On Top of the World…

Nordkapp Weather for the 17th of August... The beacon I was heading for lies under the dark cloud... Not good...!!

At 8.00am the car park outside the Hotelli Inari was abuzz with excitement… The Italians and I loaded our gear onto our bikes, started our engines to let them warm up after a night of bitter cold, and then stood around stamping the ground and clapping our hands together to keep the circulation in our arms and legs going…

The sun shone brightly, and the weather report had said it would be “crisp and clear”, with a small chance of rain. It also mentioned something about a spot of wind throughout the day…

I had focused on the “crisp” part of the report, because, dear people, “crisp” here in the Arctic Circle, actually means “colder than a witch’s tit” back where we come from… The first time I had stepped out of the hotel to take the cover off the bike, the biting cold almost took my breath away, and the strong breeze seemed to pass right through me…

I had prepared myself for the cold and windy conditions that I would no doubt be experiencing today, by deciding to wear five layers on my upper body…! I felt like the bear I thought I heard in the room next door last night…!! Two long sleeve T-shirts, a windbreaker, my Rally-Pro jacket and my rain-coat, should have kept the cold out… It didn’t…!!

I bid the Italians good riding and goodbye, promising to see them on the “summit”, and rode slowly out of Inari, heading north into Lapland…

I tried to ignore the wind that plucked at me over the next 125 kms to Utsjoki on the Norwegian border, and this together with the biting cold, had me wondering if I should not have followed the shorter route which the Italians had chosen… To make matters even more stressful, the bike used more fuel fighting the wind than I had anticipated, and five kilometres from the border, we were down to zero… I coasted along in low revs, thinking that this was as dangerous a place to be caught out in the open, as the Sahara was… I had seen only two vehicles along the entire stretch, and hoped I would not have to do any walking to find fuel…

I think the bike is now used to my riding it into reserve, and has hidden a litre or two away to ensure that it is not left alone on some deserted country road, while I hike to fetch more fuel… We coasted into Utsjoki, a one-reindeer town if I ever saw one… A few houses, two petrol stations and a big general dealer, where the old guy behind the till refused to speak any English, although he understood mine perfectly… I decided that to avoid future stress, I would fill two of my fuel bottles, allowing me another 70 kms of range, should I get caught out again in the near future…

The winding, shallow and fast-flowing Tana River that forms part of the border between Finland and Norway...

Instead of following the road on the Norwegian side of the wide but fast flowing Tana River that separates the two countries, I would follow the road on the Finnish side to Karigasniemi, and set out along this winding and beautiful stretch of road, heeding the warning for moose and reindeer… Small herds of reindeer grazed near the river, and I saw a single moose standing in the water on the opposite bank, but it was too far away to get a photo of… All along this road are signs pointing the way to fishing camps and little wooden structures that are privately owned by Finns wanting an escape into the wilderness…

At the Norwegian border town of Karigasniemi... I still had a ways to go to reach Nordkapp...

The welcome was simple and to the point...

I crossed into Norway at Karigasniemi and took the E6 to Lakselv on the Porsangen Fjord. On the way, I  looked over at the mountains on my left and noted that they a light dusting of snow on their upper slopes… I hoped that no snow had fallen up at Nordkapp, otherwise I could see a bout of “fun and games” in store for me…

I stopped for a R12.00 cup of coffee at a pizza joint in Lakselv, and then barreled back onto the road, headed north around the western edge of the fjord… A steady rain began falling, making the going that more difficult, and the slippery conditions had us slowing down considerably… A massive rainbow formed right in front of me, and I took this as a positive sign for the hours of riding I had ahead of me…

Scandinavian Full House... The panniers get their 37th flag in Norway...

That ain't icing sugar, Dudes...!! Snow on the mountains had me a little concerned...

Traditional tepees of the Reindeer herders...

It drizzled intermittently for the next hour, while I steered the Big Fella through the high winds and the long curving road along the edge of the fjord.

We crossed through three tunnels, carved through the mountains to shorten what must once have been a very testing road along their edges…

I passed some of the tepee-like dwelling of the reindeer herders and traditional Norwegian nomads who lived off the land in days gone by…

The cold bore into me, and my hands began cramping… The icy wind seemed to tear right through me, despite all the clothing I wore… My feet were frozen inside my boots and I had to keep shaking them to get some life back into them…

At one point it felt as though all the elements were conspiring against me to make the ride to Nordkapp a well-earned one… They weren’t going to make it easy for anyone… After an hour of struggle, we turned off the E6 and onto the E69, which would take us all the way to the Top of the World, 140 km away… It took me almost two hours to ride this stretch…

Little homestead on the Fjord...

The scenery was breath-taking… Mountains dropped steeply into the icy blue waters of the fjords they lined… When the sun shone down on us, the water shone a Caribbean blue and at other times it was dark and forbidding… Herds of Reindeer grazed down to the water’s edge and up onto the slopes of the hills around me.

I stopped at a little picnic area to take a breather and reflect on the last section of road ahead of me… It was later in the day than I had hoped it would be, and in the afternoons, the wind takes things up a few notches, howling through all the valleys and gullies, as it scours the landscape of anything that gets in its way… Like a big bike for instance…!!

The weather changed with very little notice, one minute it was raining, and the next it was dry and sunny… On one end of the Skervberg tunnel the rain came down in sheets, and when I exited the tunnel two and a half kilometres later, it was into blazing sunshine…

When Sipho agreed to mow the Sorenson's lawn, he had no idea what was in store for him...

The rain made things a little more difficult, and the Big Fella reminded me that we had already put nearly 20 000 kms on the present set of tyres...

Inside the tunnel, it was dark and very gloomy, and water dripped down from above all along the way… This particular tunnel is narrower than the others, and the road surface is pitted and rough… Puddles of water gather in the little dips and it was unnerving to feel the bike splashing through these puddles in the dark…

What made it even darker and more stressful, was the fact that I was wearing dark glasses…!! Tearing through a tunnel at 80 km/h in the dark, with cars behind you, and the odd truck coming towards you, is not an experience for the faint of heart, that’s for certain…!! And there are no places to stop either…!!

This reindeer had a fine set of antlers...

The only constant thing about the weather was the howling wind… It shook the bike from side to side, making me ride at an angle which I thought was impossible to remain on the bike at… My nerves were rubbed red raw by the time we had neared the Nordkapp Tunnel, the deepest undersea tunnel in the world…

Just prior to that, I remember passing three bikers in the rain, all huddled over their tanks and hanging on for dear life…!! I have found that the slower I ride in high wind, the more difficult it is to control the bike… I find it far easier at above 80 km/h than it is at 50 or 60, where the other guys were riding at…

It was interesting to see the difference in the bikers coming back towards us from Nordkapp… They sat taller in their saddles, their tails up at having achieved their own dreams… Riding faster…, buoyed by their achievement and the excitement of having made it up there, waving merrily at us as we battled on into the wind…

Flocks of seagulls that had settled onto the mossy slopes at the edges of the road would lift into the air as I passed, some of them flying across the road and narrowly missing the bike and I…

“What more do I have to contend with…?” I was left asking myself after one of them actually brushed my shoulder on its way past…

“How about a brief rain shower…!!” was my answer…

Entry to the Nordkapp Tunnel... The deepest undersea tunnel in the world, a marvel of engineering...

I had to open my visor to see properly, and the icy rain drops were like needles on the skin of my cheeks and forehead… This was turning into one of the hardest rides I had ever ridden, made so purely by the weather conditions… The road itself was fantastic, with good grip (on the drier sections…!!) and expertly cambered where it needed to be… There were times when I wished it was far wider though, like when I was being blown inexorably into the path of an oncoming car for instance…

I breathed a sigh of relief as I entered the jaws of the Nordkapp Tunnel… At almost seven kilometres long, I knew that at least I would be out of the wind for a few minutes… The tunnel dives steeply underground, at a gradient of 10% for almost three kilometres, then levels out for a few more, before climbing up and out onto the island of Mageroya, where a toll gate awaits you…

I paid the NKr 70.00 for the privilege of riding through the tunnel, and nearly writing myself off a few times on the way to it, and on inquiring about a discount for the bad weather, was greeted with a cold stare by the tollbooth operator…

“Heard that one before, have you…?” I asked…

“No… You are the first…” he said without any expression on his pale face…

“Well then, what about it…?”

