The forest by Maridalsvannet 7 May 2005
A walk around Linnerudkollen and Maridalsvannet (Lillomarka)
One of the rare old-fasioned trams, by Storo (if that helps ;).
Just behind a row of houses (at Akebakkeskogen), we entered the forest.
Instead of following the path to Grefsenkollen (who needs paths anyway?), we crossed a small pond.
A well camouflaged newt in the pond.
The forest beside the pond. This was where the blueberry plants started, and they remained with us for the rest of the walk.
Reflections on the pond - right, that's it, enough pond pictures.
The path became a bit more substantial.
A ski slope at Grefsenkleiva - in case you couldn't guess that for yourself.
In many parts of the forest, the ground was covered in these white flowers.
The path became a bit more interesting but then rejoined the dog-and-baby walkers' path, heading towards Solemskogen.
We caught sight of a hidden gully and decided to climb it.
Looking back, we were still within sight of the city - impressed with just how much countryside there is within short walking distance.
The gully floor was made up of a steep ramp of boulders, just the way I like it.
"The Antelope".
The bottom of the gulley was covered in these blue flowers.
The other side of the gulley was sheltered by a cliff, and was covered in mosses.
Some of them produced clouds of spores when touched.
Looking up the cliff side of the gully.
"Eew! Why did he have to show that? Especially after looking at someone's rear end in the last picture..." No really, they are ferns, just about ready to unfurl their leaves.
A large fungus growing on the side of a log.
The trees towering high above the gully.
Suddenly the gully ended at a dam and lake; Trollvann. Despite the daily temperature averaging 12° C for nearly a month, some snow had actually survived.
The first part of Trollvann.
The second part of Trollvann, complete with ski slope and centre.
We avoided the main path and followed another small gulley, before climbing up onto the top of a small outcrop.
We sat down and enjoyed lunch, surrounded by the beautifully coloured forest on Lachmannsfjell.
Continuing along the path, the moss on the forest floor gave an eery green glow to the forest. We passed another lake (Langevann) without even noticing until we climbed up the far side of it.
This may look like an upturned tree, but it is in fact a large ant-hill. So large, in fact, that a tree branch grew through it, and blueberry bushes grew up the back of it.
The darker patches turned out to be thousands of scurrying ants.
And with ants crawling up our trouser legs (shudder), I took a few close-up pictures. Just for you. Because I know you like it.
An all weather ski jump centre at Linderudkollen, nestled in amongst the trees. ("L" is for "Loser!", blue is for "This would be a good place to land", red is for "It's a bit late to tell you that now, but this is going to hurt :P")
After climbing over another ridge, Linderudseteren Høgdene, we lost the way markers painted on the trees. Who cares, we were having fun, who needs to follow a route?
Every now and then, some scoured rock surface serves to remind that this hill was once the bed of an immense glacier.
After a few junctions, we regained our route not far from Solemskogen, and immediately ignored it and invented our own route through the forest, eventually descending into a small, moss-covered stream valley.
After rejoining a path heading in the wrong direction, we decided to ignore it, and picked up the stream again at Grytebekken. It very quickly became a deep gully with tall cliffs on both sides.
We stayed with the stream as the gully descended.
While paying too much attention to what Claudio was saying, I forgot the cavers' rule; think where you put your feet, and prepare to put them somewhere else when they slip off the first hold. My shin took the impact as I slid off a rock. Ouch. Still, at least I kept the camera safe.
The gully widened out, and entered a section with some bizzare trees. Several of them were bending significantly in odd directions.
This was far too significant to be animals, and far too gentle to be humans.
The conclusion we came to was that it must be flooding, but with such a small stream, and wide gully, there would have to be a huge flood. There was no sign of large fallen trees, or flood debris, and this must have occurred over many years.
The damage was far too great to be from the weight of accumulated snow. An avalance maybe? But the cliffs were behind us now, so where would the avalanche have come from?
Surprisingly, the trees were still alive and growing, despite the damage to them. Anyway, that is enough of our tree cemetery.
Finally, reaching normal paths again, we took the first opportunity to descend to the edge of Maridalsvannet, ready to follow it for another few kilometres to its far end. When we reached it, we realised we were already at its far end (close to Sander), and we had covered a lot more distance than we had thought.
Sitting over the lake was a large dark cloud, threatening some very bad weather. Fortunately, the wind was blowing this away from where we were heading.
Aiming back towards the city end of the lake, we passed some large concrete saucers (flying saucers? cages for disobedient children?), which we concluded were probably air vents for underground tunnels.
Finally back at Kjelsås, we took a panorama of the lake.
Compare it to this picture we had taken just 6 weeks earlier.
