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Norway by 125
Norway by 125
What do you do as a 16-year-old 125cc rider when dad really wants to go to the North Cape with his buddy and big bike? Exactly, you chat with both of them until you can come along with ten horsepower plus a girlfriend.
Annette Johann, Alexander Klose
I feel like Danny de Vito with the SR 125.
Frank with his 100 hp big block next to me stands for Arnold. Twins like out of the movie dud Twins? Not quite. Rudiger with his very old 500cc Honda from the early seventies makes us more like triplets. However, the film and triumvirate of our machines have one thing in common: All laughs are on our side. There are also unsolicited tips, from tow ropes to replacement engines. Unimaginative ignoramuses, even with 125 cubic meters you can have a lot of fun. Especially on a tour through Norway, where sunbathing by the fjord and a summer quick ball fight on the fells are very close together, where bubbling waterfalls, roaring torrents and vast crystal clear lakes determine the picture. But one after anonther. Ascension somewhere in Germany: Dad and his best motorcycle friend are planning a trip to the Nordland at the grill next to a fragrant sausage. There is only one catch: the travel plans take place without me. Strong piece. Also thinks is Nadine, daughter of buddy Rudiger and quite nice. She speculates on one of the free pillion seats, I on the first big tour with my 125cc. So, it’s high time for an objection: “Hey, we want to go with you!” Forehead wrinkles that were initially astonished turn into a pleasant surprise at some point. Cool Norway we are coming! Almost three months later. We start the engines. One turn of the throttle valve, release the clutch, and my eight-liter, Rudiger’s 500 Four and Dad’s 1200 Bandit are rolling north from the Harz. First on the A 7, then across the border on Denmark’s Jutland motorway. A tough number for everyone involved: at some point I can barely feel my bottom, and Dad and Rudiger’s nerves are extremely strained. 80 km / h top speed is almost unbearable, they grumble during the first break. If only we had taken the ferry from Kiel! Too late. We have to go through now. At some point, after an infinite number of dead straight kilometers, we actually reach Hirtshals. Nine hours of sleep to Oslo. And hope that everything will be better then. It will. Because in Norway the speed limit and the SR-Topspeed make a common cause? If you drive faster than 80, you will be greeted by a ticket from a friendly official who already collects pocket money-unfriendly 100 marks for five km / h over it. The absolute horror: 20 km / h excess cost 500 marks and the driver’s license. Good cards for me. So we “arrow” through the land of trolls and fairies, leaving the Tyri and Randsfjords and the densely wooded hills and scattered houses that surround them behind us. Behind Dokka the mountains get higher and the air even clearer, which the little Yamaha seems to do best. With a whopping 70 on the speedometer, curve robbers are now the order of the day. Unfortunately, after a while we have to turn onto the busy E 16. The previous loneliness – about one car an hour? now gives way to slow traffic. Not for Frank. Without further ado, he sets the indicator and turns into a dusty dirt road. Stories of my grandfather come true, who in the sixties took a Heinkel scooter down Norway’s gravel roads. At that time he set up his tent somewhere in the great outdoors. As we do today. To be honest, the next morning we are very happy to be back on tarred road no. 53 soon. At full throttle we conquer ?? or at least me – now the landscape of the fells. To the right and left of the road piles of snow and rock slabs pile up, only covered with a little moss or courageously blooming plants that actually only exist in spring. Otherwise no life far and wide, but soon the asphalt strip slopes towards the valley and the picture changes. Lush pastures spread out next to the piste, sheep and goats trot across the road, forcing us into the waiting loop. Then suddenly tunnels, narrow and pitch black, the road soaking wet from the dripping ceiling. Oh shit, in the middle of it a hair-sharp right turn with bumps at the apex. Phew – just packed. The parking space at the end of the tunnel comes as if called. To take a deep breath, but also to enjoy the view into the depths of the turquoise Sognefjord, with 204 kilometers Norway’s longest fjord. Ferries are part of Norway’s roads like guardrails or traffic lights elsewhere. With around ten to 15 marks per crossing, you discovered the only inexpensive one in Norway. Because holidays high up in the north are not a special offer. The cigarette for 80 pfennigs, the beer in the supermarket for five marks. Our machines keep rolling. My brave SR, speed at the limit, drives me from zero to 1434 meters, in the middle of the Jotunheimen National Park, through