Backpacking Norway

From Italian vineyards to Norwegian peaks

Four of us boarded a plane from Milan to Oslo early Sunday morning, after raving in a 17th century monastery until the wee hours of the morning for our friends’ Italian fairytale wedding. Tired and cranky, we touched down in Norway in the early afternoon and made our way in our rental EV to Lillihammer, the site of the 1994 Winter Olympics.

Ben’s love for the beautiful country of Norway was our primary reason for our trip. He guided in the small valley of Skjåk for eight seasons over eight years. He led rafting, canyoning, sea kayaking, whitewater paddleboarding and kayaking, caving, climbing, mountaineering—you get the gist. I knew he spoke the language and that Norway was special to him, but I had no idea the extent to which he had left his imprint on the small valley of Skjåk.

Lillehammer is about halfway to Skjåk from Oslo. Some of Ben’s old buddies live there, and we arrived just in time for dinner, glassy-eyed and exhausted. When one of us suggested a post-dinner walk, we had no idea what we were in for.

Adventure is a way of life in Norway.

From a young age, kids are introduced to cross country skiing, backpacking, camping and water sports as a way to not only connect with nature, but also to quite literally commute from one valley to another, one mountaintop to another. A post dinner walk (the Norwegian word for hike translates to “walk in the woods”) turned into a 3 mile hike up a raging waterfall. The mist blew our hair back as we breathed in the fresh Norwegian air. It was quite the transition from the vineyards of Piedmont.

The last of the sun disappeared behind the treetops as we descended countless steps, back into the valley through the old Olympic village. We laughed about how we’d imagined walking a few blocks around the neighborhood, and yet this was exactly what our spirits needed.

The next day we made our way to Skjåk, the small valley of about 2000 people where Ben first landed in the summer of 2004. Not much has changed since then, apparently. Our home for the next five days was Sota Sæter, a mountain hotel or “summer farm” (as “sæter” translates). Ben’s friend Ove and his wife Silje run the show there, cooking, cleaning and leading adventures for up to 60 people at a time. We caught the tail end of their summer season, which also coincided with the peak of reindeer hunting season.

Going into this trip, I knew Norway had an extensive hut system and I really wanted to backpack. But since we had to pack for both an Italian wedding and a Norwegian adventure trip, we had decided to ditch the sleeping bags and backpacks for heels and warm clothes. However, it is my experience that when you take time to really envision something, it will happen no matter what.

We arrived in Norway utterly unprepared for the cold or the adventures ahead, but Ben’s friends made sure we were fed, clothed, layered up, and geared up. Ove had booked a hut nearby, “Sotjønnbu,” for his hunter guests, but when the reindeer were spotted on a different mountain, Sotjønnbu became available. He urged us to hike there, promising the best view ever. Just as we were about to leave, Silje checked the weather and saw that a snowstorm was moving in overnight. Thankfully, she sent us off with gloves!

So, we embarked on 4 hour trip up to the hut, covering 3,000 ft of elevation gain in just 3.8 miles. The weather was great on the way up, and our spirits were high. We ate wild blueberries by the handful, marveled at mountain goats and snapped photos as the valley below us grew smaller. We hiked up and over a distinct ridgeline, where the wind picked up and the terrain shifted from wet trails to jagged rocks. After descending past two gorgeous alpine lakes, and one sketchy creek crossing, we finally reached the cabin (pictured here).

That night we ate “matpakke” (Norwegian for “packed lunch”), which consisted of ham and cheese sandwiches and chocolate bars. We even found a bag of mashed potatoes in the hut, which we cooked up by adding water, giggling about how “potetmos” sounded like Potat-mush. They were delicious. We huddled next to the wood stove and played Euchre as we listened to the storm blow in….

After a sleepless night due to the wind rattling the cabin, we woke to a world covered in white. We rationed our remaining food and gathered the courage to head into the storm. The first two miles were brutal—battling 70 mph winds and twisting our ankles on jagged rocks, deceptively flattened by the snow cover. But two miles into the hike, we suddenly found ourselves out of the clouds, looking down at Sota Sæter in the valley below. A massive rainbow appeared out of nowhere, letting us know we were exactly where we needed to be.

Seeing Ben in his element, just a month after getting engaged, was a highlight of our 4.5 years together. He even got the opportunity to guide a canyoning trip after a 12 year hiatus! Old friends were excited to see him, and young guides felt like they were meeting a legend. He ran into old friends he hadn’t seen in a decade at the grocery store. An early 2000s low-quality whitewater video he and some friends uploaded to YouTube, “Skjåk Invasion,” still circulates among young guides today. I’m truly in awe of the man I get to marry, and I feel so lucky that I got to experience this beautiful country through his eyes. Norway, we will be back!