Unsupported Solo crossing of the Hardangervidda Mountain Plateau.

 

Crossing the Hardangervidda in full Winter conditions was something I had wanted to do from the point of arriving in Norway. I knew I would do it at some point due to the nature of the location being best characterised as Polar by some of the most famous names in extreme cold adventure such as Shackleton and Amundsen. The main difficulty of this was the large time commitment. The route is approximately 135km I had expected to take 6 to 8 days to cross the plateau in addition to 2 days of travel time and had to allow some time for poor weather and underperformance. For this reason, I chose to do this over the Easter break.

I also made the judgement call to attempt the route on snowshoes as opposed to the conventional and admittedly more efficient skis. While this may be sacrilege to a Norwegian there was logic behind this decision. Firstly, I was more comfortable on snowshoes than skis, there is no doubt in my mind that my skiing ability while likely sufficient in a group of similarly skilled individuals would have meant lots of time spent in the snow and getting back to my feet. I also risked injury for this reason which in a place as remote and sparse as the Hardangervidda could potentially be fatal. I also had to bear in mind my skill level with a pulk. Pulks are very easy to drag on the flat and gentle descents however on steeper terrain both uphill and downhill become far more challenging, particularly when using skis where you are relying on balance, core strength and ability to guide yourself as opposed to traction and to a lesser extent balance. The final reason was that I was worried about the warmth of my skiing boots. On a previous skiing trip I had experienced frost nip in one of my toes. The strange sensation of a slight numbness still persists a little and I was aware that the temperatures of the Hardangervidda could fall below those of where I had developed this difficulty (-20c). I was however confident that my B3 mountaineering boots could cope with these temperatures as they are thicker and also have a ‘super gaiter’ which acts as an extra layer of protection from the elements.

Firstly however, I had to establish a route. There are several options of getting across the Hardangervidda as it is such a large area, however I opted for one of the most popular options; Haukeliseter to Finse. This route is best done in the opposite direction due to the prevailing winds coming from the North at this time of year (March) and popularity, however I chose the opposite direction, purely for logistical reasons. I also intended to complete the route solo and preferably unsupported; bringing all my own supplies and staying in my tent for accommodation. For me this was part of the experience and while I fully acknowledge the extra difficulty and risks attached to this, the self-reliance and independence was central to the experience. I am quite fond of solo work as while you cannot get the assistance to make tasks easier, I truly believe it one of the single best ways to develop oneself fully in outdoor ability as there is no option to relax and rely on others (social loaf) as the failure to act on something means that the consequences fall purely on the individual thus improving judgement calls over time. I also had emergency action plans for each stage of the route and was aware that the route would be fairly busy with it being Easter however nonetheless, my navigation had to be spot on; there is no room for error on Europe’s largest mountain plateau.

Preparation

Preparation for this journey had to be precise. While I was taking a pulk in order to make the carrying of equipment far less taxing and frankly possible, I still had to keep weight to a minimum in order to not work myself too hard. I was aware my body would be burning many, many calories more than usual purely due to the cold weather and once factoring in the long distance, heavy pulk and the compounding impact of moving day after day after day, I opted almost exclusively for dried food products, ideally with low cooking times. For example, with the choice of my usual carbohydrate grain products of pasta, rice, quinoa and couscous, I opted for couscous due to the fact that it does not need to be cooked, rather added to boiling water. For this reason, most of my meals consisted of couscous, a flavouring sauce powder of some sort, powdered milk and some added meat or fish product such as beef jerky, tuna and at the start of the trip, pre-cooked chicken and chorizo. In the morning I had oatmeal with added milk powder and a protein bar and my lunches consisted mostly of snacks, cereal bars and mackerel. I brought sufficient provisions for 8-9 days however if needs be this could have been stretched to ~12 days or perhaps even further. My main concern was not getting enough protein. Calories are the usual concern however on a trip this long where the body is working hard every day, a lack of protein can lead to painful aching and cramps as the body cannot repair fast enough. For this reason, I aimed to get around 100 grams of protein per day in addition to as many carbohydrates and as much fat as I could stomach. I was also taking vitamin pills in order to supplement the lack of fruit and vegetables I was getting and also alongside isotonic/electrolyte mixes to replenish any minerals my body was lacking.

The journey

Upon arrival in Haukeliseter it was already pushing 4pm so I opted to only travel ~3km on my first day with the aim being to push up the first significant hill. I checked the weather forecast for the next few days and it was unchanged and predicted sunny weather after about 36 hours of cloud so I departed. The hill was possibly the steepest on the route which I was informed by a man once reaching the top; a nice little motivator. I did this fairly quickly despite not being used to the weight of the pulk and quickly established a camp in preparation for the early start I needed on the first major leg of my Hardangervidda crossing. I was determined to have a good start. I settled in and prepared for the cold night ahead.