“If you are crazy enough to ride in this weather, then you must pay too…!” he said, a little smile lighting up his eyes…

The bridge that crosses the tip of the fjord, a short distance from the town of Nordkapp...

I rode on over a bridge and then turned off into the little town on Nordkapp, where a huge cruise liner was berthed…!! This ship toured the Fjords of Norway, and stopped off here so that buses could take visitors up to the Cape…

“You mean we could have come by boat…?” the Big Fella exclaimed…

“And miss all the fun of that last bit…!! Not on your life…!!”

The windswept road up to the beacon at Nordkapp...

I refueled, and drew some money from the only ATM in the little town, and then headed out to grind my way to the Nordkapp observation point, 35 kms away… I passed the village of Skipsfjord, and saw the Italian Group getting off their bikes at the camping grounds, and entering the wooden chalets there.

A few hamlets too small to be called villages, are scattered along the few roads north of the town, and after passing the last of these, the road wound its way through the stark and desolate beauty of this amazing island…

There is not a single tree or bush anywhere to be seen, just short grass and moss covered rocks… Little lakes lie in every hollow… There is water everywhere… The ground underfoot is soggy, and in a few weeks time will begin freezing solid…

I thought the wind was bad on the mainland, but out here it was far worse… At one point my front wheel lifted clear off the ground as a particularly strong gust almost blew us off the road… My back and shoulders ached as I hung on grimly, gritting my teeth with the effort of keeping us in one piece… I passed two bikers who had stopped and were shaking their heads as if to say “No more…!!”

I hooted at them and cocked my head forward as I passed, encouraging them to keep on…

“We’re almost there…!!” I shouted but the wind tore the words out of my helmet even as I spoke them… The Big Fella was leaning into the wind at such an angle, that I thought we would begin scraping foot pegs soon… I rode with my left shoulder into the wind, my elbow tucked into my side, praying that this short ride would end soon…

Behind me I saw the headlights of the two bikes come around a corner, wobbling as they fought the same fight I was…

“Come on boys…!!” I shouted into my helmet, as much to encourage them as myself…

Bleak, stark and desolate, but nonetheless beautiful...

This wind seemed determined to prevent me from getting to the Cape, but we hung in there, and suddenly I felt a surge of energy course through me… I have no idea where it came from, as I was almost running on empty… I gave the throttle a yank and the bike surged forward… It was though I was fighting a living thing… I began shouting things like,

“You are not going to beat me today…” and whooped like an excited cowboy every time the bike shuddered under me from the effect of the wind…!! It was all a bit insane…!! Had I been thinking rationally, I would probably have pulled over and waited for the wind to die down…

The last section of road runs straight as an arrow up a steep incline and I saw a bus come crabbing its way down the hill towards me, the wind pushing it from the one side and causing the driver to steer away from the edge of the road to keep it in line…

I went as close to the edge as I dared to keep him enough room to pass me, and the gust of wind as he did so, tore my left leg off the footrest… The Big Fella wobbled into the centre of the road, then collected his wits and blasted forward, over the rise and down into a short shallow valley, where I eased off the throttle and breathed a sigh of relief… We were not going to allow ourselves to be cowed by this wind… Not today…!!

Up ahead a row of small buildings stood at the entry to the Nordkapp beacon… I stopped and paid the entry fee of NKr 70.00, and then rode forward to the parking area… The only time you are allowed to take your bike right up to the beacon, is during the hours of midnight to 6.00am… There are too many people walking about to allow bikes to ride in between them…

The Big Fella stands proudly amongst the other bikes that had "summited"...

