Storehogen

On account of the forceful return to temperate conditions, I have the privilege of writing tonight’s entry from the lawn of our apartment. Viewing the stars in Sogndal is a gift for me; the city lights to which I am accustomed often limit much of the sky’s impact. I used to lay myself in my driveway for long periods of time when I was little, gazing skyward as dusk turned to matte black, delighting in the number of constellations I could identity floating above me as they traversed their celestial highway. It sounds strange now to recollect it, but I remember thinking about my infinitesimal place in an impossibly expansive universe, even at a young age. I never have time to do that anymore. Tonight, as I sit here reconnecting with many of those same stars that I watched from across the world decades ago, I am reminded how deeply I have missed it.

My pensive mood has perhaps been inspired by our past two days in Norway, which have assertively illustrated our human smallness in comparison to our astonishing planet. As if yesterday’s tour de force of breathtaking nature were not enough, today brought us the opportunity to scale yet another of the country’s seemingly limitless supply of fjordside mountains. Storehogen’s summit is particularly special to my family because it overlooks the city of Sogndal itself. Most visitors to the mountain don’t have the option to take a vehicle to the top: while there is a gravel road that leads to it, it is blocked by several checkpoints that only a select few can pass. But it helps to be a Foss in Sogndal. Our family member, Knut, whom I had the pleasure of meeting for the first time today, knows a man named Jonas Engeseter, who tends the many sheep who roam the flatland atop Storehogen and therefore holds one of the keys to the road.

At first arrival to the peak of Storehogen, you are met with the domineering sight of the massive communications tower located there. You can see the tower from almost any vantage point in Sogndal below, but from the ground, the structure is barely a blip, so to behold its actual size up close is an immediate reality check. A full bird’s-eye view of Sogndal requires a moderate hike over to a nearby crest on the mountain, so my dad and I navigated the rocky slope with Knut to reach the lookout point. We may have finally reached a destination for which even the panorama feature on my camera was no match; the view from here was a full, 360-degree marvel, the jewel of Sogndal the ultimate treasure.

Knut himself was a highlight of the experience. I was glad to get to know him a little better as we hiked the mountain and also over coffee at his home once we’d returned. Knut is a veteran truck driver and machine operator, responsible for countless transports of equipment and materials across continental Europe. In the United States, we have a stereotype of truckers as hypermasculine, gruff types who likely aren’t anxious for polite conversation over coffee; Knut shattered this perception (as, to be fair, many truckers do). It was immediately clear why so many in Sogndal have spoken so highly of him. His friendly and chipper demeanor immediately sets you at ease, and I’d happily explore more of Norway with him–if he wasn’t so busy with work! I am very grateful to him and Jonas for their charity today, as this experience at Storehogen wouldn’t have been possible without them.

After this feast for the eyes, it was time for a feast of a different variety. To our good fortune, we had an invitation to Arnor and Kari’s house for a belated celebration of Arnor’s birthday. Joining us were Mona; her husband, Vidar; their daughter, Veronica; her boyfriend, Joakim; and Silje Marie. Family pets Marco and Nico completed the lively lineup. The grand affair featured a spread for the ages: dinner itself consisted of about fifteen distinct components, and dessert was chocolate layer cake and kvæfjordkake, a cake also known by its superlative nickname, “the world’s best cake.” Layers of sponge and whipped cream are topped with crunchy and sweet meringue, and, while the cake is usually also sprinkled with almonds, Kari generously forwent the addition on account of my allergy.

Coffee and conversation were accompanied by a slideshow of photographs from Veronica’s various outdoor excursions around the country. She works at Intersport–more or less Norway’s equivalent of REI–and is an enthusiastic and experienced camper, wilderness explorer, and skier. As best I can tell, her list of titles ought to also include budding professional nature photographer. She claims to be an amateur, but her pictures were like a feature plucked from National Geographic, with expertly framed, storytelling shots. I plan to remember this day in case she achieves the considerable renown that could rightly be hers.

While I have mostly shoved the thought to the back of my mind, it is becoming increasingly difficult to escape the reality that we will soon depart Sogndal, bidding adieu to the many incredible people who have breathed so much joy into this experience. We will take every opportunity to savor these last days and pay what gratitude we can, though I could never fully express the extent to which this has been a life changing visit. All I can say is that I hope it will not be my last.