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Day 19

The forecast called for heavy morning rain, beginning at 6 am. Therefore, when I woke naturally at 4:50 am, I dressed, packed up, and dug a cat-hole. Then I sat on a wood bench in the gapahuk, made hot coffee, and journaled. At 6:20, it did indeed start raining. I ate bread topped with peanut butter & banana, while I watched the valley fill with a fog that obscured the opposite hillsides. Around 9 am, the rain let up and I set out. There was a brief section of brush-lined trail that quickly soaked my lower pant legs and shoes. The pants dried quickly, my feet stayed wet; I accepted it. Fortunately, the path primarily stuck to wide gravel roads, perfect for a day of intermittent light rain.

In the morning and early afternoon, I saw two mountain hares. I really enjoyed them, they were giant and bounded with abundant power. I wondered where all the other pilgrims went, considering I’d seen so many yesterday. Then a cyclist from the Nederlands said hello and slowed to chat. He was biking to Trondheim, on his 9th day out of Oslo. When I commented how much faster it was on wheels, he said yes, however he can’t always follow the track, only the road portions. Good point. Though we were on roads, they went through heavy forest and there were great views down into the valley, when the low lying clouds and mist cleared up long enough to see them.

As I began to contemplate lunch, I found a handy picnic table with the trail’s emblem. I ate and enjoyed the adjacent river’s murmuring flow. Mid-afternoon I arrived at a caravan with a sign inviting pilgrims inside. It had a table, chairs, and small wood stove. I ate a snack and watched a hornet loop by and return to its corner nest. The place had a downtrodden energy and I soon moved on. The trail became a path through woods with giant fallen trees and clamshell-like signs – in Norwegian and English – that told stories of old land holdings. The forecast’s partly sunny skies did not materialize, I had my period, and I felt grody from 13 days without a shower. I decided to treat myself! After all, I also wanted this trail to be a cultural experience. I looked online and found a reasonably priced pilgrim cabin that included bathroom access and breakfast.

It was a mere three kilometer detour to access the small town of Berkåk. The route involved a busy highway shoulder walk, though on the bright side Norwegian drivers excel at giving pedestrians a wide berth. I navigated to Berkåk Veikro, a truck stop inside which I found a tiny motel counter. The attendant gave me the key to an adorable cabin, the interior lined entirely in fresh wood planks. There were two curtained windows, wood shelves and cabinets, and a tiny wood stove. I loved it! Straight off, I walked to the octagonal building that contained the bathroom. The shower felt amazing, though I dried off with paper towels as I didn’t get a linen package. In my one clean outfit, I returned to my tiny home, hung clothes to dry, and ate dinner. It was fun and luxurious!

Day 20

Even though there were a sunset and sunrise, it never actually got dark in between. My brain found the light comforting; my body found it confusing. I usually aimed for a 9 pm bedtime, knowing I’d wake between 3-4 am. The cabin’s curtains actually shut out enough light that I slept in until 7 am. I did a yoga session that felt amazing, then wandered over to breakfast. I was skeptical because I kept picturing an American truck stop and could not fit a buffet into the picture. The building had its share of convenience foods for travelers along with gas pumps out front. The end nearest the lodging had dining tables, a spread of hearty bread loaves and cereals, and a corner nook with a variety of foods you don’t see in an American breakfast: brie, lox, liver pate, baked beans, fresh raw veggies. I was most happy to see hard-boiled eggs, orange juice, and coffee, though I also ate brie and Norwegian brown cheese on veggies.

Prior to Berkåk, before crossing the river Orkla, the pilgrim path split into two routes, one that rose high above the river or a low one along its edge. I’d have preferred the high route anyway and to reach town I’d already done most of the climb. Rather than retracing all my steps, I took a gravel road that reconnected to the trail. There was a picnic table at the junction and Claudia, a Swiss pilgrim, invited me to sit. I’d hardly started my day, yet I was always ready to chat. It was her first pilgrimage as well and though she stayed in lodging, she did carry all her gear. I assumed that she was accustomed to hiking hilly terrain; Claudia replied that she actually lived in the flat part of Switzerland, near Germany and its Black Forest. She said Norway’s forests have more solitude.

