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Day seven: Lofoten flyby
Senja - Fauske (400 km)

I know. For a day dedicated to eating miles, 400km isn't that impressive, but hear me out: It's coastal Northern Norway. Remember the day one post, where I chose the Sweden-Finland option to shorten the ride? This is the reason. For long stretches of the coast, you can NOT use normal factors to predict your progress, because it may not be that far, but it is super wrinkly. Same thing applies to the west coast further south, distances aren't what you're used to. You need more sleeps than the number of kilometres suggest.

The first 60 or so kms I'm still on Senja. My hosts had already left for work when I woke up, they start ridiculously early. So I point my CB north and take in some of what Senja has to offer:





I did a true touristy thing for this picture, I just stopped right there and snapped it.


On the north-west corner of Senja lies the tiny village of Gryllefjord, which is (I need a thesaurus) very pretty.


There are a few ways to continue the journey from Senja, and two of them are ferries. The most popular of those ferries leave from Gryllefjord three times a day, for a ninety minute passage to Andenes at the top of the very pretty island chain of Lofoten. I picked this option, and came to town an hour before departure. Wonder where a significant portion of all camper vans on the planet are in the summer time? They're waiting for the ferry in Gryllefjord. This goes on through the entire village. It's ALL a ferry queue.



The French lady who was in the very first camper van in the queue for the 11:00 ferry had seen three ferries leave without her the day before.

Bikes? Go right to the front and embark first. Nice. I was in town for less than an hour.



Leaving Senja:







Andenes is host to one of Norway's largest air force bases, and includes a (at least partially) non-military rocket base, where we among other things launch satellites. It's quite big and I'm going to stop saying that it's extremely beautiful because it can't ALL be, right?

No pics. I just pushed on through Lofoten, where all the rest of the camper vans are. No pictures can do Lofoten justice, and I have to say that despite the amount of camper vans (and their cargo), despite an acquired taste for tourism derived income (they charge for everything), I have to recommend Lofoten. It's absolutely unique.

Of course, if you're still reading this, another mountain panorama won't make much a difference, but here:


I have to take a break. The Lofoten leg of my ride ended around 4PM or so. I'm having another unphotographed gas station burger while I'm waiting for the next ferry, which I absolutely know is the right one, and I also absolutely know I'll be on it. I'll finish this later. There are clouds ahead.

Extraordinary Hovmod.

My goodness what a great ride report with outstanding pics. As I sit here and read, I laugh, as I imagine Hovmod would, at my translation of some of the names, which I am sure sound nothing like what I am saying in my head.

What a beautiful and fascinating place.

And I had no idea that Norway, bordered Russia. Geographically challenged I am.

You deserve a break, Hovmod. You’ve been riding and writing hard. And nearly had a very nasty accident. I’m glad you didn’t.

Thanks for a great report and wonderful pictures.

Hovmod, I will repeat again, great trip and report backed by photos... you are a true motorcycle Viking.
Enjoy your journey and have a safe return home.

I already returned home, Peter! Sorry for giving the impression this was still going on.
All of this report was written safe back in my couch.

Thank you for all the praise. Feels a bit like you're giving credit to the pots and pans for a great meal, you know what I mean? I know the pictures are OK - some are even pretty damn good, tbh - but I am reminded about what Neal Preston said about that kickass picture he took of Robert Plant on stage with a white dove in his hand: "If you are a photographer on tour with Led Zeppelin and you can't get a great shot of Robert Plant, you should probably sell donuts".
Day Seven continued:

The ferry that runs between Skarberget and Bognes on Hamarøy is the only one left on the E6. What I mean is that there used to be more, but decades of building extraordinarily complicated and expensive systems of bridges and tunnels has cut down the number of inescapable ferry crossings on the main "highway" in Norway to this one.

I am now (in your head, Peter, not in reality - I'm safe at home petting my cat) on the other ferry that goes to Bognes, and I got on it in Lødingen in Lofoten.
Like I said in my last post, I am on the right ferry, it's running on time, it's all good, and I'm now on Hamarøy, which you should know is very pretty. I'm also guessing that some of you will have deduced that 'øy' means island, so Hamarøy is an island, and many people are perfectly happy going to Hamarøy for their vacations. It doesn't have to be just another rock between you and your destination, it is perfectly fine in and of itself. You can plan a ride in Northern Norway and go to Hamarøy, that's perfectly fine. It's stunning. The mountains are stunning. There are things to do. Go see the Knut Hamsun museum. Hamsun is our only Nobel Prize winning author, known for the very very good book "Growth of the Soil" and for the very very not so great act of shaking hands with Hitler. You can take the ferry to Lofoten, look around, and escape back to Hamarøy. Many Norwegians have been to Northern Norway but have never been as far north as Hamarøy. Northern Norway's just a gift that keeps on giving.

Not me. For me, on this day, Hamarøy is just another very pretty rock between me and my destination. I'm pushing on, and my goal is to get as close to Helgeland as possible.

Because on the island of Flatøy in Helgeland, a good friend of mine is expecting me to arrive on a ferry, and I want to get there and take off my leather. Push on.

I don't have pictures. I pushed on. I'm now on E6, remember, and a part of E6 that has all the traffic to and from Lofoten AND to and from Skarberget, so now it feels even more like a main motorway, and it's getting darker. It starts to rain. I get a squirt of windshield wiper fluid from the guy ahead of me right in my face. This is not the way. I stop at a guest house next to a lovely waterfall and approach the reception, but the guy behind the counter is alone at work, and he has too many things to do. He's rude to the lady in front of me, and he's rude to me, and I'm in no mood for rude. I just left, pulled on my rain gear, and kept riding. So that's how I got to Fauske. I found a hotel, got a room, and spent the most expensive night on the ride in the least interesting place. But all my stuff dried during the night, and Fauske was near enough to Helgeland, this is good!