Upon waking I made breakfast and repacked the pulk ready to go. I left camp at around 8:30am and was making a good pace. I travelled about 8km before taking a break and still hadn’t seen anyone which I thought was odd however I started to see people from about 11am onwards. From this point on I started to experience the general trends. These involved being overtaken by skiers without (however sometimes with) pulks and expedition skiers with pulks coming from the opposite direction remarking on my snowshoes. While this was irritating at first, I began to embrace the fact that I was at least not making a fool of myself on skis and doing something a little unconventional. It was also on this morning that I had a conversation with a German man travelling with his father who I had spoken to briefly at Haukeliseter. He was friendly and we realised we were both travelling to Finse. He was pleasant and we wished each other well and I did not expect to see them again however I continued to see this pair over and over again throughout the trip overtaking each other such that it became a running joke that snowshoes are clearly not ‘too bad’. I also spoke to a couple of Norwegian’s not too much older than myself who had been going for a few days coming from the opposite direction who informed me that there were two Polish men who had just completed the route on Snowshoes whom they had met in Finse which gave me a slight resolve.

The day felt long and while the sun kept blazing and hiding behind clouds all day one thing remained consistent; wind. The wind coming from the North-West was enough to numb my face and sap my energy. The general trend for the day was gentle climbing with a couple of steeper descents which was also very draining.

Eventually however I reached my first planned destination, Hellevasbu. I pitched my tent about 300m from the cabin in case of any issues arising in the night. Upon climbing into my tent, I realised that my face felt as though it was burning. Upon checking my face with my phone camera, I was shocked to discover just how burnt I had become. I realised I had forgot to top my sun cream up in the afternoon and due to all the cold wind, I hadn’t felt myself getting burned. Novice mistake.

In all honesty it was at this point that I first doubted my ability to complete the full distance, something which I never usually allow myself to do but nonetheless after a long, rational ponder and a good dinner I decided to persist.

The next morning was a slightly later start and the long slog uphill for the first part of the journey was depressing. To make things worse at the top of the hill the weather worsened to less than 30m of visibility. Psychologically this one of the hardest days I think as I still had the opportunity to turn around for this day and things were hard, after crossing the undulating terrain I eventually came to a frozen lake late in the evening. This lake was pretty huge however it signalled the last great feature of the day and I was aware that the DNT cabin Litlos was at the end of the lake. Due to its size I could also see it after a short while however as the light dimmed it didn’t seem to get much closer. After what felt like many hours but in reality, can’t have been much more than one, I dragged my aching body to within close proximity of the cabin. The lights inside were tempting but I wasn’t going to fail in my goal. I settled down and began to prepare dinner and while I went to bed later than I had hoped I was proud that I was still on track and completing my ideal mileage.

Up until this point I had expected the weather to not be the nicest, this is not to say that it was awful but it certainly wasn’t friendly. I was however expecting the weather for this day to be extremely clear and for this to continue for the foreseeable. This however was not what I was greeted with in the morning when I opened my tent door to sideways snow. Regardless I got up and packed but I was slightly confused and a little shaken at the fact that the forecast was so wrong. I saw someone pass my tent who told me that he wasn’t sure why the weather had not improved. Eventually after an hour or two of gentle movement uphill I reached the plateau and almost suddenly (at least seemingly) the wind completely stopped and the sky cleared. This was probably the calmest weather I had experienced so far and it felt as though there was absolutely no wind. The sensation I felt was burning, all over my exposed areas of skin. I pushed on and the weather remained this way for several more hours. I was becoming more and more tired and unlike the previous days, I did not see anyone for long periods of time. This was interrupted by a group of kite skiers moving very slowly across a lake due to the lack of wind. At the far side of the lake the route meandered up what was seemingly a bit of a gully. It took me half an hour or so to exit this gully however when I did the weather was not how I remembered. Suddenly I felt side on winds to the head and I realised the snow was windswept with sastrugi formations all over. This continued for the majority of the afternoon and felt as though I was moving on ice as my snowshoes did not sink into the snow whatsoever. My aim for finishing the day was to reach the Besso cabin. I estimated however that if I was to reach the cabin it would require me to push after sunset and most likely with minimal light. Instead I opted to set up camp about 2km short of this objective at the side of Bessevatnet around sunset. At this point I had a scare; while setting up my tent I managed to snap a pole. This was odd as I had handled the poles much more roughly in high winds in the past and the weather was relatively still in this instance. I suspect that the extremely low temperatures had made the metal brittle. Luckily, I had my pole repair kit with me but my tent was definitely much weaker than 5 minutes earlier. I was therefore aware that I would really have to think about where I pitched in order to get sufficient cover from land features. I was beginning to feel more and more remote.