It was a beautiful morning with blue sky and sunshine. I forged along grassy paths, admired small creeks, and took in spectacular river views. While passing through a well-kept backyard, I paused to examine a waterwheel. Beyond it I spotted a bench and cabinet marked with the pilgrim symbol. In the cabinet, I found a stamp with a fun hiking picture! A short time later I passed Claudia, then the path wound through an unwelcoming farm where I hopped a tightly closed gate, jumped over a boat, and ducked under a tractor bucket. Then it was down to paved road for a couple kilometers. On the next climb, a steep one, I caught up to Tim. He told me that I inspired him to wild camp for the first time. Then we discussed AI and building community in a time of political and social upheaval. Tim found hope in his faith in God. I agreed that faith in a better future can bring about change. He waved me onward as he paused for a break at the top.

The day’s second descent took me into Rennebu. Its church had a “101 km to Nidaros”marker out front. There was an old goods store that had been turned into a museum and which also served as the pilgrim center. It was closed, however it listed a caretaker’s number for visits outside the staffed hours. The number was in WhatsApp, which meant I could send a message. Joar Fjellstad replied that he’d be there in 15 minutes. When he arrived, I found out Tim was staying at his home for the evening. Joar let me into the museum and put two stamps in my passport. He told me about the old shop and offered a tour of Rennebu Church. I readily accepted and he drove us the short distance; it had begun to rain.

I thoroughly enjoyed Rennebu Church as seen through Joar’s eyes! It was built in a y-shaped design, which put the priest close to two wings of the congregation and allowed them to see one another’s faces. Joar showed me a brass baptism bowl from the 17th century and a bench carved with three creatures and a man. The cow and eagle were obvious, the lion didn’t look anything like one. Joar pointed out that Norwegians in that time had never seen a lion. Same with the altar, where the pelican looked like a gryphon. The altar had carved figures of the four evangelists. Joar told me about being a six year old boy, sitting through a service in that very church, thinking of dinner. To make time pass he came up with his own story for the figures. He said it’s important to find your own meaning in experiences and I agreed.

Joar told me that I could camp near the church and pointed out two possible spots. He also showed me a bathroom that I could access at any time. I chose the grassy field and set my tent up quickly in the midst of a light rain. It stayed dry inside. The rain didn’t last long and the sun peaked through the clouds. One of the groundkeepers came by and tapped on my tent. He pointed out the bathroom location and said he didn’t want to find toilet paper on the grounds. I would never leave toilet paper in the outdoors!

Day 21

At 7 am on a Sunday, the one kilometer paved road walk out of Rennebu was eerily quiet. The path turned onto gravel road that became trail and ascended a hillside. I was thinking that the path was way steeper than I recalled from last night’s route overview, when I checked and found myself off route. I course corrected, encountered an area of washed out hillside, and picked my way through the debris. Then came a series of gates through private pastures. Once back on the road, I passed a group of four, inquisitive, spotted cows.

Two hours along, I came upon the Orangeriet Cafeteria. I sat on a nearby dry bench with a lovely view and assembled a snack. A voice said hello and I turned to find a Norwegian lady opening the cafe. She offered a coffee and I passed, then she offered a stamp and I eagerly jumped up. She was opening the building for an American couple from New Jersey whom had stayed in her lodging. I met Jessica & Dan, who started the trail in Dovre and in a prior year had hiked part of a St. Olav route that started in Sweden. They were staying at the same accommodation as me that evening and invited me to join them for dinner. The couple took off while I continued my break.

The terrain vacillated from road walks to funky offshoots, which passed under a historic building, through a dark forest, along a quiet river, and amidst a swathe of trees downed in a microburst. My heart wasn’t totally in it. I reminded myself that I love walking, yet found myself impatient to reach my destination. Around 2 pm, I caught up to Jessica & Dan, ready to depart from a break beside a flowing creek. I continued on at my quicker pace. With 2.5 kilometers to Løkken Verk, I came upon a female pilgrim taking a break. Her name was Melle and she was Norwegian. She got up to walk with me into town. She’d done multiple Camino routes with her husband and figured she ought to check out her own country’s pilgrim route. Melle said that in Spain she often got waves and wishes of “buen camino”. Here she felt unrecognized in her endeavor. She’d also run out of food for the day and was hungry; she said there were lunch and dinner food stops in Spain. Personally I felt like the food options were super plentiful, however I am used to 5-7 day carries.

