Planning at a café

I had unanswered questions about my schedule, so I went in search of another café to plant my butt on.

Now that is a little car.
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Now that is a little car.

I headed north, stopping at a couple of bakeries to buy a single croissant at each, but none of them offered a mocha.

I wonder if that’s how the locals see me? … Naaah.
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I wonder if that’s how the locals see me? … Naaah.

I finally found a tiny café on the edge of town that had snacks, a mocha, and a nice spot to work.  The lady at the counter pointed me to the lasagna in the display case and made a little monologue about it, saying she made it herself with only ingredients she approved. It was a hard sell but she was so charming…

I got it for “take away”, along with a wee quiche, which came with a wee salad. The lasagna looked very dense so I figured it would be dinner.

When she came to my table with the mocha, the lady said “You know, I have chicken soup too.  It goes good with the quiche.”  So of course I bought a bowl of it to eat there, and dang, she was right.

A tomato-based chicken soup. Very tasty.
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A tomato-based chicken soup. Very tasty.

The lady asked where I was from, and when I said California she said “Oh I went there 20 years ago!  I was an exchange student for a year, from Belize. I went to Connecticut. Every weekend I took the train to New York!  I went for free because of my job. But my boyfriend said we should see California so we flew to San Diego and did a road trip.”

We talked about how awesome New York is for a while, and I confessed that she’d seen a lot more if it than me.  I couldn’t help asking:  “So how did you end up in Haugesund?” 

“Oh you know,” she said.  “My husband likes to travel, and he found work here. So we went together. But Norwegians are so nice!  So nice.”

I noticed that she spoke pretty fluent Norwegian to the rest of the customers, and she seemed to be in charge of the place.  She really landed on her feet!

A house of cupcakes? LET ME IN.
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A house of cupcakes? LET ME IN.

I don’t know what it means but I dig it.
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I don’t know what it means but I dig it.

Yep, lots of cupcakes, as advertised.
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Yep, lots of cupcakes, as advertised.

Time for cupcake! (Isn’t it always?)
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Time for cupcake! (Isn’t it always?)

Something-"work", but beyond that, I dunno.
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Something-"work", but beyond that, I dunno.

A sprinkly day down by the water.
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A sprinkly day down by the water.

Rearranging my schedule

Today instead of continuing north like I planned, I turned the bike south and went back into Haugesund, and set up in a café.

I’d agreed to start the new job in less than a month, and I needed time at home to deal with the jetlag and make some repairs. So I had between two and three weeks left in Europe. How much time did that give me in Norway? What should I do with the bicycle and all the gear? The box for transporting it on a plane was still in Amsterdam. How would I get the box and the bike in the same place, and then get it on a plane?

Cool play structure in the center of town.
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Cool play structure in the center of town.

I sipped a decent mocha and ate a sandwich, watching kids play on the weird jungle-gym art installation outside. What if I put the bike in storage, somewhere in Norway, so I didn’t have to fetch the box? I wouldn’t need to take the bike apart either, which would save me an entire day. How much further could I ride in the remaining time?

Travel logistics is not something I decided to get good at when I started bike touring. But it turns out that putting together a plan from a hundred disconnected types of transport, with enough flexibility to deal with delays and bad weather, is often required. You’re not just moving yourself; if it was just that, you could pick a destination and take a ride-share to an airport and cover any distance. What makes it hard is, you’re also responsible for a rather large object festooned with lots of your possessions.

Should you:

  • Take a ferry?
  • Take a train? (Do they carry bikes?)
  • Take the bike partially apart and shove it into the luggage compartments of a cross-country bus?
  • Take a plane, and try and find a packing box locally that can carry your bike?
  • Rent a small van and chuck the bike inside?
  • Rent a U-Haul-style box truck from a moving service and chuck the bike inside?
  • Rent a pickup truck from a home improvement store and chuck the bike in the back?
  • Ask a hotel or some local business to store your bike or luggage?
  • Mail your camping gear home, and rely on hotels, hostels, and AirBnB?
  • Call up a local friend or co-worker, and ask for aid?
  • Call up a non-local friend, and ask them to ship something for you?
  • Ask them to join you, and to bring the empty airline box with them?

