Day 84 – to just west of Skammestein (Valdres Nature Park)

The ‘Sognefjellet’, as route 55 is known as, is a 140 kilometre scenic route, a mountain pass that connects Sognefjorden in the west to Ottadalen in the east. In the summer it is extremely popular with tourists. It was one of the most memorable days of my bike journey here in 2016.

I had been camped up at 980 metres at Bøverkinnhalsen, and today hoped to drive west, over the highest points of the road, to Turtagro.

I had received an email from Sally and Ian overnight though, that said they had only just been able to get over the road’s highest section, due to settled snow. At its highest point the road reaches 1440 metres. On the final climb there are steep hairpins with gradients of 20% in places.

A German van followed me, both of us at a snail’s pace as we climbed, gradually for twenty kilometres or so, as the snow that had accumulated on the road became greater. They packed in before me. I was on the final approach when I lost traction. Chains would have helped, but much of the van’s weight is at the rear and of course, it’s front wheel drive.

I reversed relatively easily, managed an 8 point turn, and retreated.

I saw the young German couple and we had a good smile about our attempts. They were in a rental campervan, which concerned them, though I said that it was preferable to it being their own.

The option was to take route 51, also renowned for its scenery in the summer, and also it climbs high, with a large part of it above 1000 metres, and 1389 metres at its highest. Once again, the snow accumulated on the road above 900 metres, and it had snowed heavily pretty much all day today. But the gradient was much less, ranging from 6 to 10%. There was more snow on the road here on 51, but my tyres managed relatively easily. Though I did pass a car of four young lads that had gone off the road. It had dropped more than 10 metres, so I’m sure was a write-off, but there was no immediately visible damage. I stopped, and then a few others did, but the occupants were fortunately unhurt (quite incredible really) and already had help coming.

It was a slow descent to 800 metres, then gradually a little quicker as the road cleared, though the temperature was still below zero, through the tourist ski town of Beitostølen, and then west. By this time I was ready to stop, and found a place suitably off the minor road from Skammestein, and the dog and I grabbed 40 minutes exercise before the Sunday rugby.