Soon we saw our lodging, Melle remarked how her tiredness had disappeared when she got to chatting with me. While I crossed the street, Melle headed toward an open pizzeria. Though I was in the Bergmannshuset building, I’d been told to check in at the Orkla Gjestebolig across the way. It was a beautiful, historic building and the desk attendant, Siv, offered me a free upgrade to a single room in the building, which she said was much nicer than my original booking. I accepted and signed up for the dinner, my first non-grocery store meal! My room was super cute and cheerful with a private bathroom that had a heated floor and a towel; ultimate luxury! I showered and changed into my clean outfit, a dress.

Downstairs I found Melle and met Michael from Germany and Theo from the Nederlands. We chatted and were soon joined by Jessica & Dan, who were also upgraded to the nicer building. We chatted about various trails. At 7 pm, we headed into the dining room. Siv served a traditional Norwegian soup with potatoes and flatbread. As the soup had meatballs, she’d made a vegetable version for me along and provided GF bread. The broth was delicious and flavorful. A cyclist couple, Susan & Ton, from the Nederlands arrived and sat nearby. Jessica was eagerly eyeing a large cake, which turned out to be the desert. I got a raspberry sorbet served over fruit. It was nice to join in on every aspect of the meal.

Following dinner, Siv related the building’s history. It belonged to Orkla Mining and didn’t open to the public until 2016. The building housed an impressive art collection and she walked us through the best known pieces. We then proceeded to the basement, which she’d slowly been cleaning. She told us how she found a cache of automatic rifles in a cold storage room and called the police to collect them. There was also a very old bottle of champagne and a collection of miscellaneous antiques, cups and so on, which were for sale. It was cheerful, for a basement, with bright white walls and the kitchen that had prepared our evening meal.

Day 22

Even though I went to bed late, I arose at 3:30 am in order to make coffee and find a good spot to Zoom into Film Club. The hotel had all sorts of comfortable nooks; I selected a couch near a window, far from the guest rooms. The others were finishing dinner as it was evening in San Diego. They all appreciated that I had gotten to shower; Lisa had once been stuck on a long plane ride next to an individual with significant BO and had not enjoyed the experience. Hobble-it taught me that it’s not considerate to force grunge on others. We discussed Bugonia and it was generally well liked, other than by Hugh and I who found it okay until the big plot twist then extremely disliked it. I hadn’t watched the second film so I said goodbye prior to that discussion.

During last night’s basement tour, I spotted a yoga mat in a room that contained workout equipment along with a massage table. I returned to the space and did a yoga session. Afterwards, I stopped at the first floor for coffee before returning upstairs via the carpeted main stairway. I loved the second floor landing mural, a winter scene of squirrels and birds, painted in 1912 by Norwegian artist Bernhard Folkestad. Outside it was pouring rain. I found a cozy nook with a table and chairs and passed time journaling and reading my guide book. Jessica & Dan departed around 11 am, planning to go nine kilometers to their next lodging, while Melle and Michael were staying another night.

At noon, I left the hotel and walked one block to the grocery store. I got lunch and enough food to reach Trondheim. Then I hiked out of town amidst a rain that came in waves, though in the beginning it was light enough that my pants dried in the lulls. My hiking spirit was back, apparently I simply needed a morning off! To counter the damp, I listened to music then started an audiobook. The route was mainly on roads, though it had a couple dirt sections that were slippery and made me glad for my poles. I passed a mailbox painted with a cute scene: mice under a mushroom to shelter from the rain.