After following the river downstream, we went home, where I could assess the damage to my shin.
One of the rare old-fasioned trams, by Storo (if that helps ;).
Just behind a row of houses (at Akebakkeskogen), we entered the forest.
Instead of following the path to Grefsenkollen (who needs paths anyway?), we crossed a small pond.
A well camouflaged newt in the pond.
The forest beside the pond. This was where the blueberry plants started, and they remained with us for the rest of the walk.
Reflections on the pond - right, that's it, enough pond pictures.
The path became a bit more substantial.
A ski slope at Grefsenkleiva - in case you couldn't guess that for yourself.
In many parts of the forest, the ground was covered in these white flowers.
The path became a bit more interesting but then rejoined the dog-and-baby walkers' path, heading towards Solemskogen.
We caught sight of a hidden gully and decided to climb it.
Looking back, we were still within sight of the city - impressed with just how much countryside there is within short walking distance.
The gully floor was made up of a steep ramp of boulders, just the way I like it.
"The Antelope".
The bottom of the gulley was covered in these blue flowers.
The other side of the gulley was sheltered by a cliff, and was covered in mosses.
Some of them produced clouds of spores when touched.
Looking up the cliff side of the gully.
"Eew! Why did he have to show that? Especially after looking at someone's rear end in the last picture..." No really, they are ferns, just about ready to unfurl their leaves.
A large fungus growing on the side of a log.
The trees towering high above the gully.
Suddenly the gully ended at a dam and lake; Trollvann. Despite the daily temperature averaging 12° C for nearly a month, some snow had actually survived.
The first part of Trollvann.
The second part of Trollvann, complete with ski slope and centre.
We avoided the main path and followed another small gulley, before climbing up onto the top of a small outcrop.
We sat down and enjoyed lunch, surrounded by the beautifully coloured forest on Lachmannsfjell.
Continuing along the path, the moss on the forest floor gave an eery green glow to the forest. We passed another lake (Langevann) without even noticing until we climbed up the far side of it.
This may look like an upturned tree, but it is in fact a large ant-hill. So large, in fact, that a tree branch grew through it, and blueberry bushes grew up the back of it.
The darker patches turned out to be thousands of scurrying ants.
And with ants crawling up our trouser legs (shudder), I took a few close-up pictures. Just for you. Because I know you like it.
An all weather ski jump centre at Linderudkollen, nestled in amongst the trees. ("L" is for "Loser!", blue is for "This would be a good place to land", red is for "It's a bit late to tell you that now, but this is going to hurt :P")
After climbing over another ridge, Linderudseteren Høgdene, we lost the way markers painted on the trees. Who cares, we were having fun, who needs to follow a route?
Every now and then, some scoured rock surface serves to remind that this hill was once the bed of an immense glacier.
After a few junctions, we regained our route not far from Solemskogen, and immediately ignored it and invented our own route through the forest, eventually descending into a small, moss-covered stream valley.
After rejoining a path heading in the wrong direction, we decided to ignore it, and picked up the stream again at Grytebekken. It very quickly became a deep gully with tall cliffs on both sides.
We stayed with the stream as the gully descended.
While paying too much attention to what Claudio was saying, I forgot the cavers' rule; think where you put your feet, and prepare to put them somewhere else when they slip off the first hold. My shin took the impact as I slid off a rock. Ouch. Still, at least I kept the camera safe.
The gully widened out, and entered a section with some bizzare trees. Several of them were bending significantly in odd directions.
This was far too significant to be animals, and far too gentle to be humans.
The conclusion we came to was that it must be flooding, but with such a small stream, and wide gully, there would have to be a huge flood. There was no sign of large fallen trees, or flood debris, and this must have occurred over many years.
The damage was far too great to be from the weight of accumulated snow. An avalance maybe? But the cliffs were behind us now, so where would the avalanche have come from?
Surprisingly, the trees were still alive and growing, despite the damage to them. Anyway, that is enough of our tree cemetery.
Finally, reaching normal paths again, we took the first opportunity to descend to the edge of Maridalsvannet, ready to follow it for another few kilometres to its far end. When we reached it, we realised we were already at its far end (close to Sander), and we had covered a lot more distance than we had thought.
Sitting over the lake was a large dark cloud, threatening some very bad weather. Fortunately, the wind was blowing this away from where we were heading.
Aiming back towards the city end of the lake, we passed some large concrete saucers (flying saucers? cages for disobedient children?), which we concluded were probably air vents for underground tunnels.
Finally back at Kjelsås, we took a panorama of the lake.
Compare it to this picture we had taken just 6 weeks earlier.
After following the river downstream, we went home, where I could assess the damage to my shin.