I have done all of these things, on different trips over the years. Part of what’s hard is narrowing the options down, but the real problem is finding a chain of things – riding, buses, trains, etc – that moves you over some large distance that, for some reason, you just don’t have the time to cycle any more.

I spent a couple of hours dragging lines around on maps, feeling out the transport options. While I did that I noticed another bike tourist had spotted my bike, and decided there was safety in numbers, and parked his bike nearby and wandered away to find food.

Touring bikes tend to gather together.
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Touring bikes tend to gather together.

I eventually learned some key things:

  • There’s a ferry from Leirvik to Bergen (Skyss 2080 route) https://reise.skyss.no/
  • There’s a ferry from Bergen up to Sogndal (890 route) https://booking.norled.no/
  • The train from Trondheim to Oslo passes close to the other side of the mountain pass I was planning to cycle

By using these, I could bypass over a month of riding, and still get to do three major things:

I set to work building a chain of campground, hotel, and AirBnB reservations, plus ferry and train tickets, that got me from Haugesund to Oslo via the mountain pass, and also divided the days into rideable chunks of distance and elevation. Just as it was taking shape, I saw two people walk up to my bike outside and start talking and pointing at it. I decided to go pack my leftovers into a bike bag, giving me an excuse to say hello.

More friends!
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More friends!

Turns out they were two German tourists. One of them was proficient in English enough to mostly understand what I was saying, and to respond she spoke German into her phone and read the translation out loud to me a few seconds later. They asked questions about the bike and my route through Norway, and wished me good fortune on my trip. Nice people! I handed them one of my silly tour cards and we took a group photo.

On my way back inside I chuckled at how much less warm clothing I was wearing. Was I used to the Norwegian weather already? Was my metabolism cranking? Who knows. The locals seem to run a spectrum between just as bundled as these Germans, and running around in shirts and jeans. (Those are mostly young people.) I see a lot of people my age wearing what I think of as “hiking pants”, but also folks in jeans and even some of those ass-hugging stretchy yoga pants, though always paired with more layers above the waist.

There are also lots of little kids running around in child-sized “hiking pants” and jackets. I guess these are rain pants? Snow pants?  Something I don’t know enough about, being a spoiled Californian!

I finished building the itinerary as far as Oslo. From there I had another decision to make, and I couldn’t decide yet: Do I put the bike in storage, and promise myself to return to Norway in the future? Or do I transport the bike on another string of boats and trains all the way to Amsterdam, pack it up, and fly it home so I can use it there?

The additional transport, plus the baggage fees that I’d need for the bike and gear, were something beyond $1000. Then there was the cost of bringing that stuff back, if I toured in Europe again. Some quick searching showed I could rent a tiny storage unit in Oslo for an entire year, for about half that much. Hmmm.

KONSUL B. STOLT NIELSEN SKJÆNKET SIN FØDEBY DETTE MINDE AAR 1520
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KONSUL B. STOLT NIELSEN SKJÆNKET SIN FØDEBY DETTE MINDE AAR 1520

The café was closing, so I went riding in search of fish and chips. All the pictures on the menus looked uninspiring: Pre-shaped hunks with bread crumbs on them, instead of batter. I turned my nose up at them and bought some thai food, then chomped it while watching my daily Escaflowne episode back at the hotel. I had booked two days, giving me another day to plan, and then it would be time to hit the road with a much stricter schedule…

Encounter with Harald Hårfagre

No one disturbed me at night, or in the morning, stomping around asking if I belonged there or had paid my camping fee. That was nice.

Morning by the water.
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Morning by the water.

See ya later, groovy seaside campsite…
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See ya later, groovy seaside campsite…

I’m sure this is some kind of game board, but I don’t know what it is…
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I’m sure this is some kind of game board, but I don’t know what it is…

That has god to be a VERY strong roof to hold up all that slate.
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That has god to be a VERY strong roof to hold up all that slate.

