The cycle tour in 2006 we decided to make within Norway. We had in fact never been to the coastal areas between Trondheim and Bodø before. A lot has been done to promote cycling along this coast line, and the choice was not too difficult to make. The coast of Helgeland, as this area is called, is not as well known as Lofoten, that lies farther to the north, but we had already cycled in Lofoten, so this time we went for Helgeland.

The next decision that had to be made, was what direction we should cycle. Should we cycle northwards or southwards? How were we  to travel with our cycles to or from this region. We made up our minds to cycle northwards because if we got bad weather, the wind would come from the south and west, and we should get a favourable tail wind. The rain does not feel so wet and hard if it comes from behind. On the Norwegian railway it was possible to obtain tickets for 300 NOK each all the way from Bodø to Bergen. The condition was that the whole journey had to be made without any breaks apart from the changing of trains. That meant we had to spend altogether 25 hours in trains. I preferred the railway, but Turid wanted to travel more swiftly, and she went back by plane. However she had to pay a lot more. Turid is the wife of the writer of this cycle report whose name is Terje.

The next question was how to reach Helgeland and the starting point of our cycle tour. Turid wanted to go by plane to Namsos, which is a good point to start the cycle tour on quiet roads with a lot of  beautiful scenery. From Turid I got the permit to start the cycle tour two weeks before her and to cycle all the way from Bergen to Bodø, which also included cycling between Bergen and the meeting point Namsos.
 

•  Roads out of Bergen 
•  Along historical sites 
•  Polish cyclists and a very special railway 
•  Rain and wind and the spooky mr spokesman 
•  Turid arrives and we visit the island of Jøa 
•  The next island: Leka 
•  On the strand flat and mr spokesman again 
•  The island of Vega 
•  The next island: Dønna 
• Rødøy, yet another island and Bodø 

Thirty kilometres east of  the agglomeration Knarvik the main road E 39 is closed to cyclists as it goes through a 7 km long tunnel. There are two more alternatives, which are suitable for cyclists, but each of them includes one more ferry than the E 39 does. On the other hand, the traffic is much more moderate outside the E 39. One way is to head straight to the north from Knarvik and take the ferry Leirvåg-Sløvåg. The other choice is to cycle on the E 39 and branch off to the north towards Masfjorden, where a cable ferry will take you across the fjord. I took the latter option, but that was not a wise decision as the road turned out to be very hilly, in fact much more hilly than I remember it from the last time I cycled here in 1989.
 
 

In the nice and hot weather I came to the lake Jølstravatnet. Instead of going along the busy E 39 I could take a minor road along the southern shores of this lake. On the day when I was cycling along that lake all motor traffic was gone because a marathon run was organized. I just saw to it that I kept a good distance to the runners so that I would not disturb them in their effort. I passed the home of Nicolai Astrup, the grand painter of Western Norway. His former home is now a museum. In his home some of his famous paintings could be admired, but most of them are exhibited in galleries in Bergen and Oslo. You can look at his paintings on  http://www.nicolai-astrup.com/gallery1.htm
 
 

In the evening I had reached the ferry point Anda, and I felt it was time to find a place to pitch the tent. As I was searching along the shores of the fjord I passed a group of Afghan immigrants who were having a picnic on the rocky shores. I told them I was looking for a place for my tent, and I soon found myself in a conversation. They invited me to try Afghan food. It was very tasty, and not so hard spiced as Indian food. One of the men began to speak about ages. He asked how old I was, and then he asked me to guess how old the various men in the group were. Then he asked me to guess how old the women were. That was of course very embarrassing. Fortunately they were not wearing burkhas, but it was bad enough to look them into their faces and their eyes and try to guess their age. Whether I hit the right age or if I was badly mistaken, they did not tell me. Anyway they were nice people and we spoke a lot. I felt very well in their company.
 
 

Along historical sites.
From Hornindal I headed towards Hellesylt. Along the road I passed a location that has been used as an illustration on the cover of the British book "Cycling for you" by Ronald English. This was the first book about cycling that I ever bought. In the 1960's I was very delighted to see that there were other people who also were interested in cycle touring. I was not alone in the world with such an interest. The Cyclists' Touring Club of Britain used to organize cycle tours in Western Norway with the title "The Eagle's Road". The route would take the cyclists past this place in Hornindal. Look at the typical British saddle bags of the early 1960's. You might have some difficulties in recognizing the identical location of the two pictures, one taken early in the 1960's and one in 2006. It was Helge Raftevold who told me where the picture on the front page of mr. English' book comes from. Although there are new buildings and the grass is not dried in the traditional way any more, the mountains remain the same. Cyclists should notice that in the 1960's practically all roads in Western Norway were gravel roads.
 
