Fjelltur | The Life of All Sorts

Today the weather was gorgeous and sunny, and at 19˚ C it was the warmest day I’ve experienced in Lofoten thus far. Scandinavians are drawn to sunshine faster than moths are drawn to light. I have never seen the streets of Svolvær so busy– there were several cars and dozens of people in town! That’s quite a lot for a town with population less than 5000.

I, too, felt that this extraordinary weather was too good to miss out on. On the way home from work, I turned right at the Esso gas station instead of going straight, and biked to the Tjeldbergtind trail. Having had a couple of nice introductory hikes with my boyfriend in Stokmarknes (1.5h north from Svolvær), and after surviving the very exciting adventure of Svarttinden, I decided I was ready to venture out on my own.

I felt like Cheryl Strayed, the author of one of my favourite books called “Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail.” Admittedly, my solo outdoor adventure was a little more tame than wild, but it was an empowering, novel feeling to be out on my own. Usually I copy the person ahead of me and step directly in their footsteps, and I’ve received some encouraging pep talks about going downhill and trusting that I won’t fall down the mountain. This time, there was no external guidance or motivation; it was all me!

Tjelbergtinden was the perfect mountain for me to tackle by myself. At 367 meters above sea level, it was only about half the altitude of the intense and exciting mountain I hiked up last time. The trail was extremely clear at Tjelbergtinden, so it was impossible for even a clueless beginner like me to wander astray. This, I was thankful for, as I have zero sense of direction. It was a straightforward, idiot-proof hike. I like to step out of my comfort zone, but as a beginner I also need to set myself up for success (and be careful when I am alone)!

It felt good to find my own pace. I liked hearing the rhythm of my footsteps within the noisy silence of nature. I soon got lost in the hypnotic pattern of finding a foothold on the slope and pushing my next step forward. Hiking has a way of bringing you to focus on the present. You can look ahead, you can glance behind, but not for long. With each moment you have to refocus your attention on each deliberately placed step. I think that’s part of why hiking is equally as rejuvenating as it is exhaustion– it is like a form of meditation.

Before long I was surprised to emerge at the top of a ridge, and my jaw dropped as I scanned in the panorama. AMAZING. I don’t think I could ever get tired of this! Landscape photographs are never as good as the real thing, but I’ll post them below anyways.

At the summit, I perched myself on a rock next to my backpack and ate chocolate while enjoying the view. There were two peaks, and I enjoyed being the lone human on my chosen viewpoint. Dotting the other side of the ridge were tiny figures with neon-coloured tank tops and shorts scaling the other peak. I savoured my solitude.

After some quality alone-time, I headed back down to my bike. The trail was dry and sandy in some sections, which increased the risk for sliding. At the beginning of my descent, my unstable foot slid a few times due to my insecurity and hesitation. I had to have a logical conversation with myself to calm myself down. Had other hikers crossed my path on the trail at that moment, they would have found me literally talking to myself out loud. My self-talk worked, and the rest of my descent went smoothly.

My mantra from my last hike now evolved to inspire confidence in myself as well: “Trust, your-shoes. Trust, your-step. Trust, your-shoes. Trust, your-step.” Left, right, left, right.

Of course I did not fall down the mountain, and I biked home feeling great despite my mildly aching quadriceps.

Now, I am proud to say that I survived my first solo hike!