I took my time packing up the tent, giving it a chance to dry on a picnic table. I had a long way to ride but paradoxically that meant I was going to prepare even slower than usual, because I wanted to make sure the journey started well and that I definitely didn’t leave anything behind.

Those are the two preventable things that bite hardest on a long bike tour: Being surprised by some equipment failure you didn’t check for, and leaving stuff behind. (Even if you know exactly where you left it, that place might be the other side of a mountain it took you six hours to deal with.)

But, it’s a bike tour: That means you don’t have anything to do for the entire day except make the journey. So, slow right down and pay attention to the journey. It could take six hours, or it could take sixteen… That’s fine. It’s a really different vibe than regular modern life.

The hills are alive…
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The hills are alive…

The hills have eyes!

After the first big climb I shot down to a little cluster of houses – not enough to call a town – with a co-op store in the middle. It was the first place along the route where I could get food, so I parked the fully-loaded bike nearby and strolled in, quite confident that the bike would be safe. Such is my trust of Norwegians. I could probably leave it parked there for a week and no one would mess with it, though after a couple of days someone might start asking around to see if there was a confused cyclist wandering the streets without a bike.

I don’t know what’s stranger: That these are “SALT SKUM”, or that they are “candy people”.
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I don’t know what’s stranger: That these are “SALT SKUM”, or that they are “candy people”.

Rich in fiber and protein… As long as you can catch it.
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Rich in fiber and protein… As long as you can catch it.

“Without whole grains?” I thought those were a selling point? Am I mis-translating?
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“Without whole grains?” I thought those were a selling point? Am I mis-translating?

Okay, it’s not the most healthy selection, but I could do worse…
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Okay, it’s not the most healthy selection, but I could do worse…

I’m not proud of what I ended up buying, but I was listening to my stomach and limbs. They wanted:

  • A bag of chips
  • An orange
  • Egg salad (more like a sandwich spread than a salad)
  • Shrimp salad (same)
  • Chocolate milk
  • Two chocolate muffins
  • A couple of mysterious candy bars

It’s not me calling the shots; it’s my legs mostly!

I packed it all into the bike (except for a chocolate muffin which I packed into my belly) and rode on, feeding my ears with “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me”. Keeping up with the news back home in the loosest possible way.

“If you are fond of walking, you are in the right place.” Well said, kiosk.
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“If you are fond of walking, you are in the right place.” Well said, kiosk.

The Himakånå Hike (English taken directly from the sign.)

Himakånå is a spectacular mountain formation towering over Lysevatnet, near Hinderavåa. 3571 MASL (meters above sea level). It is often called Nedstrand’s answer to Troltunga in Hardanger.

The road to the mythical creature of Himakånå, starts by the main road approximately 750 m east of the church, by a small and red electrical transformation kiosk. Here you will find signs pointing to both Himakånå and Stelanuten.

In the beginning, you wil walk on a tractor road, later, on what remains of an old road and path. After passing a section of the trail, the farm Helland will be to your right. Soon the trail goes out in open terrain, where animals can be seen feeding on the grass. Here it will start opening up with a good view of the south and the Ryfyike Islands.

After passing this place, you will find a new sign pointing westward and towards Himakånå. Here will split. One of the two trails continue upwards towards Stelanuten. The trail towards Himakånå is on the left, and passes through a landscape of scattered birch forest, bushes and heather. At the end of the trail, the mountain rises vertically down towards Lysevatnet.

When finally reaching the top, get rewarded with a magnificent view in spectacular surroundings.

The trip back goes the same way as up. Otherwise, it is possible to continue towards Stelanuten and down to our eroe, Ivou dian on takine tils route dow, kis minerten lu liare all chud wor stationed there as it is somewhat far from Hinderavag.

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It rained a bit. I paused under some tall trees and devoured chips and egg spread, until the branches above me were soaked and stopped being a shelter. Nearby some tame geese honked at me, then moseyed over in search of chips. I told them “no”.

Waaait… What am I doing back in California?
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Waaait… What am I doing back in California?