 

The illustration on an (Ronald) English cycle book of early 1960's.

The same location 2006. Unfortunately it is difficult to observe the bicycle on this picture.

Do you still remember that I used the old post road between Bergen and Trondheim in order to get out of the town of Bergen? Along the road to Hellesylt I saw many old bridges of this historical road. Honndøla bridge is an impressive bridge from the 18th century. It has been restored. Because I did not take any picture of it, I have imported a picture from Daniel Zwick who cycled here in 2009. You can read about his cycle tours here.
 

Honndøla bridge, a restored bridge on the old post road between Bergen and Trondheim.

Polish cyclists and a very special railway.
From Hellesylt I did not take the ferry to Geiranger, as I already knew this way, I continued northwards to Stranda. This road passes through many tunnels, and the openings between the tunnels offered me nice views of the fjord towards Geiranger. In Stranda I met three young cyclists from Poland. Of course I contacted them because it is always nice to talk to other touring cyclists. They were heading towards Ålesund, and as I had not cycled that road before, I suggested that we cycled together for some kilometres. I would then cycle back to Stranda along another route. On the picture you can see that they had plenty of luggage. To the left is Tomek, then Danuta and to the right Konrad. Konrad Konieczny was the leader of the "expedition" to the western fjords of Norway, and he had quite ambitious plans to see all the famous sites in Western Norway. That would of course involve much of climbing in the hilly fjord area. Konrad is an ardent admirer of Norway. He speaks Norwegian well, and he knows a lot about Norwegian history. He edits a portal about Norway on the internet with the address: http://www.norwegofil.pl    His cycle tours he has described on http://www.norwegia.republika.pl  It is all written in Polish, but if you click on the Norwegian flag, you will get his texts in  Norwegian   If you don't understand that language either, you can always look at his  "fotogaleria". His photos from the cycle tours are superb.
 
 

Tomek, Danuta and Konrad, three Poles cycling in the fjord country of Western Norway.

From Åndalsnes the three Polish youngsters had climbed the famous road Trollstigen with all its serpentines. I told them I was going to tackle that road from behind, because if I cycle from the south I can cycle downhill on the road Trollstigen. The Poles did not like to hear that, and they said I would not feel the famous Trollstigen the right way. I said the advantage of cycling from the south is that the road there is less steep and when I am going downhill on Trollstigen, I can avoid being an object of entertainment for the tourists in their cars.

In nice weather I cycled through the agglomeration Sunndalsøra with its aluminium plant, and when I was approaching Surnadal, I heard a shot from my wheel. I knew instantly what was wrong: A spoke had broken, and the wheel started rubbing the frame. Of course the broken spoke was on the wrong side, that is on the side of the free wheel. I always carry with me a device so that I can unscrew the free wheel, but I do not carry a big spanner for that would mean too much weight. Fortunately there was a house in the vicinity where I could ask for a spanner. Of course they had one because people who live in the countryside have to help themselves with all their repairs. The spoke was quickly replaced. Later the wheel and the spokes caused me more trouble although I had bought a new rear wheel just before I started on this cycle tour.
 
 

Not so far from Trondheim lie the pyrite mines of Løkken. They are not exploited any more, and in the oldest part of the mines tourists are guided on tours through the pits during the tourist season. More interesting than the old mines is the railway that once transported the pyrite down to the fjord at Thamshavn, named after the industrial entrepreneur who had the railway built in order to exploit the mines better. Today the railway conveys tourists during the summer months. The electric engine and the carriages look like railways a hundred years ago. The railway line is isolated from the Norwegian railway net. Apart from Denmark this is the only metre gauge railway that has existed in Scandinavia. The railway was one of the world's first railways to be electrified with alternating current, and the frequency is very unusual: 25 hertz. Because the lights in the train are supplied from the traction power, you can see the flickering of the light in the front lamp of the engine. The flickering can also be observed  in the lamps inside the carriages. You can read more about this railway on http://www.folk-rovere.org/mj/tb_artikkel_eng.php
 
 

Another fact would be of interest for railway enthusiasts. The supplies of pyrite for the ammunition industry in Germany were very vital for the Germans during World War II. As the electric engines of the Thamshavn railway were exposed to sabotage,  the Germans brought in some steam engines from the metre gauge network in Germany. Two large tank engines were shipped to the Thamshavn railway. Those were two 2-10-2T engines, numbered 99 221 and 99 223. The engine with the number 99 222  is still in operation on the famous Harzquerbahn in Germany. Unfortunately the two engines brought to Norway were scrapped in the 1950's.
 