The following morning, I managed to sleep through my alarm and woke at 11am. This was a disaster as I was already behind time. I was also still exhausted and aching. This meant that I took far longer than usual to pack up and it was probably about 1:30pm before I was on my snowshoes again. The general illness that I had largely ignored up until this point was also becoming more difficult and it felt as though my nostrils were burning and I was also starting to experience a little stomach cramping. I was very concerned that I could have somehow contracted norovirus as I had been informed by a passer by that there was a serious outbreak in the cabins. This was to become more and more clear over the coming days as I would see people being brought out of the wilderness on snowmobiles. This day I was also moving face into very strong winds and I could not feel my lips or nose and my eyelids were constantly freezing shut. I concluded this day after just two and a half hours of snowshoeing covering only 9km. I decided it would be better to scrap the day and get a good amount of rest.

Well rested and hoping to at least complete this day’s distance plan I pushed on to Dyranut. I was now a whole day behind the optimal plan however this was not an eventuality I had not prepared for, in fact I had almost expected this outcome. This day saw a dramatic change in scenery. Gone were the rolling hills and rocky outcrops of the low mountains of the western Hardangervidda; I was now nearing the centre of the plateau and the terrain was flat, totally flat. I was therefore extremely grateful for the clear skies, even if the glare was absolutely brutal, as navigating in poor conditions on this leg would have been painstakingly slow. And while it was not warm, the radiation from the sunlight was enough to mean I was travelling in nothing but a thin t-shirt. The previous isolation I was relatively used to started to be replaced throughout the day as I saw more and more day skiers coming from the road ahead. This road at Dyranut was the first access I had had to the outside world and while there was no public transport service, it offered a way out, even if just psychological. I did not need this now however as I felt as though I was nearing the end; a similar effect to summit fever. The road was actually very impressive as it had been chiselled out from underneath many metres of snow, leaving it with huge snow walls. There were actually only two viable crossing points I could see where slopes had been cut. I completed this day with great effort, pulling myself into Dyranut just before sunset after a full 22km day. The final hill was conducted at a crawling pace as the gentle uphill slope felt endless. The terrain for the day had been relatively easy but the endurance required for this trip was really taking a toll on my body. My ill health however was starting to improve which was great as the signs on the outside of the cabins were clearly shown stating that if a person had Norovirus then they could be sent down to the local clinic to be quarantined. I set up my tent within viewing distance of the warm lights of the cabins and cooked up some dinner. I was not aware as to how cold this night would be.

The following morning, I awoke at 7am. This was ideal however the minute I took my arms from my sleeping bag I decided that the temperature was far too low. I had experienced cold nights here in Norway down to just below -20c. This however was a new kind of cold. I quickly turned on my phone which had frozen buttons and was thrilled to see a data connection. I used this to check the forecast and discovered that the temperature was a merciless -31c. This was cold even for a Hardangervidda night so I chose to stay in the warmth of my sleeping bag for a further hour and a half. I only moved from this situation once the sun had hit the side of the tent. The temperature had only rose by one degree by 8am so it was well worth the wait. I packed and treated myself to a warm porridge and green tea. This was the longest wait I had ever had for a cup of tea, without a doubt.

With another late start in the bag I was a little dismayed however the finish point was a definite two days away now and with the sun still blazing it was hard to be down. The sun was also excellent as it had also allowed me to keep my devices charged in case of an emergency using my solar panel I had kept on top of my pulk. This included both my phone and GPS.

