Click to watch the video (I can’t seem to embed into WordPress)

Rallarvegen is an old service road built for the construction of the rail line built from Flåm to Myrdal and has been converted into a biking trail. Converted should be used loosely given the number of large rocks waiting to throw a biker, but this is Norway. I took an early morning train from Oslo to Haugastol and nearly had a wipe out when my tires found the tram tracks. Once there, the rest of the crew gathered and we started off on the 80 ride to Flåm. Just after lunch, we made it to Finse, which is Norway’s highest railway station at 1222 metres above sea level.

After Finse, we ran into a group of marathon runners, but this wasn’t a normal marathon. They started at sea level in Flam and ran out of the valley with nearly nearly a full mile in elevation gain. After a good dinner near a small lake, it started to rain, and we looked for a camping spot. One group found a cave, while I pitched a tarp against two bikes for shelter.

We were startled in the middle of the night when a fox started stealing food from inside the tarp. I was using the food bag as part of my pillow and that stupid fox still managed to take it. Thankfully, it wasn’t able to eat through the food bag, but it did puncture my apple.

The second day was absolutely incredible. According to visitnorway.com,

The final 20 km goes through Flåmsdalen, a valley famous for its beauty and Northern Europe’s most exciting railway journey. The line falls 865 m over the course of the valley. The upper section has 21 sharp curves, and at this part it is wise to get off your cycle and walk!

It was so beautiful, we rarely stopped to take pictures. Those 20 km were simply spectacular. I’ve never had more fun on a bicycle.

Also, Amber wrote a very good entry with lots of great pictures about the trip here and here. It’s certainly worth clicking over to see.

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In Norway, snow lingers through April and sometimes May each year. So, Norway’s “spring” sports are really winter sports in disguise.  Lucky for me, the Winter Olympics provided an excellent way to understand this Norwegian obsession.  At the suggestion of my co-workers, I watched the traditional Norwegian events: cross-country skiing, biathlon, and ski jumping.

The newly reconstructed Holemkollen Ski Jump on Opening Night

Cross-Country Skiing

Given my mis-adventures cross-country skiing, I thought it wise to take lessons from the Olympians, themselves. So, I made plans to tune into one of the first ski events, the men’s 15km “sprint”. The competition had 95 racers, each beginning one minute after the other. Yes, it really took over an hour for the race to begin. Seriously, who could actually watch this?!   Not me, I had to changed the channel. Eventually, I returned to the race, mainly to watch the Norwegian superstar, Petter Northug, All the newspapers had been whispering predictions of Petter sweeping the cross-country events. Midway through the race, Mr. Norway was already two minutes behind the leaders. He didn’t improve, and finished 41st. Immediatley, theories started appearing. The most popular was the wax. Huh? Wax? Would LT blame his cleats? Pujols the pine tar? Or LeBron the backboard? Well, apparently the wax guy was Swedish. Ummm… that’s just weak sauce.

I had to give cross-country spectating one more try to redeem itself with the men’s relay. I learned from last time and tuned in late. Of course, this time everyone started together, and I feared I had missed a full leg of the relay. At the 15 minute mark, a note appeared “Leg 1 – 6.3km”. What?? This is just Leg 1? Oh no, I’ve got at least another hour of racing. Well, at least I didn’t miss first exchange, which I imagined to be as critical as the baton hand-off in the 4×400 track relay.

Finally, 30 minutes into the race, the leg 1 skiers touched their teammates’ shoulders and off they went. That was it?? I was hoping for an exchange of poles, maybe even skis. Now, that would be a relay. The race soon got interesting when a half dozen skiers broke from the “pelton”. Actually, cycling is very analogous both in terms of distance and “why am I watching this” factor. Still, I was entranced. It’s embarrassing, I know, but these athletes fought each hill as if it was the last (and I was secretly hoping so, too).

The Swedes eventually took a commanding lead in the 3rd leg and Norway drifted 45 seconds off medal range. Norway’s anchor for the 4th leg was none other than Wrong Wax, Petter Northug. To my complete surprise, Petter closed the gap to 15 seconds with 5km to go. I guess the new wax guy was Norwegian (or Mr. Miyagi) Now, I was hooked. How could someone go that fast on skis? With less than 1km to go, there was a 3-way contest for 2nd place. In the last 100km, Petter blew past the Czech and French teams to win the silver. Still, the Norwegians were doubly insulted; they didn’t win gold and the Swedes did. Me? I was just astonished that watching cross-country skiing on TV could be entertaining for 5 minutes let alone 100. I know, it’s embarrassing.

Biathlon

If cross-country can be entertaining by itself, then imagine adding guns! Yeah, biathlon is just cool.  Enough said.