The howling wind blew this Kawasaki off it's sidestand...

I parked next to a row of other bikes and struggled to get off the bike in the high wind… Two Italian bikers were standing next to their bikes, holding onto them to stop them from being blown over… As I was walking away to the main building, they shouted after me and pointed at the Big Fella…

I saw him teetering on his side stand, ready to go over… As I ran towards him, a big red Kawasaki was blown off its stand by the gale force winds and crashed onto its side… I grabbed the Big Fella’s handlebars just as he was going over, one of the Italians reaching across from his own bike to help me steady mine…

“We better move them away from here,” I said, “Let’s hide them behind the camper vans…!”

We got the bikes moved and out of the worst of the wind, and then I walked up to the massive building that houses a cinema and four or five restaurants to cater to the crowds that visit here throughout the year, but less so in winter, when this area is hip deep in snow… There is also a museum and a large curio shop (naturally…!!)

A group of German bikers stood in the entrance way, and as I passed, one of them asked if it was safe to ride back down to town…

“Unless you plan to sleep up here my friend, you don’t have much of a choice…! Just take it easy and I am sure you will make it… Slow down at the top of the hills, as that is where the wind speed is highest…!”

“Ja, ja… Ok, ve vill try it…! Thanks my friend, if we make it, ve vill buy you a beer later…!!” and dragging their vigorously protesting wives and girlfriends with them, they walked down to their bikes…

I walked through the building and out of the glass doors that led out into a large open area, and in the distance, under an ever darkening sky stood the beacon that I had ridden so far to stand under…

The emotion welled up inside me, and I walked forward with blurry vision, stumbling over the small stones that line the walkway… The closer I got the lighter became my steps, and then it seemed I was floating on air… Maybe it was the wind that carried me the last few metres…!!

On Top of the World...

I felt an unseen hand take a hold of my heart and give it a squeeze, just like the time I sat staring at Agashwa the Mountain Gorilla, in Rwanda’s Virunga National Park… A very special moment then, just as it was now…

The Gypsy Biker adds another milestone to his GBWT C.V. ...

The Nordkapp lies at the Latitude of N 71° 10’ 21” above the Equator, barely a degree higher than that of Prudhoe Bay in Alaska, another point which I hope to reach in July 2011…

I stood watching the last busload of tourists take their photos and then dash away to the warmth and sanctuary of the main building… I had ridden too far and too long to do the same… I sat down on the little bench nearby, and stared out across the Barents Sea… It was a leaden grey colour, and hurled itself up against the rocky shore of the fjord far below and off to my left…

“This must be the most inhospitable place I have ever seen…” I heard a nearby American tell his wife…

“But also one of the most beautiful…!” I called out to him…

“Yeah…, “ he said looking out over the windswept hills behind us, “Pretty amazing…!”

And it was so…

I asked him to take a few photos of me up on the beacon, and afterward, sipped a cup of coffee while I waited for the 5.00pm slot of the Nordkapp movie that runs for just 15 minutes, but in that time, will blow your socks off… Many of the shots are taken from a helicopter and give one a completely different perspective from that you get from actually riding up here… It shows the different seasons and how the landscape changes during them…

The wide, curved screen was set ablaze with shots of the Northern Lights that had the audience gasping… You would need to get up here in the heart of winter to see them yourself, and that was something I was not prepared to do on a big bike…!!

I had planned to ride from here to Hammerfest, 180 kms away, but after the pounding I had taken getting here, decided to look for a place to stay in Skipsfjord instead… I had also got here two hours later than I had planned, and it was almost 6.00pm…

The ride back down was far easier… The wind had died down a little, though it still blasted over the higher points in the road… I took a few photos and stopped twice along the way to sit the bike and enjoy the surroundings… The sun made a brief appearance to highlight the beauty of it all once again, and then the clouds blew in and it started to drizzle… I had seen it all in the space of just a few moments…

The wind roared through this valley and over the bridge ahead... There were at least two option for an early bath...