For this day I kept moving again, intending only to stop when the sun had begun to set in order to maximise the distance I could cover. I passed the cabin named Kjeldebu around mid-afternoon. From here I pushed on for around another 7km. Here I stopped to boil some water and perhaps cook a little food. This where I ran into an extremely dangerous and potentially perilous situation. Upon attempting to light my stove I realised that my matches were not striking. After using about 50 matches I had only a small amount left. By this point I had tried many, many different ways of lighting the matches including doing many at a time but the best I got was a smoky mess. At this point things were getting desperate so I began to look for my emergency magnesium fire lighter. I very quickly realised that I did not have this in the place I always carry it as I did not bring it with me to Norway due to flight restrictions. I did not panic as per my usual approach to these sorts of situations and simply thought rationally. I could potentially backtrack to the cabin I had passed and attempt to boil water there as well as get some working matches or a lighter. I could also camp where I was or a little further. I could also push on in darkness to the finish as I had now covered about a third of the distance from the previously mentioned cabin. The risk for the last two options were serious dehydration however I still had about two thirds of a litre left and was also aware than in an emergency situation it would be possible to get small amounts of water from my own body heat. I concluded that I was in good enough health to finish the route in one go. What followed was one of the more physically challenging things I have ever done. The night got progressively colder as expected and while it was beautiful, I felt my progress was extremely slow. This was not helped by the constant fresh sightings of the footprints of a large mammal. At the time I had gone through the processing of thinking of first that it must have been the footprints of a large dog accompanying a skier from during the day however these thoughts quickly evaporated when I realised that the movements were not that of a pet and that they were much fresher than any of the ski tracks. I then imagined that it could have been a wolf but this wasn’t possible as I realised that wolves don’t usually travel alone and that the Hardangervidda doesn’t contain any wolves as these are only really present on the Swedish border and further North. I finally realised that these were probably the tracks of one single lynx. This made me fairly paranoid as I was aware that lynxes rarely take interest in humans. This was because of the nature of the movement whereby the animal was clearly crossing the track every 50m or so. I was worried that the animal was only a short distance in front of me and could circle around as lynxes are ambush predators. My worries were in vain however but it is interesting how more fearful I became in the dark when exhausted and dehydrated and with the constant feeling of being stalked. I followed the line of a huge lake which swept East before I came to the final climbing section of the whole route. This was an extreme relief however I wasn’t expecting to move so slowly. It took me hours to climb the hill to the extent that my mind essentially switched off and I was operating on autopilot. I also had to carefully balance my ever-declining energy and hydration levels. For this reason, I wasn’t able to consume as much food as I would have needed as the sugar would have dehydrated me further and by this point my tongue was like leather. After climbing the hill, I pushed past the foot of the Hardangerjøkulen glacier and began the descent to Finse. At several points I stopped simply to sit and rest. In retrospect I was dangerously tired. Nonetheless I pushed on and at about 7am I saw the most fulfilling sight imaginable for a person with the single focus of finishing a route in mind. I saw a little light in all the darkness coming from the village of Finse.

This final leg took longer than expected and the village faded from sight and light began to sweep into the valley. Eventually I came over a lip and saw Finse no more than 200m away. I detached from my pulk and dropped my backpack and rested for at least ten minutes, extremely proud of the monumental 38km leg I had completed and momentarily forgetting the poor shape that my body was in. Suddenly I snapped back into the mental state I had been in all night and moved forward toward the busy looking DNT cabin and very quickly headed inside to fill up my water the bottles. I also got the chance to eat a buffet breakfast which was the single best reward imaginable at the time. After a couple of hours chilling out, I hopped on the train back to Kristiansand. 135km, 6 and a half days, averaging 20km+/day on snowshoes, every night in a tent. Job done.

Danger and failings

Over the course of this adventure I pushed myself really hard both physically and mentally but there are some explicit issues that I encountered which I will list here:

Extreme weather issues – Sunburn due to direct sunlight and reflections off the vast expanses of flat, Polar like snow and extremely low temperature with wind, making steps to cover exposed skin.

Equipment limits – Not an issue for me as my sleeping bag is -35c rated however a night below -30c would have been very dangerous for most people on the course.

Broken equipment – When my tent poles broke this had me very rattled, fortunately I knew how to dig an emergency snowhole however this would be a far from ideal situation.

General illness and ill health – I perhaps should not have undertaken this trip with symptoms of a common cold due to the potential for it worsen into something more serious like pneumonia.

Norovirus outbreaks – This would have been extremely scary had I chosen to stay in he cabins as I could not think of a scarier place in Norway to be very ill, alone.

Frozen and unusable food – I did not mention this previously however on several occasions, certain food that I would usually use was totally frozen, notably tuna in oil. The oil usually means that the can does not freeze as opposed to spring water however on this trip on a couple of night my cans froze solid. My gas was also rated to -25c however seemed to work still below this limit, luckily.

Evaluation

To evaluate this trip, it certainly was a big adventure (at least for me). There are things I would do differently to correct some of these previously mentioned issues such as making sure to apply sun cream frequently and from the very beginning and better check that my usual backup systems like my backup firelighter are there and work however otherwise I view this trip as an resounding success. I had to work very hard however with a bit of mental fortitude far more can be achieved than most people realise.