Day seven ended without further drama, and so does this post.

Day eight: "Rødøy? Then you're on the wrong ferry."
Fauske - Trondheim (747 km)

All through this ride I have been waking up really early in the mornings, significantly earlier than I usually do. Fauske hotel was no exception, I'm ready for breakfast at about 8. But my friend has asked me to bring some wine, and the wine shop opens at 10. I need something from the pharmacy that opens at 10 as well, so I just wait. Nothing happened in Fauske on a Friday night in the middle of tourist season, and absolutely nothing happened on Saturday morning. But it's not raining, at least, and the rain last night got the temperatures down to very acceptable. I'm going to Flatøy, and it is going to be awesome!

To get to Flatøy, I have to get to Jektvik and take a ferry to Rødøy, where I'll park the Honda. There is no infrastructure on Flatøy, my friend will pick me up in a small boat.

This is the northern end of FV17 (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norwegian_..._Road_17), and I'm pretty excited. This is a premium motorcycle road in a landscape you have to see to believe.
My tolerance for camper vans has lowered, though, so I try not to stop at the spots with the highest camper van density, which obviously means I'm missing out on the best photo opportunities. Here, for instance, is my picture of Svartisen, one of our largest remaining glaciers.



A few hundred meters further along the road, I could have gotten a MUCH BETTER PICTURE, but there were a million camper vans there, so you don't get to see.

What do the mountains look like if the glaciers that used to be there melt, I hear you ask.



The first ferry of the day takes me from Halsa to Ågskardet. I had to wait about two hours, one of several reasons why FV17 takes so much more time than E6, but it is SO worth it! Talked to a couple of Swedes on the quay, one was on a brand new Multistrada V4, the other one on a completely beat up HD. They had stopped many times a day to repair the Harley. For instance, earlier in the day, it had dropped one of the (loud) pipes. Just off. Plop. This wasn't a 100% bike, I'd hesitate to give it 50%. Loved to see the two of them, a perfectly unmatched pair, tolerating each other's equipment choices and going on a ridiculously long ride together.

Apparently, and I say this because I really don't know, but apparently, there are some ferries where they don't let bikers cut the line and get on first, but this one wasn't one of those:



The view from upper deck:



There's a leg of about 30km between Ågskardet and Jektvik, and I had a fever, and the only cure was more cowbell. I grabbed all the throttle I could find and left everybody behind, bikes and camper vans and all. Well, except this one Spaniard on a Pan American, he kept up.

Fantastic riding! Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!

Anyway, that piece of self-incriminating information is included to help you understand how what went wrong could go wrong: I was in a certain state of mind, see, and my think didn't work like normal.

I get to the Jektvik ferry quay, and there's a boat there with its bow wide open. There are no cars on the quay, so I go all the way to the boat and gesture a little. The gate goes up again! I roll on board, and as I'm strapping the CB down, the ferry leaves Jektvik.

"I'm just going to Rødøy", I said, "to spend the night with good friends".

Ferry guy: "Rødøy? This ferry doesn't go there". :o

I now have a full hour to figure out what to do, so I make some calls and check all the maps and the conclusion is clear:
There are no alternatives!

If I want to get to Flatøy, I have to take the same ferry back, and then get on the right one.

So I talk to the crew and get the OK to just stay onboard, they even let me know I won't be charged for the return. So I tell my friend, but in the meantime they have found out that I'm not going to make the last ferry to Rødøy.

Unlike the rest of this tale, I am now going to make a long story short: I made the decision to go home.

I think maybe one of those mountains is on Rødøy, the famous Rødøy Lion, but I'm not sure. For the sake of this narrative, you're looking at the death of my plan, this is (maybe) Flatøy in the rear view.




I disembark, and now I have new choices: get back on E6 or continue on FV17?
I made a compromise. FV17 from Kilboghavn to Nesna, then from Levang I can take the 78 to Mosjøen, where I rejoin the E6.

If 78 to Mosjøen looks suspiciously straight on the map, it's because it is a tunnel. All of it, pretty much, is a hole through the mountain. So I'm in Mosjøen just like that!

Mosjøen is 390 kms from home. I get gas, a gas station burger, and leave at about eight o'clock. E6 from Mosjøen? I did this bit already, in the very fist post. I'm *almost* on home turf. Some form of inner cruise control sets in, and I just ride. I'm almost alone, apparently the camper vans have gone to sleep.
When I got to Namsskogan, I had the first feeling of "damn, I'm gonna make it all the way!", and when I got gas, coffee, and a shot of the first sunset of the whole trip (midnight sun, remember?) in Steinkjer, I knew I wasn't stopping unless it felt unsafe to ride. It didn't. I felt alert and focused, even though rain and wind and dusk made a caleidoscope of everything.

This is me, letting my girlfriend know I'm just two hours from home:


And that's the report. I know it feels a bit anti-climactic, but writing this feels a bit like the ride itself did, it's over, I just have to not screw up and park this thing in the right spot now.

I never expected to make it all the way home from Fauske. If I had planned to go all the way home from Fauske, I wouldn't have gone on FV17 at all, and I still wouldn't have expected to make it. But once I left Mosjøen, I was in the zone and I made it all the way home from Fauske in one day.
747 km, including one right and one wrong ferry, and many kilometres on FV17.
This entire ride has been amazing, and I would go again tomorrow, but it was a truly wonderful feeling to walk in my own door to find Marita waiting up.

Exhale.

Thanks for reading and commenting, it has been fun!

I went north, and it was AWESOME!

Great report. Spectacular photos. Thanks for sharing it.

What an enjoyable read! Thank you Havmod for bringing us along.