Aus der Reihe: Not a bike lane

Aus der Reihe: Not a bike lane

I have had the pleasure of experiencing the route I call Bergen–Voss; The Bicycle Super Highway twice now. The Super Highway part being a questionable attempt at internet irony. The second time I noticed how I was stopping occasionally along the way asking myself what the bloody h..* I was doing, how I was too old for this and other fine clichés.

So it is no highway, not by any means. And although much of it can be cycled one should be prepared to carry the bike on a few stretches, just–barely–hikeable–with–a–bike–over–ones–shoulder (if that’s how one goes about carrying the trusty two–wheeler), and walk it for quite a bit more.

That is, unless one is more skilled and better equipped than I, for terrain such as this. Which I know a lot of people are. To them I say; go for it, what are you waiting for, etc.

Anyway, I wrote too many words about the first time so this’ll be a slideshow. One that covers only the mountain pass that connects the two roads normally not used when cycling between Bergen and Voss and a short detour. A trip certainly worth the experience. Twice, I don’t know but once, absolutely!

The dam. And insects. Damn insects.

If there is a dam, it’s more likely than not that there is a service road all the way up to it. And often those service roads are just wonderful—fairly well built gravel roads, closed to most traffic, hardly used. Lovely to ride.

There is a dam. My only complaint about it is that it’s only about 5km away. Should have been 50..

Well, and the insects. Can’t remember riding through clouds as thick as these, clouds of agressive, blood–sucking winged creatures whose name in english I don’t know.

loaded touring bicycle leaning against rock

It was right about here, that they started to smell my blood, the insects. Then they went away and I thought it was over for now, but I guess they only wanted to make sure all their friends got a piece of it, me.

Personally I can’t think of two good reasons not to race this road. I mean, if people are into that. Except perhaps that is’s short, I guess that might be a deal breaker, for most races.

gravel road at the foot of a mountain, lake in the foreground

That road!


landscape diptych on pink background showing reservoir and mountain landscape

Standing on a dam, admiring landscape.


Old, red house next to a lake

Two houses close to the reservoir.

Dam, reservoir and distant mountains. Bicycle and a man's shadow on the road over the dam.

Dam, nature, bicycle, shadow of a man, perspective, perspectives, that sort.

Still not a lot of reasons not to race it..

So this was the detour. See map below.

Back on track

black and white photograph of a shaded road leading into a valley, sunlit mountaintop above.Since this was mid–summer and the daylight would last until fairly late, detours are ok. Hadn’t it been for the bloody insects chewing their way through the fabric that was supposed to keep them out it would have been a great detour.

But in spite of them, it was well worth it. Especially in hindsight, when there has been plenty of time to hone the memory pieces that needed to be, ehemm, modified. Besides, I still haven’t seen a single insect in all those Kodak moments!

So, back on track. Forward and upward, and just about here is where the idea of racing stops and hike–a–bike begins.

Elevated view over valley, last rays of sun on the mountain tops.

Looking back over the valley, track somewhat visible.

Catching the last rays of sun, up here it felt like a new day.

Landscape at dusk, clear blue sky.

A day that didn’t last very long though..

view over touring bicycle handlebars, mountaint trail ahead.

Slow 56km (not in 23 hours but at about 23 hours..)

View out of a tent, mountain landscape, shoes and a touring bicycle.

Light of day.

Paths and such

What follows are just paths and ways, my new favorite category of images, heavily inspired by someone elses work (never got the author’s site to work in my browser..), gratitude to @rdpxi for bringing it to my awareness and not remember what it was called.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *