Ticket to ride

Ahh, more Joy of Parcels, although not strictly gear (unless I can use the Tyvek envelope as a tiny groundsheet). My passport has finally arrived although too late for my planned trip to Finland :-(

I am still without internet so recent adventures will have to wait to be posted. For the time being I will try and keep things up-to-date via my phone. Not ideal I know.

It seems I have entered a game of on-line jinxing. After warning Kate on the dangers of her recent spannering she managed a pretty nasty nail fail. In return Kate commented on my recent snowy adventures and promptly made the snow dissapear. We are even, for now. I dare not mention anything about the OMM she is about to attempt, especially after last year.

Black Dam, white mountains

Blue skies enticed me out from under my duvet to have a proper day out around Svartediket and up into the white frosted hills. Turns out most of Bergen was unaware that snow had fallen so close to the city. The lower hills encircling the city are still coloured with the hues of autumn and it's only the more adventurous or recently airborne residents that knew that winter had arrived already.

Porridge-fuelled and shod with winter boots I made the short walk past the dam and onto the path. I glimpsed my apartment back through the trees, suddenly aware how precarious it seemed, perched betwixt mountain-side and dam. I wondered if avalanche and flooding were covered on my contents insurance...

The gravel path wound it's way around the reservoir and this time I took the left fork that leads up to the second, higher reservoir. Just past the water the elevation reaches 500m and with almost a straight edge precision the trees stopped and a faint covering of intermittent snow took over. The blueness above was suddenly not alone and rogue clouds marauded the skyline, causing striking lighting effects when I looked back towards Ulriken. Over the next ridge and left at the crossroads the signs pointed towards Vikingshytte. A hive of activity in summer, offering ice-cream and crowds, it was now serving just ice and solitude. Brown cheese sandwiches and coffee were consumed along with the stunning views across to the mountains to the east.

Up along the high ridge the snow thickened and the path disappeared. For the first time in ages I walked along hand-in-hand with map and compass, keeping myself on bearing and mindful not to miss my turning. The sky continued to play out it's ever changing palette routine, one minute blue and benign, then streaked with brushes of white, brooding gray and finally the encore of those black clouds, drifting along like dark galleons on higher winds.

As I encircled Svartediket far below I started to head down, meeting a few people along the way. The snow started to recede and ice took over under-foot. Hmmmm, my thoughts turned to crampons once again. Back down into the trees the colours started to warm up as the sunshine returned. The weather forecast predicted another few days on sunshine. I wonder...

New surroundings, new seasons

I moved apartment this weekend, hopefully for the last time in a while. It's been a crazy summer, moving home 3 times in as many months. Still, one big plus of my latest move is that I am closer to the mountains again, very close.

Despite not making it to Finland as planned this week (it's a long story) I was determined to get outside for some fresh air. Even that thick head feeling of an on-coming cold didn't deter me although I carried nothing more than my camera and planned nothing more than a stroll around my new surroundings to get my bearings.

3 mins from my new home is the blunt end of Svartediket, one of the reservoirs that supplies Bergen with water and electricity. After all the recent rainfall there was a curtain of excess flowing over one of the spillways. Around the corner the path switches from tarmac to gravel and as I quickly scanned the horizon something caught my eye. Is that snow?! It was. Just a dusting, but definitely snow.

The path weaves it's way around the reservoir, always under the scrutiny of lights that will allow for winter evening running and, if snow arrives in the city like last year, post-work skiing sessions. The only thing that detracts from the scene is the criss-cross of power cables that lace the slender reservoir together.

Autumnal colours abounded. Rust-red berries amid the green, yellow and auburn of the surrounding foliage. Periodically the path split and on a whim I left the main gravel drag and sloped off up a forested hillside. The path soon petered out into a washed out sluice and sure footing was in short supply. Whenever the path levelled out it instantly turned into ankle deep slush, threatening to swamp my mids.

I did consider heading further up one of the narrow valleys to the snow far above but my cold, common sense and lack of suitable clothing turned me back at a sensible decision point. I stopped and ate a banana, admiring the cirque of rock around me while gushing water echoed off the granite walls.

The sun started to slip away and cold caressed me gently, reminding me that I was not equipped to be out here long today. Thankfully the wind was light and the nudge home was friendly. I turned back towards the city and entered the muffled forest.

Before long I was back on the main path and passing people enjoying their post-work exercise. I was thankful to have gotten out today, to explore my new back-yard, even if I wasn't feeling 100%. New adventures, a new season and a winter of outdoor fun to look forward too.

The city I live in

Bergen, she's beautiful in the sunshine but she doesn't look bad between rain storms.