rugged mountains covered with eternal ice that stretch another 1000 meters higher. This is followed by the mega descent to Lom. The next morning the route towards Strynfjellet climbs only slightly. My machine is like a troll possessed. Without falling below the maximum permissible speed, the single cylinder now climbs the inclines almost as if in flight. Further up we turn off to Geiranger and finally up the dusty slope to the Dalsnibba lookout point. Bizarre mountain ranges seem to hold the Geirangerfjord in the valley. There is just enough space on the bank for the town of Geiranger. From above it looks like a sleepy nest. On closer inspection ?? Incidentally, we unequal triplets are currently rolling in the middle of a Harley column – but a place besieged by crowds of tourists. You can find everything from the hotel brand »Betonklotz« to plastic rollers. Away quickly. And then it’s uphill again. Despite the throttle at the stop, the Harley lost in front of me. But only until the next departure. In the sharp bends, the little car is in top form and is quite a match for the heavy US car. On the next ferry across the Storfjord we stand side by side as well as on the top of the Trollstigen pass. But here’s a nasty surprise! A leaden wall of clouds dripping with moisture in Romsdalen below us keeps Norway’s old rule true: sun in the south, rain in the north. Or the other way around. Don’t feel like having a wet bum. The others see it the same way. So we’re stuck with the North Cape, slowly heading south again, paying a visit to Hardangervidda and Setesdalen. I’m not angry about the now shorter stages, the calluses on the buttocks need protection. This leaves more time for sunbathing here or a hike there. Like the one to the Brikdalsbreen glacier tongue that Nadine and Frank have put in their heads. Get rid of the motorcycle rift. They trudge upwards on foot and in summer outfits. Rudiger and I stay downstairs, somebody has to take care of the machines and the luggage. Our two bervagabonds reappear around four hours later. Man, what have they all experienced. But that leaves me cold for now. At least up to home, where the photos show turquoise ribs of ice, meters high. Above it a huge monster, shining snow-white in the blue sky. An ice giant that is now growing again 18 centimeters per day after having been less and less for 200 years. But also Rudiger and I come to our glacier? without messing about. Immediately after the long Fjærland tunnel, through which the small SR roars like a big one, another tongue of the mighty Jostedalsbreen slides into the valley to the left of the road. Nadine and Frank wave bored away. What the hell. After all, a glacier is a glacier. Back at the Sognefjord, the ferry crossing from Hela to Vangsnes is due. Time enough for a Gold Wing rider from Belgium to think hard about whether traveling with the 125cc can still be pleasant. He needs it. In any case, we circle the next few meters through the curves together. Up to the 12th century Hopperstad stave church, which has been preserved almost in its original form. By the way, it doesn’t just look like an upside-down Viking ship at first glance. Blueprints of churches of this type actually resemble the ocean-going companions. It’s uphill again. But the 125cc still buzzes as unimpressed as on the first day. Rudiger realizes that he probably took too many tools with him. After the barren, almost vegetation-free highlands, the huge, widely ramified Hardangerfjord now shapes the picture. On the ferry passage that follows, inevitably, we get to know a few BMW pilots from Hamburg. You are practically on an extended weekend trip to the fjord. We drive in a group to Latefoss, one of the most beautiful waterfalls in the north. In front the Bavarian powerhouses, in the back Honda and Bandit, my little cruiser in the middle again. It’s good that the people of Hamburg keep an eye on the speed limit, and then it happens. In Haukelifjell a summery variant of Scandinavian bad weather catches us. Bad winds lash downpours over the slopes. The inlets of the motorcycle gear have been due again for a long time. Rain suits ?? lie at home. A biker friend talked us out of it: “Your clothes are tight anyway, so no one needs rain skins anymore.” His luck that he was right. Not until a good two hours later do we retreat to a cozy hut in Setesdalen. The last quarter of our trip. What is still missing until home is the already familiar scenario: ferry, this time from Kristiansand, then the boring trip through Denmark, later the obligatory traffic jam in the Elbe tunnel and the remaining kilometers on the A 7 towards home . Then I’ll have 3500 kilometers more on the speedometer and, above all, in the rear. Praise to the never tired Yamaha. Although I feel a very slight tremor when I gently stroke her over the tank and make it clear that the north of Norway has not been forgotten, just postponed – to next year.
