Cycle Touring Norway Part 1: Trolltunga

In the summer of 2019, I spent a month cycle touring 2,500 km through Norway, from the southern city of Bergen to the Arctic city of Tromsø. In this video, I share my experience of taking my touring bike to one of the most iconic locations in Norway – Trolltunga.

Map of Norwegian tunnels that cyclists can and can’t use: https://www.cycletourer.co.uk/maps/tunnelmap.shtml

The narrative in the video is based on my book about the trip, Cycling Norway: From Trolltunga to Tromsø, available on Amazon (Kindle and paperback): https://amzn.to/3cGVjr8

Arial shots taken on DJI Mavic Air:

https://amzn.to/3iEBEfa

https://click.dji.com/APStdXk3GJzUClI…

Ground shots taken on DJO Osmo:

https://amzn.to/3giO9vj

https://click.dji.com/ANx_onjpjKjK9Iy…

As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

My route to Trolltunga from Bergen:
Day 1a: https://www.strava.com/activities/2445049154
Day 1b: https://www.strava.com/activities/2445377421
Day 2: https://www.strava.com/activities/2447416565
Day 3: https://www.strava.com/activities/2450708287

I cycle tour in a different country every few months, with the aim of cycling 50,000 km in 50 countries. For more cycling stories from around the world, subscribe to my channel! And follow me on Instagram (Island_Rides) and Facebook (IslandRides1)!

#cyclingnorway #cycletouringnorway #bikepackingnorway #cylingtrolltunga #trolltunga

one summer i settled to arrive from bergen a city in the south of norway trumps a city in the north also known as the capital of the arctic i gave myself a month to ride to two and a half thousand kilometers between these two cities camping along the way in the wild as much as possible rather than start this ride of the arctic circle by heading north i instead made my way south and east the reason was simple i wanted to see a rock eleven hundred meters above sea level trolltanger or troll tongue in english projects out into an abyss with nothing below but empty space for seven hundred meters located near order a field side town 170 kilometers from bergen getting to the trail would take me a few days on my first day i rode until the sunset which was just before midnight later in the trip further north the sun didn’t set at all when darkness finally came that first night i put up my tent on a large rock beside a river and slept until the sun returned on my second and third days i followed the coast of hardangerfield one of the longest viewers in the world the road passes enormous cliffs and waterfalls which descend from desolate glacial plateaus far far above it was early afternoon by the time i made it to the start of the ascent which begins with a steep road from the village of tisdale i quickly noticed that while many people were coming down a few others were hang up i rode until i could know more and began to push as hard as it was getting my 40 kilos of bike and stuff up that road things were about to get a lot harder at 800 meters the road ended and the trail began as it first crossed little streams and traversed big smooth boulders but before long i was faced with the prospect of climbing an enormous rock staircase that led up into the clouds no come on bro said one man a horrified look in his face he mimed locking my bike to a tree as he continued on his way down it’s impossible said another man staggering back down after his climb to the top one girl just stopped dead and stared as i clambered past with my bike is it far i asked just to break the silence uh yeah she said astounded by my naivety it was early evening when i reached a plateau i started along a mud path that ran beside small lakes formed from melting ice my bike and i were now a thousand meters above sea level and the path occasionally disappeared between patches of snow everyone else was gone dark clouds materialized and a cold rain began to fall and i remembered reading about all the people that need rescuing from the trails each year i started to question whether i had been too blase about my little expedition maybe all the comments and stares of those coming down were justified i reassured myself that if the weather worsened further i could set up my tent put on some warm clothes and wait it out but the rain eased and the clouds dispersed when i arrived at the end of the plateau an immense blue lake came into view far below it was filled by whispering waterfalls that fell from towering cliffs the cliff tops were snow white though the area around the lake was pine green i record the most beautiful landscapes i had ever seen and ordered to myself as i thought yeah this might take first place still several kilometers from trollsnew i staggered onwards my head hanging over my chest my eyes vaguely directed at the sludge below i realized when i looked up i had lost the red paint markers that lead the way setting my bike down i trudged the top of the mound to see where i was near the edge of a cliff beyond which with the lake and the waterfalls i’d seen earlier now hours before i never saw norway any darker than i did then i was in the south and the pink of twilight had enveloped the surrounding white peaks i had an idea of which way to go but had had enough for one day i located a patch of flat ground between two pools of melted snow sat on my tent and resolved to keep going the next day in the morning to light up my load i left my tent and some things behind i kept my bike with me however i was determined to join the ranks of the few foolish enough to bring a bike to chorzonga with less weight to carry and most of the elevation already gained the beauty of the landscapes eclipsed whatever pain i felt a lept between rocks surrounded by glimmering pools until at last chaltong came into sight it was barely mid morning but already several people were there i handed my phone to the young ukrainian guy when i arrived and got in line to have my picture taken when my turn came i walked my bike to the tip of the tongue and sat with my feet over the edge nothing but air below for 700 meters i turned towards the ukrainian waved hopped on my bike then rolled back to the base of the rock i didn’t hang around after the growing crowds of which i was apart diminished my sense of all it made me uneasy to see that majestic rock which i imagined had enjoyed its previous solitude treated as a mere stage for posing tourists besides i still have to pick up my tent and start the long hike back down