My Norwegian Cycling Adventure - Part 5

Day 9 - Forde to Fjaerlands Tunnel 86km in 5hr 25min. Avg speed 15.9kph. Money spent 145Krone (approx £13)

I woke up happy this morning, having found out I was already in perpetual daylight the previous evening. I decided that today would be an easy day after the exertions of yesterday so planned to ride the few kilometres back to Forde to pick up a few things I'd forgotten about yesterday.

Breakfast consisted of another massive bowl of porridge followed by hot chocolate. I packed up, loaded up Hannibal (my bike) and tootled off back the way I came. My lips had become dry and sore so I needed lip balm. I'd also remembered that I had no bicycle oil.

Up to this point I hadn't actually had to converse with anyone because the only interaction with people apart from saying 'Hi' to the ferryman yesterday had been saying 'Hi' to checkout staff in stores. Conversation had been unnecessary as the items were found, prices keyed in and the total price was displayed at the till. The checkout staff had always voiced the final price to me in Norwegian, but I had simply looked at the price, handed over enough money to pay the bill and said 'Tag' when I received the change. I'd been saying 'Tag' as 'Thanks' since being in the country and no-one looked at me strangely so I assumed this was probably correct. I didn't know why I used the word 'Tag' but thought I'd seen it on the TV or something. This time, however, I couldn't find bicycle oil and needed some assistance. I didn't know a single word of Norwegian except maybe 'Tag' but arrogantly assumed (as English people tend to do) that everyone spoke English.

'Do you have any bike oil?' I said to the slightly grumpy looking lady at the checkout. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly but no words came out. She just looked at me as though she was assessing whether I was mentally ill or foreign. 'Bike oil' I said again, but this time I rotated my left hand in a circular motion, holding my right hand over the left hand whilst squeezing my fingers as though I was turning my pedals and squeezing oil onto my chain. This seemed to do the trick for her. She now seemed assured that I was indeed probably mentally ill. 'It's OK' I said and I turned away and perused the shelves once more. I couldn't find bike oil but they did have a can of light lubricant suitable for hinges and the like. This would have to do for now. I returned to the checkout with the oil, lip balm and some postcards and paid without saying another word except 'Bye' as I left.

I rode back past last nights camping spot and continued on up the E39. A short while later I found myself riding alongside a beautiful lake where I took the above photograph. The ride was easy and the scenery breathtaking. Eventually I arrived at a town called Skei that sat at the end of the lake I had just ridden along. 

Here I found a phone box and spoke to Kelly. I told her about last night and waking up at 1am still in daylight. I also told her about the fact that English hadn't seem to have reached Norway yet. She didn't seem to be as enthused as I was about the whole thing. Truth was that the kids had started to give her a hard time, constantly asking when I was coming home. Here I made a change of plan. There didn't seem any point to continue on north for a few hundred more kilometres to see the sun peeking above the horizon at midnight. As I said yesterday, perpetual daylight was enough for me. That was what I really wanted to see. I'd done plenty of distance and had plenty more distance to travel. I'd visited Scandinavia. My goals had been reached already. I told Kelly that I was changing plans and would be home sooner than planned and this cheered her up no end. I made arrangements to telephone again the following day with a more concrete plan after I'd had chance to look at the map.

I found a nice tourist picnic spot by the lake where I ate whilst studying the map. A tourist noticeboard with a large map of the area was nearby so I took a look at it. It seemed that the best route from here would be the road no 5 which would take me in a SE direction around the other side of the lake and down towards Oslo where I could get a flight back home. One thing I did notice on the map was that there was a particularly long tunnel on this route. I'd read the story by Josie Dew, the story of terror; but I'd also spoken to the cyclist in Yorkshire who had assured me that the tunnels, 'were in good shape.' What should I do? I thought again about Kelly and the kids and decided to go for it. There was only one tunnel, how bad could it be?

The no 5 road took me along the other side of the lake for a while before heading away from the lake where I came across other lakes. I took the above photograph as the road began to climb into the mountains and readied myself for the tunnel that was now not too far away.

Soon I reached the tunnel. As Josie Dew had said, there was a large red sign at the entrance. A crossed, red circle containing a picture of a bicycle and someone walking. You didn't have to be Einstein to know what it meant! I entered with some apprehension. The tunnel was well lit for the first 200 metres or so then the lights ended and the light faded until I saw more lights in the distance and the sunlight of the exit came into view. The tunnel was only about 1km long and I was through it in no time at all. I was mightily relieved that Josie Dew's horror story had not come to light and my friend from Yorkshire had been proved right. Then I came across another tunnel! Immediately I was confused as the tourist map showed only 1 tunnel that appeared to be much longer than 1km. As it turned out, the next tunnel was even shorter than the previous one. A couple of minutes further on I came to a third tunnel and this was even shorter still. Then I came to the fourth tunnel. This was a different experience altogether.

The fourth tunnel started out the same as the others. The road was fairly flat but the road turned to the left after a few hundred metres as the light began to fade. I switched on my lights for the first time and continued on. The light continued to dim and the tunnel became colder and colder. As the light disappeared completely I realised that I could no longer see further than a few metres ahead and I could hear the sound of icy water running down the walls and dripping from the ceiling. Now I could not even see my hand in front of my face. I was in total darkness inside this cold, wet, icy tunnel. As I could no longer see anything, I had to stick my right leg out to the side to feel the tunnel wall as I pushed myself along slowly. I began to wonder what would happen if a car or worse, a lorry were to come hairing down the tunnel now. Damn it, Josie Dew was right. The words of her tale were going through my mind as I considered the state of my mind for putting myself in this position. Thankfully the lights came into view about ten or fifteen minutes later and I breathed a sigh of relief as not only could I see the exit but no vehicles had passed by whilst I was in this horrid tunnel. I exited the tunnel and pulled over at a conveniently placed picnic spot to regroup. I was shaking badly. That had been the most terrifying thing I had ever done. I took the photograph above and got out the stove to re-fuel.

Suitably re-fuelled, I jumped back in the saddle and continued on, thankful that the tunnel experience was done. Then I saw yet another tunnel sign! I prepared myself as I approached it but as I got closer I could read exactly what was written on it. I took the above photograph so you can see for yourself! It was the Fjaerlands tunnel, 6390m long! I was terrified.

Here I was, already shaken up from the previous tunnel that was less than half the length of this one and I had to do it again, but this time I knew it would be even worse. I spent a few minutes wondering what to do. Should I go back the same way and find another route? Or do I face my fear and take the plunge. I did not want to be beaten, so I managed to convince myself that if I do this, it will make me a much stronger person and will give me more confidence going forward in life. I told myself that it will make me a better dad, a better husband, a better man. I convinced myself of all of this nonsense, jumped back on board and made my way into the tunnel.

Please join me tomorrow as I re-tell the story of a most terrifying experience and head further inland towards the snowy Jotunheimen mountains.

Until then stay wonderful

STEEMONKEY🐒