Another few hours of riding brought me over the last hill, into Haugesund. There were lots of students walking around wearing sweatpants with the name of their school stitched onto them in large letters. Small crowds of them were converging on a party happening at the local park. Folks living their regular lives, while I was taking a break from mine.

I really do enjoy how informative the local signage is about hikes.
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I really do enjoy how informative the local signage is about hikes.

The Presten Hike (English taken directly from the sign.)

Route description: 7,0 km round trip to “Presten” (“The Priest”), 213 MASL.

The walk starts at the dam by Eivindsvatn Lake. Follow the road to the right along the lake’s edge and continue on the main road up the valley, “Djupadalen”, at the end of the lake. Walk past “HIL-hytta”, a cabin owned by the orienteering club, and continue straight on across the bridge at the first road fork. At the next fork, keep right and continue upwards to the southern end of Krokavatnet Lake. Cross the little wooden bridge and follow the path upwards. Keep left at both forks in the path to climb to the ridge east of and above the lake.

You will arrive at a tall cairn named “The Priest”, where you will enjoy a marvellous view of large parts of the country around Haugesund. On a clear day you will be able to see “Folgefonna” to the northeast – Norway’s second largest glacier.

The path continues down to “Jetnaheim”, where there is a picnic site with views across the lake. The stone foundations you see are the remains of a cabin built in 1916 by Haugesunds Fjell-lag. It was torn down in 1954, as the lake had been made a drinking water reservoir.

“Jotnaheim” refers to Norse mythology, where a “jotunn” was a kind of troll or ogre. From Jetnaheim the path goes down to the concrete dam at the northern end of Krokavatnet. Cross the dam, and go straight up the rocky slope to “Skaret”, a narrow passage south of the Jotnafjell ridge. The path leads down Skaret to the Djupa-dalen road, taking you back the same way you came, to the Eivindsvatnet dam.

No small lake is complete without one!
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No small lake is complete without one!

Stop here and enjoy a … pac-man?
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Stop here and enjoy a … pac-man?

“Ilga” …. “Long”?? I don’t get it.
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“Ilga” …. “Long”?? I don’t get it.

The border stone between Skale and Førul Fjord, I assume.
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The border stone between Skale and Førul Fjord, I assume.

Adorable brickwork for a school!
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Adorable brickwork for a school!

Ludolf Eide, the guy who championed the creation of the Haraldshaugen memorial nearby which I will soon encounter.
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Ludolf Eide, the guy who championed the creation of the Haraldshaugen memorial nearby which I will soon encounter.

Manhole Gallery: Haugesund
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Manhole Gallery: Haugesund

As I followed the Eurovelo 1 north to the edge of town where my campground was, I approached a striking monument in the center of a park. There was no way I would pass this by without inspecting it.

It turned out to be dedicated to a viking ruler from 1200 years ago named Harald Hårfagre.

Approaching the Haraldshaugen memorial.
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Approaching the Haraldshaugen memorial.

The Haraldshaugen memorial at sunset-ish.
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The Haraldshaugen memorial at sunset-ish.

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Decoration on the Haraldshaugen memorial.
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Decoration on the Haraldshaugen memorial.

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I beheld the inscription on the central obelisk:

Inscription on the Haraldshaugen memorial.
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Inscription on the Haraldshaugen memorial.

IN MEMORY OF
HARALD HAARFAGRE
WHO UNITED THE COUNTIES OF NORWAY
INTO ONE KINGDOM
NORTHERN PEOPLE ERECTED THIS STONE
A THOUSAND YEARS AFTER THE BATTLE
IN HAFSFJORD
1872

Let’s learn at the Haraldshaugen memorial! Part 1
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Let’s learn at the Haraldshaugen memorial! Part 1

Harald Hårfagre (English taken directly from the sign.)