High above the fjord, we stopped, awestruck by the magnificent views...

Steely-eyed and ready for the 25 km ride back to Skipsfjord...

Translation: You will be wrecked and mangled if you come off here...!!

I managed to get the last cabin available at the camping grounds, but had to pay R680.00 for the room… The ablution block was about 200 metres away, and if I wanted any breakfast, I would have to buy a voucher that was redeemable at the nearby up-market hotel…

The guy working at reception was a friendly chap, and when I complained about the wind and cold, he said,

‘You are still lucky…!! It snowed here on Sunday… People were complaining and grumbling about the cold…!”

“Yes, as people tend to do when frostbite sets in…!” I replied…

I had intended to ride up here on Sunday the 15th of August, and had even told Michel in Amsterdam that this was the day I would get to Nordkapp… Had I not met Rudi back in Sweden, I would have had an even more difficult day than I had today…!! That chance meeting had once again proved to be fortuitous…!!

Skipsfjord, where I spent the night... The little green cottages on the right of the picture were basic but cozy...

Parked outside No 9. Skipsfjord... No postal code, the postman will find it, no worries...!!

In the cabin next to mine was one of the Italians I had met up at the Cape while getting our bikes out of the wind… Simone Favio and I sat chatting about his ride here through Russia, and he strongly advised me not to go there unless it was absolutely necessary…

His tale of terrible roads, large scale theft and the hassle of getting into and out of the country, had me wondering if I should give it a miss, and take the ferry straight to Estonia from Helsinki, rather than ride around to St Petersburg…

“You have to wear a respirator when you are there, because the fires have made a lot of smoke and gas that is not very good for you,” he told me…

Was this to be another fortuitous meeting for me…? It would mean yet another change of plan, and possibly missing out on riding in Russia…!! We sat discussing various alternative routes down to Turkey, and then I went back to my cabin, to heat a cup of water on the stove, so that I could get some warm coffee inside of me…

Amazingly, I managed to pick up a wireless signal, and was able to check my mail and do a little writing… This did not last long, as I was still fired up after the ride and had it not been so windy, would have taken a walk to the edge of the fjord to wear off some of the energy that still coursed through me…

The Solskaers pay the price for neglecting their gardening duties after Philemon absconded with the lawnmower...

Taking the duvets off all four beds, and wearing as much clothing as I was comfortable in, I got onto my wooden bunk and prepared to sleep… This proved a little difficult, as the howling wind seemed to be moving the little cabin about… It shook and rattled for ages, and at one point I went outside to see if the bike was still upright… At 11.30, I heard the big Italian Group start their engines and head for the Cape… They had decided to do a midnight “summit” and tried to get me to go along…

“Once a day is quite enough, thank you very much…!” I told them, and then ran over to the barrier next to road with my video camera, and filmed them as they rode away up the hill and out of the village… Although the sun had gone “down” an hour before, it never actually gets dark here (except in the winter of course…!!) and at 11.30pm it was light enough to see everything around me…

I went back to bed, and lay there thinking about the day’s ride, marveling that I had made it through the high wind without “binning the bike” as my mate John in Gibraltar would say… I decided that I would ride back to the Cape in the morning and thumb my nose at the wind again for good measure… I wanted to be there when it was quieter, to appreciate the surroundings a little more… The entry ticket was valid for 48 hours, so no bothers there…!!

I fell asleep with a grin that threatened to split my face in half…

I had just completed a 35 000 km ride from Cape Aghulas on the Southern tip of Africa, to Nordkapp in Norway, and the Top of the World, in biking terms…

Who wouldn’t be grinning…??

This ride is dedicated to my daughters Roxanne and Robyn, and to Sarah Bryson in Burgess Hill, who even though I met very briefly, gave me the added strength and determination I needed to reach Nordkapp…

I now wish you three the same strength and determination to succeed in whatever it is you put your minds to… Your minds being the key to unlocking your futures…

GBWT 2010