Norway, the country full of contrasts, is definitely one of the most beautiful regions in Europe, spoiled with ingenious routes, fjords and mountains – for northern Germans the tried and tested alternative to the distant Alps. Those who take a little time will find what they are looking for on every corner and can even manage the route without any problems in a family group with minimal engines.
Arrival / ferry: Via Hamburg on the A 1 to Kiel to Oslokai or on the A 7 and the Jutland motorway via Denmark to Frederikshavn, Hirtshals or Hanstholm to the ferry ports there. The passage from Kiel to Oslo takes around 19 hours and is actually the ideal way because you can spend the night on board and not only relax, but also gain a whole day of vacation. Price per person and motorcycle from around 266 marks each way. The Hirtshals-Oslo ferry connection only appears to be a cheaper alternative at first glance. You only pay 147 marks per person and machine per passage, but you have the disadvantage of the long, tiring journey. In addition, you are at sea during the day and only reach Oslo in the evening. From Hirtshals you can also translate to Kirstiansand, prices also from 147 marks. Information in every travel agency, at the ADAC or as a large overview in the MOTORRAD ferry special in issue 15/1999. Travel time: Between the beginning of June and mid-September you can visit the land of the Vikings with a clear conscience. It will be almost ideal if you can then start during a stable Scandinavian high. By the way, there is a very reliable rule of thumb when it comes to weather: If it is nice in the south, then the north often has to contend with bad weather and vice versa. You should definitely pack weatherproof and warm clothing. The route: The original plan to drive to the North Cape was modified in favor of a lap through southern Norway. Even if the weather was decisive, the decision, especially with regard to the small 125cc, was more than right. Because a North Cape tour means one thing above all: eat up kilometers. When it was abandoned, the four had only managed the first third of the way there. And with it the most beautiful part. Because if you are looking for the scenic highlights of Norway, you won’t find them in the far north, but in the south. And not on the through pistes either, but on the small mountain roads that can easily fill a three-week holiday. Spending the night: Norway has always been a camping destination. Hotels are subject to luxury tax and are therefore quite expensive. Huts (Hytter), which can be rented everywhere, should be the best place to stay for bikers. The camping price is around ten marks per night and nose. A four-bed hut costs twelve to 15 marks per night and person for four people. If you prefer huts, you can leave space-consuming camping utensils at home except for sleeping bags and towels. A list of huts can be obtained from NORTRA (see below). Information Norwegian Tourist Office NORTRAPostfach 760820, 22058 Hamburg, Telephone 0180/5001548. Literature: The Marco Polo Norway Travel Guide is small but nice for 14.80 Marks. If you want to know more, the best thing to do is to refer to the work of the same name by Apa Guide for 44 marks. Very accurate maps come from Kummerly & Frey in 1: 350,000. Baedeker even provides a very precise road map in his Norway volume for 39.80 marks. The volume “Scandinavia” of Edition Unterwegs contains many tips and route suggestions especially for bikers. Available in bookshops or in the MOTORRAD shop, phone 0711/182-xxxx for 29.80 marks. Distance covered: Around 2000 kilometers Time required: at least 14 days
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