The sagas connect Harald Hårfagre – Harald Fairhair – to a family of chieftains in Vestfold near present-day Oslo. More recently modern historians have claimed that he was a West Country king, hailing from Sogn, Sunnhordaland or Karmey. Harald sought to bring all of Norway under one ruler, most probably driven by the desire to secure the coastal shipping lanes, which were the Vikings’ main trade routes (c. 800-1050 AD). He made allies of the Lade Earls of Trendelag to do battle with the minor kings of West Norway’s fjordland. Harald won the decisive battle in Hafrsfjord, near today’s Stavanger, at the close of the 9th century.

We believe Harald only secured control of Western Norway with his Hafrsfjord fleet. In the sagas we hear of several other royal farms in these parts, such as Avaldsnes on Karmey, and Fitjar in Sunnhordland. In those days the king maintained control by journeying through the realm with his warriors. King Harald died in about 930 AD and is credited with setting in motion the process that led to political and territorial fusion of Norway into one nation, a process that was completed in the 13th century.

Let’s learn at the Haraldshaugen memorial! Part 2
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Let’s learn at the Haraldshaugen memorial! Part 2

Snorre Identifies The Royal Grave

Snorre Sturlasson in his saga of Harald Fairhair writes that “King Harald died of disease in Rogaland and is buried in a mound at Haugar overlooking the Karmsund strait. At Haugesund stands a church, and right beside the churchyard to the northwest lies King Harald Fairhair’s burial mound, but to the west of the church lies King Harald’s gravestone, which once covered his grave in the mound.”

When Snorre visited the area in 1220 he was shown a mound with a burial chamber which, tradition had it, contained Harald Fairhair. Historians in the 19th century agreed, placing his grave at Gard Church. Later research sheds doubt whether it was King Harald’s grave that Snorre visited almost three centuries after his death.

Let’s learn at the Haraldshaugen memorial! Part 3
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Let’s learn at the Haraldshaugen memorial! Part 3

National Monument Since 1872

In 1872, a 17 metre tall granite obelisk was raised at the Gard Church ruins to commemorate the battle of Hafrsfjord 1000 years earlier. The elegant spike symbolises the unification of Norway and stands in a circle of 29 stones, repre-senting the ancient Norwegian counties that Harald brought together. On the north side, between the obelisk and the county stones, lies a gravestone flag that may be the one described by Snorre.

The commemoration obelisk can be seen as a product of the National Romanticism that raged in the late 1830s. It was a period when the country’s ancient history was being tapped to cultivate a new, national self-esteem. The monument at “Haraldshaugen” was the brainchild of Haugesund’s Ludolf Eide, who put forth the idea in 1863 and won country-wide support. The national monument was unveiled on 18th July 1872 by Crown Prince Oscar, later Oscar II. Representatives from the royal family, the national assembly (Storting), government ministers and county dignitarles attended this “1000 Year Jubilee” which occasioned much popular celebration and merrymaking.

Let’s learn at the Haraldshaugen memorial! Part 4
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Let’s learn at the Haraldshaugen memorial! Part 4

Church Ruins

Right beside Haraldshaugen lay the Gard Church. Gard was a royal farm and the largest estate in ancient Skáre district.

Very probably it was Gard Church that Snorre described on his journey to Norway in 1218. The last reference we have is dated 1316. Perhaps the church was left to ruin after the Black Death (AD 1349).

The foundation wall which was visible until well into the 19th century, measured roughly 15 by 6 metres. Also quantities of soapstone have been found on the site, including chiselled and decorated column heads.

Let’s learn at the Haraldshaugen memorial! Part 5
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Let’s learn at the Haraldshaugen memorial! Part 5

Krosshaug

The stone cross at Krosshaug is believed to have been erected in early Christian times. Early stone crosses of this kind indicated that the country was Christian, and they were erected to both “christianise” heathen graves and indicate Christian gathering places before churches were built. They may also have been erected as monumental stones. This cross stands directly on the rock, with no burial mound underneath.

Bishop Fridtjov Birkelid, who studied the Norwegian stone crosses closely, suggests that a monument may have been erected to King Harold the Fairhaired’s eldest son, King Eric Bloodaxe, who died in England in the year AD 945.