 

Rain and wind and the spooky mister spokesman.
From the Thamshavn railway I cycled northwestwards along the shores of the Trondheim Fjord. After a ferry to Blakstad I continued to the north. I chose this route because I had never been here before. The area is called Fosen. Last winter there was a very hard rain over this part of Norway and I had to admit that I had never before heard of these places mentioned in the news. Ironically enough, I encountered much bad weather myself when I visited this area which had had devastating amounts of rain. The bridge at Åfjord that had been swept away by the large quantity of water in the river, had now been replaced by a temporary bridge. From there I had 60 km to cycle to the destination of that day. It was raining and blowing terribly. Fortunately, the wind came from the south west, and I had a favourable tail wind. It was a right decision to cycle to the north and going back by train and not doing it the other way round. I was lucky that the spokes caused no trouble in this bad weather. I would have had trouble to replace broken spokes in this weather along roads where there were no houses to be seen.
 
 

When I arrived at Osen camping the rain had stopped, but there was still a very hard, nasty west wind. I asked for a protected place where I could pitch my tent. The man at the camping site offered me a hut for the same price as the tent would have cost. I was very happy about that. Suddenly I heard a cracking sound from my bicycle. It was the mysterious mr spokesman spooking again. A spoke had been broken while the bicycle was just standing there. I changed the spoke, and I could borrow a spanner at the camping. In the evening I had a chat with a man who knew a lot about repairing bicycles. He had even been a member of the Norwegian technical staff at the world championship in cycling. Next morning I saw that the spokesman had been spooking at my bicycle again. There were so many uneven tensions in the wheel that it would cause me trouble if it was not adjusted. In my desperation I asked the man who knew how to repair bicycles. He was immediately ready to help me. He slackened all the spokes of the wheel and with his fingers he felt that they were evenly slackened. He touched the spokes just as sensitively as an artist playing his harp. Then he tightened the spokes and adjusted the spokes so that the wheel had no side play. He spent a whole hour helping me. Then he said: "Try it now", and he was gone. I felt so relieved and I was so grateful to that man. I should have thanked him a lot more than I did. Can you imagine how lucky I was? At a camping at an isolated location along the coast of Norway there was incidentally a man who could adjust a cycle wheel, and he turned up right at the moment when he was needed.
 
 

Turid arrives and we visit the island of Jøa.
From the camping at Osen I cycled in nice weather without any more incidents to the town of Namsos. Today was the day when I was to meet Turid in that town. She arrived at the little air field just outside the built up area. We celebrated the rendevouz with a nice dinner at a restaurant in town and afterwards I invited Turid into the tent where I had slept alone on my tour from Bergen. From now on the real vacation on bicycles could begin. We were to cycle only short distances each day, and Turid brought even more civilization to the lives of cycling and camping in the form of radio and mobile phone. On the radio we could listen to the weather reports because we were now entering a period with really bad weather. Instead of cycling on the main road no. 17 all the time, we made detours to various islands. The first island to be visited was Jøa. It is a delightful island to cycle on. There are few cars, and the distances are short on well kept gravel roads. On the internet I had found some pages describing the good conditions for cycling on that island. People are very nice, and each time when we met someone they said "hey". Even the local hippy uttered some sounds in this direction. Next to a hotel there was an informal camping place, and camping guests were allowed to use toilets and a kitchen in the basement of the hotel. In the night we had much rain, and the wind got very hard. Finally we had to evacuate the tent and we carried all our things, including the tent into the basement of the hotel, where we slept on the floor. You can find information about cycling on Jøa, but in Norwegian only.
 
 

Turid along gravel roads on Jøa. We had some sun shine in between the showers.

The next island: Leka.
Next morning we continued our cycle tour towards the north. The rain had stopped, but there was a hard and cold westerly wind. From Jøa we went by scheduled express catamaran to Abelvær, and from there we cycled on. We had a very strong tail wind, and we made good progress. In order to take advantage of the wind I sat upright on my bicycle. Bang! There he was again, the spooky mr Spokesman. Again I had to remove the free wheel. Fortunately, there was a house near the road where I could borrow a spanner. Then I realized I should never sit upright on my bicycle, always lean forward and distribute the weight of my body on both wheels. Since then I never heard anything more from mr Spokesman.

