My summer that year was busy. First house hunting, then Stetind, then house moving. The trip to Trollheimen was booked in advance, but it wasn't until two weeks to go that I bought a map for the area. I settled on a peak bagging trip that followed a Z shaped route on the map. My plan was to explore the southern mountains in a westerly direction, before roughtly heading north east climbing more summits and finally head west to climb the northerly summits of Trollheimen. That was the plan, but the reality was quite different. Two days or so before going, it was becoming clear on the weather forecasts that the first few days at least were going to be rather autumnal. A series of deep low pressure systems were forecast to sweep in causeing proplonged spells of rain. This didn't look like a trip I was going to enjoy. Friday 26th August From the airport, I took a train up to Oppdal. Unlike my experience from three years ago, the train was on time. Inside it was comfortable. Considering my ticket cost only £17, 2nd class felt more like first class with loads of room for my legs and a seat that could recline without imposing on the passenger behind me. I arrived in Oppdal at 8pm and set off on a mission to find some gas at this late hour. Quite easy as it was, as the shell pertrol station sold it. Rather than waiting for the 21.30 bus, I tried my luck at hitchhiking, I was waiting no more than 10 minutes before a lift arrived.  At Oppdal Station The people offering a lift were on their way back from a walk themselves. We talked about Trollheimen, and they said I shouldn't give Innerdalen a miss, apparently one of the most beautiful valleys in Norway. My destination was a campsite listed on the map at Krokbygda just off highway 70. However upon arriving there, a man came out of a house and told me there was no campsite here, despite a few caravans on a grassy field. Apparently the campsite was further along the side road at Vollan. Getting to this other farm, nothing looked very campsite'ish about it. There were no toilets, and only a hose in a bucket full of green water for a water supply. It was also empty so I just put my tent up in the failing light after a long day. When someone did arrive, I enquired about it's campite status. They said they did allow campers and normally charge 50kr but for me it was free. The usual 50kr sounded a bit harsh considering that not even the most basic requirements for hygiene are provided for, not even a toilet. Saturday 27th August
A path headed along further back from the river, and became more distinct further along. Here a bridge was used to cross the river and progress north along Volladalen could now be made. This used to be an official DNT route but has since been abandoned from their literature. Only remmants of the path remain, but despite this progress was along easy ground and so little time was lost. At the head of the valley, a confluence of the stream was met at a point where the vegatation was thinning out at 1250m. I had planned to camp here, but it was lunchtime and the weather was still dry. I decided to continue north over the west shoulder of Svartdalskollen (1615m) to camp on the slopes sitting above Storlidalen. Reaching higher ground, the views opened out further. It was clear to me that the grim weather forecast wasn't materialising. The visibility was very good despite the overcast cloud. The wind was chilly and occasional flakes of snow drifted past me. It certainly felt like the beginnings of Autumn! This high mountain landscape was broadly gentle, but with wide vistas to more rugged mountains further west and north.
The descent from the high ground, down to the lake at Grugguskaret saw me back in a greener, more welcoming landscape. A drop of just 300m made the temperatures more hospitable too. That evening I camped above Storidalen, at Grahaugen. The clouds were clearing slowly, but the wind was strong and cold. I changed my plans to climb some more interesting looking summits out west. Glimpses of the pinnacles and mountains of Innerdalen could be seen out west, reminiscent of the first sightings of Glen Coe as seen from Rannoch Moor. Sunday 28th August
The path from Tovatnet headed due west to the watershed with Innerdalen. At this point there's a path junction, and I headed northwest up higher ground to the eastern extremity of Langvatnet. The ground here was a patchwork of boulder fields and extensive fields of old snow. I left the path to head up the slopes of Slanglifjellet. The slopes and subsequent eastern ridge were convex in nature, so the toil of not having the summit cairn in sight proved agonising. Upon reaching the summit, the cairn was both large and the views extensive. Neådalsnota sat out to the northeast while my full view of the Innerdalen summits presented a series of serrated peaks with some wild glaciers providing a forbidding feel to the mountains.
The weather bulletin I received on the summit talked of a storm arriving tomorrow, and suggested winds tonight would pick up. My destination tonight was Innerdalshytta, so I would be sheltered from the worst of its effects. The weather became more showery as the day wore on, but with none being more than light drizzle. I descended back down to the path at langvatnet. The western extremity of this lake sits right above a large 150m cliff, effectively damming it. Below the cliff, the path descends Renndalen along pleasant green grassy meadows at an altitude of 850m - very much reminiscent of a scottish glen rather than the more interesting vegetation I normally see in Norway. Further down the glen, the path dedscended more steeply and became rougher in nature with more rocks and roots conspiring to slow me down. In the forest itself, one section of the path had suffered landslip and bad erosion. It leveled out to traverse a steep slope that gradually turned into a gorge. It was an exposed but spectacular finale to what was a very fine day out. I emerged onto the track leading back up to Innerdalshytta where I camped below the spectacular summit of Innerdalstarnet. Monday 29th August
The valley turned east and the path finally began to rise up out of the forest. At this point the rain stopped. Gradually I gained that feeling that the weather was improving. Both the cloud above was breaking up, and my path was improving the higher I went. By the time I got to the upper part of the valley I was starting to get worried about sunburn, and the path all the while just got better. What a contrast! By the time I reached the watershed (where I was yesterday), it was looking like a wonderful day. The forecasts were all wrong, or so I thought. Descending back to Tovatna one thing became apparent. The wind was increasing in sharp squalls. I could hear the trees away from me shuddering violently in the force of such squalls. The eastern end of Tovatna was where I would camp tonight. I hoped that the trees would break the wind and shelter me from the worst of the storm. It was 2pm and by the time I got my tent up, the winds had reached gale force and suprisingly there was not a cloud in the sky.
By 4pm, the winds were picking up spray from the lake and tossing it across the valley, the edge of the approaching front was spotted to the northwest. This was not the time to be caught out on the summit ridges. In less than an hour the frontal edge had arrived and the rain started to fall. This was all very dramatic for me, as I had associated weather fronts with giving more warning than this, but this was differnt. I settled down to a noisy night of shuddering trees, and occasional pulls on the tent fabric. I knew nothing of Hurricane Katrina landing at the same time on the coast of Louisiana many thousands of miles away. Tuesday 30th August  Looking east down Gjevillvatnet Just east of a Quarry on the road, my path headed off north to the saddle west of Okla (1564m). Here a path junction is met and you turn left to make a rising traverse up the hillside. Higher up, a chilly wind was still blowing, but the views out east along Gjevillvatn compensated for that. The path was generally of good quality along this route and swift progress could be made along it. At another path junction north of Vassendsetra, I decided to climb a slope to camp at a higher hanging valley. My plan for the following day was to traverse northeast across the summits of Indre Gjevillvasskamben and Blåhøa. Putting my tent up at 1250m, the wind had nearly died down completely. This was the start of when things went very wrong. I tried lighting my stove. The slight wind prevented a spark igniting the gas. But unfortunately the flint on the gas lighter broke off and it jammed up. So I used my reserve lighter for the job, unfortunately by a really nasty stroke of bad luck, that lighter broke too. I was gutted. An attempt to repair the lighter proved futile. It was no good, I was now on emergency rations after looking forward to a decent meal. My plans for the next day were scuppered and I had no option but to head northeast to Trollheimshytta and hope that they sold matches or gas lighters. |