The cross is almost 3 metres tall. It broke in half in the winter of 1846-47, and was reconstructed in 1869 with the two parts joined by iron rings. Rogaland and Sunnhordland are the regions outside Great Britain with the largest number of stone crosses from early Christian times.

I think we would all like to claim some kinship with the Vikings, distant or near, because their legacy has had an interesting reconstruction.  People acknowledge that they were murderous, rapacious, kidnapping, plunderous brutes, but then they conveniently drop all that and embrace the spirit of adventure and the freedom of movement they represent in the modern age. … To the point where even the native Icelanders now put anachronistic horns on the viking helmets decorating their official signage, because the myth is honestly more important than the truth.

And the existence of the myth is no accident:  A thousand years of distance, and the scant written records of their more mundane lives, made space for the Viking age to be reconstructed for a modern purpose, similar to the way ancient Egypt is fascinating mostly because the details of their society were lost.  

(Though the case of Egypt is a bit ironic:  Their history, language, and written works were actively destroyed by invading peoples, and the monuments that remained inspired later civilizations to fill that space with fantastical and even supernatural tales.  And so, people worldwide are interested in ancient Egypt, while practically no one but the modern Egyptians are interested in modern Egypt, except for how carefully it acts to preserve its ancient past.)

I guess the lesson for the Persians of several thousand years ago is, “make sure you finish the job.” Har har.

Anyway, I found a decent spot at the campsite right next to the monument. It was windy but the place had good services and was affordable.

A bit windy, but it works.
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A bit windy, but it works.

After seven hours on the bike my right leg was bugging me again, just below the knee. Hopefully I could go easy on it tomorrow.

Right before bed I called up the recruiter who was negotiating the start date of my next job, and we arrived at a compromise of mid-June. It was much, much earlier than I really wanted, but I felt like it was the right move. To get home in time for the jetlag to wear off I would need to aggressively cut my biking schedule and probably book a bunch of things in advance. It would be difficult. But, that’s a problem for “tomorrow me”…

Hjelmeland to Nedstrand

How to make two ropes out of one!
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How to make two ropes out of one!

Somehow I don’t think this critter got here unassisted.
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Somehow I don’t think this critter got here unassisted.

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Back on a boat!
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Back on a boat!

Waiting for the next connection, in a nice warm room.
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Waiting for the next connection, in a nice warm room.

Done with ferries for the day.
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Done with ferries for the day.

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Manhole Gallery: Nedstrand
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Manhole Gallery: Nedstrand

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Nice spot by the water. Only a smattering of rain…
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Nice spot by the water. Only a smattering of rain…

Exploring Hjelmeland

I made it to the land of helms! Or is it hills?
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I made it to the land of helms! Or is it hills?

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I don’t even know what to say, except… LOB NOBS.
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I don’t even know what to say, except… LOB NOBS.

I’m fairly certain this is the most K’s I’ve personally seen in one name.
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I’m fairly certain this is the most K’s I’ve personally seen in one name.

Turf roofs are a thing here!
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Turf roofs are a thing here!

Car ferries passing each other in opposite directions.
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Car ferries passing each other in opposite directions.

The “new” church.
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The “new” church.

Marker for a “common” grave. Graves moved from the old churchyard in Hjelmelandsvågen after the “Great Flood”, 25 Nov 1940
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Marker for a “common” grave. Graves moved from the old churchyard in Hjelmelandsvågen after the “Great Flood”, 25 Nov 1940

I just missed some stuff last month. Oh well…
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I just missed some stuff last month. Oh well…

Many graves have little patches of soil built into them, so you can grow flowers there instead of just placing them.
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Many graves have little patches of soil built into them, so you can grow flowers there instead of just placing them.

One of the postings on the message board was this depressing piece of advice:

Recommendation from Hjelmeland church council:
Be careful not to use the small plastic grave lanterns. Birds steal them and carry them to pastures for livestock. Cattle and sheep can get internal injuries and in the worst case die if they ingest the remains of these grave lanterns.

Good to know…

The hike up Hjelmen
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The hike up Hjelmen

Starting to see a decent view!
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Starting to see a decent view!

