actually seen in the flesh, a "Ripa".

We had heard about them, were shown photographs of them by Bankt on our first night at Hallingskeid, had even seen their footprints in the snow, but had never actually seen the living thing, until now. I'm sure once you've seen the photographs no explanation is needed as to why they are so hard to see in this white wilderness. Bankt also had a tail to tell about how women riding on the backs of motorcycles used to be referred to as "exhaust ripas", though I'm assuming something got lost in translation there, I must look into that tale again. 

All kitted up, waxed up and ready to go, we said farewell to Krækkja and its trusty guardian.

Clearly, the "trusty guardian", a huge huskie, was not so oblivious of what was going on around him as he appears to be in this photo and neither was the invisible man travelling with Sean and Emma as it would appear above. You have to wonder in future years, when the kids ask "where was dad" on such and such an occasion, whether they stop to wonder who it was stood patiently on the OTHER side of the camera!?

When I had last made this journey it had been in an almost howling gale with Hanne. We had left Krækkja together with a German couple whom we had met at the hytte and found out we're also heading for Tuva. The wind was at our backs the whole time and we seemed to spend the whole day travelling through a perpetual sea of snowflakes. The plus side was that we had to put no effort whatsoever into our skiing as were were quite literally blown from A to B. The down side was that we saw pretty much nothing and, if we had to have turned around, we would really have been in dire straits. We had been very lucky indeed.

Today's journey was far more pleasant a proposition altogether. Although a little grey, visibility was excellent and the wind really was negligible.

The only negative thought I had was of lugging that bloody MacBook halfway across Norway again, just another of those unexpected chores of parenthood. In all fairness, Sean offered to bear the burden for the day and he's a strong enough lad, but that would have just left me feeling guilty for the day. The skiing was going great though. Emma had really found her rhythm and Sean was like an old hand. The only real hinderance today was that, as the temperature rose, the snow was becoming quite wet which is not conducive to get any sort of glide going. This situation saw not only the air temperature rising but, as the sun made a more and more constant appearance and we were putting more and more effort into our skiing, so too was our body temperature rising.

Before we knew it we reached a main road that we had to cross and which declared we were nearly half way to Tuva.

Surprised at the progress we were making, we decided to stop as soon as we found an appropriate location for both a bite to eat and to re-address what we were wearing. We were all three now absolutely sweltering hot and need to strip off one or two layers of clothing. When we did stop at some exposed boulders to sit on, we were taken aback by the vista surrounding us. The area really is quite breathtakingly beautiful! Seen from the Hardangervidda, the high mountains surround you and appear more like rolling hills than the high mountains that they are. I know it's a real cliché, but whoever coined the phrase of the appearance of the landscape being like an iced cake couldn't really have put it better. After our last couple of days of greyness we were now blessed with the sight of the Hardangervidda in all its glory. Quite often, the photographs don't do the area any justice because you lose all sense of proportion.

Refreshed, rehydrated and reclothed, we set off for their second half of the day.

After having crossed the road I mentioned earlier, we had picked up the trail of a snow scooter which helped our progress immensely. 

Instead of forging our way forward through fresh, sticky snow, we had been able to ski on the area compacted by the scooters tread. We were sorry to see the tracks make a sharp turn to the right and disappear into the distance, leaving us once again with an expanse of virgin snow ahead of us.

As we were getting closer to Tuva, we were seeing more and more patches of vegatation appearing through the snow and exposed rocks. This allowed us to see many of the markers for the DNT's summer routes which are basically large rocks, or a cairn, with a large red 'T' painted upon them.

Just as we all started feeling a little tired, after all, we had by now had two long days of skiing back to back, we joined on of the many prepared trails around Tuva. These are tracks that are cut into the snow on a regular basis for cross country skiers, either for exercise, training or leisure purposes, and made the going that much easier.

In the photo above you can see our destination in the distance, Tuvahytte, a very welcome sight. We pulled up outside the front of the hytte and I was surprised to see a woman we had seen at Finse a couple of days ago. I had last seen her walking across the lake toward Geiterygghytta on snow shoes, so was surprised to see her here. It turned out that she had actually taken the train from Finse to Ustaoset and then walked up to Tuve. Lightweight!! I walked into the hytte to see the landlady, Aileen, who recognised me straight away. There IS a story to be told there, but I will save that for tomorrow. She rushed off to get her husband, Peter, and he too welcomed me back. Not only that, she was so pleased to welcome me back, and to meet Sean and Emma, she treated us to a waffle each. Now, one thing about Aileen's waffles, they really are the best in the whole world. I don't mean the best on the Hardangervidda, or the bests in Norway, I mean, THE BEST IN THE WHOLE WORLD!!! We dug into them and the kids quickly agreed with my opinion as to their tastiness.

No embellishments to the waffles are required. No jam, no brunost, no cream needs adding, to do so would spoil the waffle and probably upset Aileen.

Although there were only three of us at the hytte, Aileen informed us that there were a party of 22 school kids turning up later in the afternoon, though they would not be staying inside. Only the three accompanying teachers would be resident at the hytte and joining us for meals, the 22 kids would be sleeping outdoors in snow caves. That is something I have always wanted to do, so I was really looking forward to see what went on later. In the meantime, we showered and sorted our gear out in our room, which was a very pleasant, good sized room with four bunks. I also took a few minutes to relax outside with an ice cold beer and take in the surroundings.

A sudden flurry of activity marked the arrival of the school party and all three of us watch the ensuing meleé as they unpacked their gear and began cooking up their evening meals outside before beginning the task of digging there snow holes. The instructors went around surveying the area with Avalanche probes, checking the depth of the snow and identifying suitable places to begin digging. Then came out shovels and ice saws before several hours of frantic digging began. It has to be said, digging a snow hole is a time consuming process. It is not a quick fix survival technique by any means, it is more a scenario of identifying the danger you are in at an early enough stage and making early preparations. If you were travelling through worsening weather and trying to push forward as far as possible before stopping, a snow hole is not by then what you will have either the time or energy for, though there would be other options. Snow holing is both time and energy consuming though, and we had ample proof of that as we watched the activity outside. Happily, our entertainment was interrupted by a lavish two course meal prepared by Aileen.

The activity outside continued late into the evening as students came in and out of the hytte asking advice of the teachers, who were also rushing in and out checking on how their charges were getting on. It was exhausting watching them.

We eventually retired to our room with mixed feelings about heading back to Oslo tomorrow. I could happily stay in these mountains for a couple more weeks if I had their choice.

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