In Kolvereid, while Turid was at the shopping centre, I was waiting outside, and at this meeting place of the local population I heard people complaining about the weather, saying they had had a bad summer last year and this summer seemed to be even worse. I asked them about camping sites along the road ahead. On this occasion I heard that the road had been blocked by an avalanche. The whole road had been swept away, and it was impossible to pass the site even by carrying the bicycles. I thought we had rather not try. It would be too hard if we had to go back. We could have made a detour to reach the island of Leka, but the wisest thing to do was to spend the night at Kolvereid and cycle to Rørvik. From there we could take the scheduled catamaran express directly to the island of Leka. Next day on cycling towards Rørvik and the west, the wind from the day before was much weaker, and we did not have to fight against the hard westerly wind that had pushed us forward the day before. In Rørvik we visited a new museum depicting life along the Norwegian coast. The exhibits are very instructive.
 

Cycle tour on the rainy island of Leka

On the strand flat and mr spokesman again.

We were approaching the small town of Brønnøysund. On this day we still had some showers, and the bus sheds along the road were good for shelters when we had our meals. Along the coast of Norway there is unusually a rim of flat land, called the strand flat. It is on this rim of flat land that you will find the settlements, and the strand flat is mostly cultivated. We could cycle on a rather flat road along agricultural grass land. Near the little settlement Berg Turid cried out: "There is something fundamentally wrong with my bicycle!" Because of my experience with that kind of trouble, it did not take me long to find out what was wrong. This time mr Spokesman had attacked Turid's bicycle. Of course the broken spoke was on the free wheel side of the wheel. Turid's free wheel is of another type than on my bicycle. On my bicycle I have to unscrew the whole free wheel cassette. On Turid's bicycle it is enough to remove a lock ring and remove the sprockets. The problem was that I did not have appropriate tools for this operation on Turid's bicycle. Again we were lucky. I had followed the advice of another cyclist on the internet. Rudi Morche  has written that he never screws the lock ring too hard, and so had I done too. It turned out that along the road near Brønnøysund I could remove the ring with a simple screw driver and my fingers. Quickly I replaced the broken spoke, and we could continue. This was absolutely the last sign from mr spokesman on our cycle tour.
 
 

From Brønnøysund we made another island hopping, this time without any ferry, as there was a bridge to the next island, where we reached an interesting natural phenomenon. It is a large hole right through a mountain. During the ice age the weight of the ice pressed the land down, and the waves of the sea had excavated a hole that lies about 100 metres above sea level of today, because when the pressure of the ice was gone, the land gradually rose. The excavating forces of the waves had been so effective that they had dug a hole right through the mountain. Of course the myths describe it differently, and fairy tales say it was a giant who shot an arrow through this mountain. In fact, you don't get a good impression of the hole if you stand in it yourself. I would need a photo of the whole mountain with the hole through it. That picture has been provided by a French cyclist who was cycling to theNorth Cape while Turid and I were cycling towards Bodø. On his way back south he went by ship to Trondheim, and from the ship he took a nice picture of the mountain and the hole.
 
 

The island of Vega.
From Brønnøysund we cycled on the strand flat northwards. For a change we experienced a  head wind from the north. The rain was gone and we had a clear sight of the scenery, islands to the left and steep mountains to the right. A ferry brought us to the island of Vega. On this island high, steep mountains rise in the south. The north is flat and belongs to the strand flat. The strand flat continues out into the sea in the shape of innumerable islands. This archipelago is on the UNESCO's World heritage list. We visited a museum where a special activity on this archipelago is exhibited. The archipelago is a true paradise for eider ducks. People prepare the nests for the birds, and the birds improve their nests with their soft feathers that were in turn collected by the population. The feathers are used as raw material for high quality eider downs.

While we were cycling along on this island, Turid had got certain ideas that she announced to me. "Can't we stay at this sea hotel tonight?" I protested and said it is not raining. "They serve real gourmet food, and the cook is the brother of a cook  famous from the TV, and besides I will pay for it all." I was still protesting, because this is not the style I am used to from my cycle tours, but I gave in, and we spent a real luxurious time at this nice hotel. For dinner we had three dishes with wine, and I don't know what Turid finally paid for this luxury.

