This was not a climbing trip, yet I did one of the best long
routes I have ever done.
I had never heard of Lofoten, until about 2 weeks before hitching
along the island chain.
I do like surprises!
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| Nordic summer |
Sunset-less days in the Arctic Circle. Midnight soloing without
a headlamp. Overhanging granite with pockets. A Marilyn Manson concert, for
free, in an amusement park. A few of the novelties now in my memory bank, that
I can’t really claim credit for experiencing. Granted, I grabbed the chance,
but I certainly did not orchestrate it being there for the taking.
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| Overlooking Henningsvaer: bridge heaven |
We have calendars, we make lists, we dream, we plot, we
plan, we sacrifice, we invest, we wait. I have no quarrel here, it usually requires
dedication to achieve goals. Yet, despite all attempts to maximise our lives,
how firmly do we actually hold the reigns? Furthermore, how much in control do
we really want to be? Some of the best things I have done required hard graft and
preparation. However, just as many fantastic opportunities literally flopped
out of the ether and required no more than a little courage to pick them up
before they wriggled off.
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| Reine and surrounds, it is hard to take a bad photo, even for me |
Let me elaborate. I had planned to go back to Australia for another dirtbag stint. It had been a rough few months and I just wanted
drop off the radar. I knew the drill, it was a safe option. Low risk, high
reward. For years I have been wanting to return to do some of the spectacular
routes at the Eureka Wall in the Grampians. I had unfinished projects at
Arapiles. Flights booked way ahead, friends contacted months in advance, tick
lists scribbled. I was in conductor mode and the orchestra seemed set to play.
Then the unexpected: I met a great travel companion, I ended
up in ICU, had a heart operation, planned a trip to Turkey, another visit to an
emergency room, cancelled the Istanbul tickets, had further tikker surgery,
jetted to Stockholm, took a train to a starless wonderland, got a gap in the
rain, tagged with a partner-less climber, romped up a 500m cliff and witnessed
a spectacular mixing of orange rays and turquoise waters at the witching hour.
Not bad for an opportunist. If things don’t go according to
plan, just enjoy the flow, you never know where it will take you…
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| The Midight Sun |
For those who like the granular detail:
I have a certain penchant for novelty. The unusual. The
quizzical. For example, the Big Baobab boasts a pub inside its trunk. Barely
functional but vastly quirky, and certainly worth the effort. If you like the
odd. Several years ago, I saw images of 3am-bouldering dappled with Nordic
sunlight. While not consciously, the idea-seed of climbing under a midnight sun
had been planted. By luck, some dominoes fell right and I ended up at the base
of Vespillaren with Megan at 4pm. Combined
with a fortuitous break in the rain, this also happened to be one of the best
long routes of its grade in the Northern Hemisphere. Minimal planning, maximum
benefit. Not only did I get to top out at 11:55pm in the sun, but above 12
pitches of absolutely sublime granite cracks. A truly world class line that I
had never really planned to do. I don’t know about brave, but fortune does seem
to favour those who put themselves in a position to be favoured.
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| Approaching Vespillaren. Photo: Megan Beaumont |
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| The first of many great pitches |
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| One of the many great pitches |
The perpetual light also got me mulling over that most
puzzling of entities. Time.
We have clocks everywhere. On cell phones, computers, church
towers, kitchen walls, train stations, car dashboards, radios, TV, neck
pendants, microwave ovens and old school ovens. Hours and minutes are shoved at
you with metronomic regularity. The rhythm of the calendar, the beat of the
diary. The scheduled life: back-to-back appointments while running errands
during lunch. We are the robots telling ourselves when we can and can’t be
free, and yet, when finally we stumble across that most Holy Grail of ‘time to
ourselves’, we are completely exhausted, and slump down in front of yet another
screen, that will invariably, be telling us the time. Tick Tock.
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| Nature is timeless. Photo: Laleh Akbaynoor |
So the grand irony plays out, when after months of slaving
away, Mr Everyman finally gets his allocated amount of holiday, where time is
finally his own. As if it never was in the first place.
Our week of constant daylight whittled the significance of
clock time. 9am was just like 15:36pm which could equally be 1:42am. The
glowing orb simply bobbing along the horizon, not a care in the universe, while
we had not a care in Norway. Time will march on ad infinitum, but we are not
beholden: the only shackles we have are self-imposed. In a place like Loften it
is easier to feel this freedom, but it exists everywhere.
Don’t worry about time, it sure isn’t worrying about you.
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| Feeling free while sport climbing at Eggum. Photo: Laleh Akbarynoor |
On the way back from the bizzare granite bowl of Eggum, I
caught a ride with an elderly local. Laleh and Megan got a lift with his wife
in the decidedly more fancy of the two cars. He spoke very little English, and
my Norwegian is as existent as political integrity. We gesticulated about the
weather, and other topics of small talk, but without the talk. As the rusted, russet
van rattled on, the scenery was nearly giving my retinas an orgasm. I smiled. The
radio was probably twice my age, with both tiny and tinny speakers. The next
song was ‘Nothing Else Matters’. Indeed, at that moment in time, those words
were the truest that could be said, thought or just accepted.
How you got to where you are is just history, planned or
otherwise. Luck, fate, chance, destiny - does it matter?
Not to me.
The joy of where you are, what you are doing, and who you
are there with, is all that really matters.
Nothing else.
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| Midnight solo on the Rock and Roll Ridge |
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| Yet another great pitch! |
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| Not your stereotypical island paradise. Photo: Megan Beaumont |
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| A stiff warm up. Photo: Laleh Akbarynoor |
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| In winter skiing is a big thing, apparently. |
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| The best things may be a surprise, so you might as well act surprised. |
Huge thanks to Laleh for an amazing trip, to Megan for some great climbing, to Jim, Dave and Tanja for fun while hanging at Bobil Camping and to all the cool folks I met in Stockholm. Oh, and to all the many strangers we hitchhiked with :)
Big up to Outward Ventures for supporting my adventures.
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| Photo: Laleh Akbarynoor |
