Riding the Midnight Sun

The Finns set off early for Abisco. I continued at a leisurely pace onto the Lofoten Islands. I was taking time out drinking tea and map reading, when Thomas rolled in on an old K series BMW. Another middle aged Swedish rider with time to play. We were joined by another Beemer with a Swedish couple on board. An impromptu rally almost. Out of the networking Thomas and I teamed up and sauntered the length of the islands together through sunshine and showers. The Lofotens are truly stunning. Don't pass up an opportunity to visit. Into the evening we explored, taking pictures. We had the idea of sharing a cabin and catching a morning sailing on the Bodo ferry. Checking out the ferry terminal Thomas announced that he thought we should jump on the boat, then ride south through the night in the sunshine. Since I had an invite to go on holiday to Gotland with VBMC next week, and I felt finished with the Lofotens (without appropriate company the romance of the place was of no use to me), so on an impulse we got on the boat.

Standing alone on the rolling deck of a ship bound for Bodo, the midnight sun literally on my face. If my body felt the cold, my mind did not register it. Thomas was sound asleep on a row of seats inside. I hadn't managed that. We set off across the southern Arctic landscape at 00:30, and rode until 02:15. I could go no further and had to sleep. I liked Thomas but we had been out of sync for hours. He was fit to ride and wanted to continue. I could not. I erected my tiny tent while he brewed us both a coffee. We talked and finished our drinks, said our goodbyes, then he rode off south on the E6, and I crawled into my bed.

As rough camping goes it was very good indeed. A picnic area on the outskirts of a village that clearly care about it, judging by the flower boarders. Heavy wooden tables and benches and a rest room with hot water and a socket to recharge my helmet. I could want for no more. I awoke at 06:00 rested, and enjoyed a gypsy breakfast. Refreshed I set off for Trondheim to break the back of the journey down to the western Fjords. I needed big distances quick to allow me to meet the VBMC gang to go to Gotland. There was nothing I wanted from the middle part of Norway this trip. I needed 500 miles and had bagged only 85 through the night. By 15:00 I was trashed and 150 miles short. Bjorn watched me stagger off my bike at the filling station, bleary eyed and unshaven. He was riding an R1150RT. The predecessor to my machine. We shared a coffee or two, and he poured over maps and plans with me, concluding that the Atlantic road and the Trollstegen pass were very possible in one day on Sunday. Conversation and coffee revived me. Thanks to Bjorn for that. It was a favour I would return further down the road tomorrow. The camaraderie of the motorcycling community is absolutely stunning. I've said it before. We really are one tribe.

I got a cabin soon after that. A shower, shave at last, and a hot meal of "dog food" and potatoes, and 10 full hours sleep, and I was ready to continue to Kristiansund and the amazing Atlantic Road.