I get around
Given how I practically didn’t swing my leg over a bicycle during the year that’s coming to an end it’s best to start planning the next one. And put the plans somewhere potentially public, if it were to put a tiny amount of pressure on whatever it is that gets to decide if it’s a … Continue reading Connecting service roads
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 … Continue reading Aus der Reihe: Not a bike lane
The bus came, and the bus left. And I stood on the platform thinking—that wasn’t planned! Actually, what I thought contained somewhat stronger language but no need to get into the details. Cycling out of Bergen Norway, where I live, may or may not be a successful task. Depending on where you want to go … Continue reading Seeing places
During a period when I was a kid, I drew maps. Lots of them. Islands and valleys, rivers, roads. There was usually an underlying story going on and I would create the landscape excactly the way I wanted it, and if I felt the need to get from here to there it was simply a … Continue reading Drawing maps
I believe I was looking for a cycle route between Bergen and Voss when I first came across the article about crossing the mountain between the Samnanger fjord and Bergsdalen valley, using an old military road since the 1920’s. Reading it I realized that the term road was being used a little differently from what … Continue reading (Un)finished business
Osterøy. 35km away from home. Intriguing lines on the map, roads I haven’t ridden before, places I have yet to see. A formatted memory card and a fully charged battery in the camera—this one is easy on the batteries so I don’t stress much about not finding a spare. And a Strava challenge I’d like … Continue reading The sky above, the road below
The mountain, in its native language, is called Gullfjellet. Without knowing the back story, directly translated it would be Gold Mountain, nothing less. I do seem to recall something about how the original meaning of Gull in this context isn’t gold but that’s as far as I recall I’m afraid. For the lack of the … Continue reading Crossing Gold mountain