Ski Jumping

Taking Flight One of the first jumpers of the night. The best jump was about 130m (25m beyond where we stood)

Last week, some fellow trainees and I ventured out to watch the inaugural jumps off the on the reconstructed Holmenkollen ski jump. On the way over, I decided I could set a world record if I jumped with a fully-padded marshmallow suit to cushion the landing. I mean, it can’t be that hard, right? As we walked up the hill, the massive steel-concrete structure grew bigger and bigger, and I felt smaller and smaller. Ok, maybe I’m a bad example, I can feel small next to an ant, but I bet even Yao Ming would feel small next to Holmenkollen. When Anette Sagen made the historic first jump, everyone cheered, and I immediately reconsidered my marshmallow idea. Did you know they fly over a full football field?! No marshmallow suit will save my bones from that kind of impact. Anyway, we stayed to watch another 10 jumps and called it quits early because of the cold (15F with wind isn’t standing weather). Yep, just a typical Spring week in Norway… it’s March Madness.

[inspiration comes from chatting with Aaron Brown about how the Aggies trounced his Longhorns in college hoops. It was so refreshing to talk real sports.]

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One of the rare upright moments on my first try

My goal is simply to stay up downhill and not slide down the uphills. Cross-country skis are thin and not made for manuvering like alpine skis, which makes descending difficult. To complicate matters, you typically ski in tracks (picture, grooves in the snow).  These tracks are basically “foot traps”.  Swift your balance incorrectly or let the ski catch the edge of the track, and you’ll end up face first on the ground with a smile of snow.

Cutting a groove: A snow plow prepares fresh tracks for skiing

Going uphill is even more difficult.  When done incorrectly, you slide backwards.  It’s very humbling to watch young kids sprint up hills the hill you’re struggling up.  In the time it took me to go 5 feet, a guy my age completed the whole hill.  I was speechless and tried to imitate his form, but it only produced more backsliding.  Needless to say, the sport is incredibly demanding and encapsulates much of the Norwegian culture.  It’s a ritual for Norway to take home multiple medals in XC.  Look for the same in Vancouver.  Not to be outdone, I’ve included some of my “medals” (i.e., the GPS tracks from the trips this season).

Team Building

I work with a team of six clever and friendly consultants/engineers and joined them for their annual team building a few weeks ago. This year’s trip was to the mountains for some skiing and relaxation. Being my first XC-skiing trip, I had no idea what to expect. The first few steps I tried to walk normally, and instead of moving, I stayed in the same place.  A very new and strange experience.  With each step, my foot would slide right back to the same spot. Madness! Eventually, I learned to glide, shift my weight, and use poles.  As soon as I began to feel comfortable, we ventured downhill, and I must have set a record for falls (about 10-20 times).  Toward the end, I finally got the hang of it and had an excellent time.

Sognsvann to Ullevålseter

I joined a few co-workers for a night of skiing at Sognsvann (sounds like, Song Swan). The first half has some challenging uphills. I was so happy to reach the top and refuel at a charming little cabin/caffe at Ullevålseter. The downhill was fast and fun. To my surprise, I only wiped out once.  Click on the icons for pictures (via www.skiforeningen.no).

Track near my Apartment

Yesterday (Saturday) I decided to take a solo trip to the tracks right next to my apartment. Thankfully, it wasn’t crowded, allowing me to go even slower and work on technique.   I don’t think it improved much, but it was fun (though exhausting!) On the very last downhill, I saw an elderly lady.  I tried to control my speed to avoid a collision (my #1 fear). In the process, I completely wiped out a full 15 yards away from her, which caused a very rare and pleasant conversation. Typically, it’s hard to start convesations with my neighbors, but that’s a story for another day. Here’s the track, which I completed counter-clockwise.

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“It’s a dangerous business going out your door.  You step
onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s not telling
where you might be swept off to.”

-Frodo, recalling the words of Bilbo Baggins, Lord of the Rings

The route to church requires 3 buses, which run every 30 to 60 minutes.  So, if you miss one, then you may as well go back home.  It also cost an extra $28 for bus fare (in addition to my monthly pass), but whose counting?   After (relatively) little trouble, I arrived at the 3rd bus stop in Sandvika and walked on the 761 to Skui. 

“Is this going to Tangum?” I asked.
“Tangen or Tanum,” he said. 
“Tangem [a slur of the two choices], I think? It’s spelled T-A-N-”. 
The driver interjected, “No, you want the 762 going to Tanum”. 
“Oh, thank you sir. Do you have a route map?” 
Studying the timetables and my gut, I asked the driver to open the door.  “I want to go here,” I replied.
He said, “oh, Tangen, well get on”

And with that, he refused to take my fare! Sweet! I saved $7; I could buy lunch with that [in Texas].  On the bus, I talked with a Somalian immigrant, who doesn’t like watching the news. “All you hear is people dying”, he said.  As I was getting off, he asked, “Do you know where your going?” I replied, “Sorta.  If I don’t, you’ll hear about it on the news, I guess.”

Would you find a church along a trail like this?

This is the spot where Nathan and I got lost last week.  I had studied the map carefully before leaving, but as usual, I left a good part of the details to chance. Going off instinct, I came to the trail leading to the church. Nobody had walked it in a few days, so I was packing inches of virgin snow.  Arriving at the church, I was startled to see no cars in the parking lot.  “Is joke?” I thought.  It’s Sunday, the only thing that’s supposed to be open is a church. But sure enough it was.  I recalled something on the website about a join service with another local Norwegian church to celebrate baptism at 1:30pm, but surely that didn’t replace the main service, right?? No, it did. 

Not wanting to stand around for 3 hours in the weather, I had limited options.  The bus back to Sandvika was coming soon, so if I hurried, so I hurried only to watched it drive off.   The next bus won’t be coming for another hour, and the idea of standing made me even colder. I decided to walk the 2 km to Sandvika without directions.  Hurray for a GPS!!  Unfortunately, it doesn’t give great walking directions, so I had to improvise.  It was working great until I hit a walker’s deadend.  The “sidewalk” was buried in 2 feet of snow and on my right was a tunnel and my left was a 4 lane highway. Which way to go??

The entrance to IBC the week before (notice the cars)

Checking traffic, I waited for the highway to clear.  Looking ahead, I caught a glimpse of more snow piles, but it didn’t look too bad.  I half-sprinted, anticipating ice patches, and threw myself at the guardrail keeping me from the median.  I wish I had leg extensions for moments like this.  Up and over, and DOWN.  Ughh, I was knee-deep in snow, but there wasn’t time to care. As traffic cleared, I ran (like a penguin) across the rest of the highway.  And then, I heard sirens!

I thought, “The cops? Really? Just my luck, I’m probably going to jail for this. Now, my Somalian friend is going to see me on the news! Geez, I’m just glad I did this on my own.” Those peaceful thoughts, I paraphrased all into in a single word.

Switching to a full sprint, I hoped to at least out run ‘em (works on TV!).  Only one obstacle remained – a 4-foot high concrete wall covered in fresh snow.  Throwing myself on the wall, I had to use my bare hands as support, as I pulled my legs up.  At the top, I looked back as the sirens grew closer.  A yellow ambulance flew past me.  Whew!! I wasn’t going to jail… today.

As the adrenaline diffused, I began thinking more clearly.  “Where are the witnesses?!?! Who is going to believe this? What is a Norwegian jail like anyway? And why isn’t at least one friend here to share this with me? And who really does something this stupid??”  Then, my hands began to burn from snow climbing. Ooohh, it was so cold.  Bare hands weren’t made for snow. 

Looking down my street (Søndre Rød). The apartment is on the far right

It would still be another 75 minutes before I made it home.  I missed the next bus by 2 minutes (again).  Luckily, there was a 7/11 equivalent open with a heater.  Later, as I walked to the final bus stop, I still 40 yards away when I saw it approaching.  I was not going to miss it. This half-frozen, half-crazed Texan probably would have beat Usain Bolt to the bus.  As I approached, the door closed just as I made eye contact with the driver.  And then, it magically opened. Perhaps my miserable face made him reconsider leaving me.  Sweet Victory.  It’s funny how quickly a day of mis-adventures can be forgotten by catching one bus.

(photo credit to Nathan)

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My apartment (it’s the white building in the center of view)

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DNV Campus
The DNV campus didn’t receive full coverage, but here’s a picture of the security gate, which was probably responsible for the lack of coverage. I’m kinda sad about this because the campus is absolutely gorgeous. The land was given to DNV for free on the grounds that it would be kept as a public park. Doesn’t it look nice?

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Downtown Røa

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The new Opera House

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Vigelandsparken
From Wikipedia, “The park covers 80 acres (320,000 m2) and features 212 bronze and granite sculptures created by Gustav Vigeland. Vigeland personally sculpted every figure out of clay and individual craftsmen were contracted to fabricate the pieces into what they are today. These works of art reside along an 850 meter-long axis divided into six sections: The Main Gate, The Bridge, The Children’s Playground, The Fountain, The Monolith Plateau and the Wheel of Life.” And oh yeah, they’re all nude. This is Norway.

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Nobel Peace Prize
If you have romantic notions of the Noble Peace Prize, then you may not want to look at this StreetView. Maybe looks can be deceiving?

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Norwegian Roadside
Here’s just a random photo from the Norwegian country-side on the highway from Oslo to Bergen. I really can’t wait for the snow to melt!

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