Next day was the time for another activity. The tourist office offered sight seeing by bicycles. Of course we signed up for such a guided cycle tour. Turid and I were the only two cycle tourists to show up, and we had two ladies guiding us. In this way we learnt a lot about the island of Vega. First we learnt that not all people of this region are born sailors. One of the ladies had together with her husband had a fishing cutter, but she had to give up this profession because of sea sickness. As we were cycling along we saw signs of active agricultural life. Even new land was being cultivated. The agricultural activity was exclusively based upon cattle. We saw no sheep, because, as our guides told us, Vega was severely hit by contaminated down fall after the Chernobyl catastrophy, and there was no economy in buying external fodder for sheep. On the sight seeing tour the two guides showed us some prehistorical burial mounds and stone monuments; Vega has a long history and people have lived here on the coast long before viking times. Our guided cycle tour included a visit at an old trading place. We thanked our two guides for an interesting tour, and we said we hoped there will come more participants the next time so that this nice and interesting activity for tourists can go on.
 
 

The next island: Dønna
From Vega we took the ferry farther to the north and landed at Tjøtta. 20 kilometres ahead lies Alstadhaug. Both localities are well known from the history that every Norwegian has learnt at school. At Tjøtta lived a local chief who fought against the king who was later known as St. Olaf. Alstadhaug is famous as the home of the priest Petter Dass who wrote poems and songs in the 17th century. His songs are known and sung in Norway today. It was a bit surprising to see at the museum at Alstadhaug that Petter Dass is even known on the Faroe Islands and on Iceland.

Between these two locations, on the strand flat, we passed a Russian cemetery. During the war M/S Riegel, a German ship transporting troops was sunk by British bombers. The vast majority of the men who drowned were Russian prisoners of war. Over 2000 persons lost their lives. But at the cemetery over 7000 Soviet citizens are buried. During the war the Germans had many work camps where imprisoned Russian and Ukrainian people were forced to work. Many of whom lost their lives, and they were buried locally. In the 1950's however, Norwegian authorities decided that the Soviet bodies should be exhumed, transported to the cemetery between Tjøtta and Alstadhaug and buried again there. This disgraceful action was taken because at the time of cold war, Norwegian authorities wanted to prevent Soviets from travelling around in the country in order to visit cemeteries. They could be better controlled if they were to travel just to one cemetery.

For us it was again time for another island hopping. Just after Alstadhaug we cycled on board a ferry that brought us to the west, to Herøy. This community lies on many islands, and in order to reach the next large island we had to cross many bridges, that gave us apt views of the mountain range with its distinct summits that bear the name of the "Seven Sisters"
 

When we had passed all the bridges, we had come to the island of Dønna. On that island we did not find any camping. Turid prefers the comfort of camping sites, and she had insisted before we started our cycle tour that we stayed on camping sites. On Dønna we had to find a nice place to pitch a tent without the possibilities of cooking in a kitchen or watching the news on the TV in a common room.  Near the waterfront such a place was found where we had to cook our food with methylated spirits. It did not rain, but it was rather cold. The vicinity to the cold sea brought the temperatures down during the night.
 

On cycling back Turid complained that she had not slept so well in the tent the last night, and now she was feeling tired. She refused to spend another night in the tent although it was not raining. We ended up at a hotel, and as we were so desperate for accommodation we had to accept what was offered. We had to pay a lot at a place with rather low standards, poor service and not so good food. After breakfast, which we had to prepare for ourselves because breakfast was not included in the price at this hotel, we cycled towards the town of Sandnessjøen, which we reached by a ferry. I was not aware that in Sandnessjøen we were yet on another island, but finally when we had crossed a large bridge we reached the mainland.
 
 

After the crossing of the bridge we could cycle on towards Nesna. It was again easy going. In spite of no rain it was cold and the steady wind from the south west, typical of such weather, helped us along. North of Nesna we could avoid cycling around the fjord because at half past ten on Tuesday morning a ferry would call at Nesna. We were lucky that we happened to be there just on a Tuesday. Thus we could avoid a detour of 70 kilometres which would have included some long tunnels and a lot of climbing.
 
 

Rødøy, yet another island and Bodø.
The next ferry brought us across the Arctic Circle, and we ended up on the small island of Rødøy. In fact, the island was so small that there were hardly any roads on it. There was a nice hotel. The weather was not so inviting for camping. Next day we left our bicycles at the hotel and climbed a mountain. We were rewarded with a beautiful view of the archipelago. The summit was over 400 metres high, and as Turid and I had been cycling mostly on the strand flat, this summit was the highest point since we met at Namsos. I must admit we reached it without our bicycles. After Rødøy we had only two more days before our scheduled return journeys from Bodø. I would have liked to take a ferry to the mainland and cycle on for another day. Turid wanted to go by catamaran speed boat direct from the island of Rødøy to Bodø, and so we did. We arrived at Bodø not as cycle tourists as I had wanted to, so we did not have the nice feeling of reaching the final destination by our bicycles.