Getting a bit sketchy…
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Getting a bit sketchy…

Nearing the top…
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Nearing the top…

Well, at least they gave us ropes?
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Well, at least they gave us ropes?

Very, very mossy around here.
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Very, very mossy around here.

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The monument near the top, and a fine view of the town.
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The monument near the top, and a fine view of the town.

The other side – back or front? – of the monument.
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The other side – back or front? – of the monument.

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The view from the observation bench at the very top. I assume the trees were shorter when the bench was installed?
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The view from the observation bench at the very top. I assume the trees were shorter when the bench was installed?

Perhaps this little doodad marks the highest point.
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Perhaps this little doodad marks the highest point.

Did I mention that it was mossy here??
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Did I mention that it was mossy here??

A challenge for humans; impassable for four-legs.
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A challenge for humans; impassable for four-legs.

No idea why this is on the trail…
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No idea why this is on the trail…

This strange sign reads:

What is the name of the series where you get to know
these cute characters?
A) Kattegata
B) Gabby’s Dollhouse
C) Muffin Cats

No idea why it’s here…

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Relative to the previous one about cartoon characters, the notice on the left is a lot more sensible:

How can you tell the difference between male and female birds?
A) The male bird has larger wings
B) The female bird only sits on the nest
C) The male bird is more colorful

And on the right, some background on the farm by which Hjelmeland probably gets is name:

The Prestagarden

The Prestagarden (Roughly translated as Priest’s Farm), of which Hjelmen is a part, was probably originally called Hjelmeland. In the land register of the Stavanger diocese from 1620 it is called: “Prestegaarden ved Naffen Hjelmeland”. (Roughly translated as “Priest’s Farm at the base of Hjelmeland.”) The old farm name apparently became the name of the parish and later the entire municipality, while the farm has since been simply called Prestagarden.

Today the farm is closed, and the entire inland area is being developed as a city center area.

This division of plots has been going on since the end of the 19th century. In total, there are now between 60-70 fixed plots within the farm boundaries.

The village book for Hjelmeland can tell you a lot about the old farm, including the following:

“Summer work in the outfield by the farm became too scarce. The animals were therefore sent to Heggland to graze. There was no timber forest for the farm, only firewood. A lot of firewood was used in the big old parsonage. The Matriculation Commission mapped out 42 acres of fields and cultivated meadows on the farm in 1865. A large part of the hilly nature of 174 acres was used for cultivation. The hill cast so much shade that the sun disappeared for two months of the year.”

The Juniper Hills

The area along the path from the field of the house and up to this noticeboard is old hay meadow and pasture land. Since there is no grazing pressure today, the hills are gradually being reclaimed by juniper, or “braje” as it is called locally. This is a typical feature. The juniper likes a lot of light, and forms beautiful columns. In pasture areas, it is still seen as a “weed”, as it can be a sign of overgrowth and decay.

Later, the juniper can be outcompeted by birch, as birch grows over it and blocks access to sunlight. This is happening at the top of Hjelmen.

Juniper is a hard and durable wood, which is used for fenceposts, among other things. Other uses are hook sticks, smoking fish and minor woodwork. The smell of clean juniper is good and distinctive.

Based on this notice, I’m near the end of a trail and walking slowly to the beginning, where it merges with the Hjelmeland suburbs, which used to be a farm.

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Not sure which of these roads to take, but I’m sure it will work out.
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Not sure which of these roads to take, but I’m sure it will work out.

The hills were alive with the dinky-dinky-dink sound of bells.
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The hills were alive with the dinky-dinky-dink sound of bells.

It was quiet enough that I could hear the individual bleats of sheep, but mostly what I heard was the “dink dink dink” sound of the bells they were wearing around their necks. It was a chorus of bells – at least 50 of them – at different volumes from all across my field of view, and I couldn’t remember hearing anything quite like it before.

I set the phone on a post and tried to make a recording, but since I had Airpods in, the phone defaulted to recording in lossy mono which ruined the effect. I didn’t realize it until I was back in the tent. Bah! Maybe I’ll encounter another horde of musical sheep later.