The path dropped to cross the river Svorka via a bridge. Next to the remains of an old forge, I found the marker denoting 61 km to Nidaros. After I ascended a steep hill and turned onto a quiet gravel road, the rain fell harder and soaked my pants. I felt my shirt get damp under my rain jacket. I consoled myself that I was only going 15 km and would then camp by a nice shelter with a toilet. A couple kilometers later, the path took me along the shore of a large lake and the rain let up entirely. I passed a second lake, got water from a spigot, and reached the shelter. It was very luxurious with a couple couches, tables, and cushioned seats. Seeing a couple mosquitos, I set up my tent in the grass. The rain began a short time later and continued all night.

Day 23

My awesome tent didn’t leak a drop of rain, however condensation slid down the sloped roof as I jostled it while packing. I decided I’d eat breakfast in the luxurious shelter and take my tent down afterwards. The prior evening, I laid my wet soaks and shoe insoles on a table beneath a heat lamp. I found them entirely dry and put them on. As I heated hot water, I noticed that I was under attack by a cloud of minuscule, biting bugs. I mixed instant coffee into my water, grabbed it and my breakfast, and retreated to my tent. Later, the bugs swarmed while I took down my tent. I put it in my pack’s mesh, tightened the pack cover, and hurriedly departed the area.

Almost immediately, the path entered a vast marshland. My feet were soon wet from sinking into spongy or muddy ground, though travel in the bog was easier than I expected as long stretches were traversed by wood boardwalks. I observed several beautiful Heath Spotted Orchids and a plentitude of Common Cottongrass. Near an unexpected privy , I stopped for spigot water and was passed by a trail runner. The path regained solid ground and entered quiet forest. Perhaps five kilometers later, I arrived at Skaun Church. I ate lunch and dried my tent through a combination of patchy sunshine and a light breeze.

The path alternated between road and forest. Eventually, the landscape opened up and I enjoyed a sweeping view of the fjord arm Gaulosen. The descent began on a winding multi-use path then took a dirt trail shortcut straight down the hill. After the recent rain, it was steep and slick; I could see why a white, knotted rope had been strung along its length. I ignored the rope in favor of my trusty hiking poles, though otherwise I’d have needed its assistance in spots. At the bottom, the path turned onto a paved promenade alongside the waterline. From above, I’d noted dark patches in the water and they were revealed to be sandbars. Seagulls swooped and called out.

It being my last night on trail, I was determined to camp. I had tentatively planned on Øysand Camping, however, I didn’t care for the windy, exposed beach. I ended up hiking another 12 km before I found a spot. About 75% of it was flat, as the trail did a long, looping detour to cross the river Gaula. When it rose several hundred feet in a kilometer, I began to run out of steam and dinner thoughts crowded my head. Shortly past the ‘14 km to Nidaros’ marker, I camped in a hilly, forested area called Kastberga. I smiled contentedly at my vegetation-filled view.

Day 24

I woke up nestled in my partially deflated air mattress. For a couple weeks, I’ve had to blow it up one to two times a night, though I’d gotten used to it and impacting the ground didn’t wake me, unless I was on my side. Following breakfast, I lingered in my tent, sipping coffee and journaling. The sun broke free of scattered clouds and lured me from my tent. I walked for several kilometers before I encountered two Norwegians with a cute dog; they were walking to Trondheim from their neighborhood. Soon the trail took a variety of multi-use trails and I saw a lot of folks; walking, running, and cycling. I found it refreshing to see so many people enjoying nature. There was even an activity camp where young children clad in bright orange vests clambered around rocks and dragged large tree limbs.

A final climb revealed Trondheim, then the path took me around a pond which contained many ducks. The last four kilometers were along city streets, though the path dipped down to a river and took stairs up through a park before I came around a corner and saw Nidaros Cathedral. It had an imposing and decorative facade. I took a picture with the zero marker then walked once around the cathedral (the medieval pilgrim walked around three times) before I entered it. The interior was beautiful, particularly the stained glass combined with the well-lit arched roof and giant pipe organ. After exploring the cathedral, I went to the pilgrim center where two kind Norwegian ladies reviewed my passport, asked about my journey, and gave me my final stamps plus St. Olav Letter.

I talk a lot about stamps therefore I’ll share a picture of my favorites.