Nordmarka walk 20 August 2005
A last chance to see the markas before we return home to Wales.
Unfortunately, Moose failed to turn up for this walk. Maybe it has something to do with him working until 04:00 that morning... In any case, Claudio and I waited until the last possible minute, arriving at the station just before the train left.
We began the trip with a train journey to the almost-non-existent Movann Station. The train felt like it was being used by every cyclist in Oslo. It has no car for the bikes, so they just litter each carriage, forcing you to climb over them to reach a seat. At least it provides some entertainment.
The station is named after the town that is named after the lake that is named after the town. The lake comes complete with its own diving platforms.
We ignored the town, and started along the track in the opposite direction, before heading into the forests of Nordmarka.
Nothing to see here folks. Move along, move along.
The berries started immediately. Raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, blueberries, red currents, more blueberries, and several "What's that one? I dunno, but it's red - I'm not going to try it", and we feasted for the rest of the walk.
For a brief while, the trees cleared, and we could see a small cliff. And we ate raspberries.
A luminous green leaf insect. These glowing butterflies fluttered around us for most of the open sections of the walk.
Back on dirt track, and another rare chance to see through the trees, even if all you can see is more trees ;)
We took the first possible opportunity to leave the track. We followed the red trails. These are supposed to be for winter use, and as a result, the paths are wider and more gentle (to allow for skis), but they may also pass over lakes, rivers and marshes, that would be frozen in winter.
The marshes here are inhabited by butterflies, in stark contrast with the mosquitoes of northern Norway.
The marshes are also home to moose. The path floors were literally littered with hoofprints of adult and young moose and reindeer (we think), as well as the associated droppings. Some of the tracks were extremely recent, and for the next few hours, we were convinced that a moose was taunting us, taking the same route, just slightly in front, enough for us not to see. I have still not seen a wild (or captive) moose. This is simply not fair. There is only one answer; I shall have to return.
We settled for looking at butterflies instead. There were enough of them.
Our path skirted yet another small lake, where a goose took great care to land, then saw us, panicked, and took off again.
In the middle of another marsh, the map lied. Oh yes, it lied. And we found it out.
At the top of a small ramp, we got a rare opportunity to look back over the route we had taken. This is Lørenskoghøgda (483 metres).
Starting up Langedalskollen, and yet another marsh. But we both liked this marsh, with the yellow topped grass, and purple mosses. These marshes are so much more sturdy than the ones in the north. A simple guide to the moss colours; brown is deep and wet, black is safe (as long as it is moss, and not deep mud), green is usually good, purple and red are safe, yellow is risky.
Another chance to see, this time to the east over Langdal to the scar of Storbråtahaugen and Varingskollen (540 metres). Varingskollen actually has a restaurant on the top.
The ground here was mostly purple heather. It looks nice, but it does slow you down. At least the summit was now in sight.
In the opposite direction, we could see across the south side of Nordmarka. On the left edge of the picture is Mellomkollen, which we would be climbing later.
At the summit of Langedalskollen (i486 metres), we were greeted with a beautiful view over Nordmarka. This is why I am here. Nordmarka is the biggest of the markas, and feels the most wild (if there can be such a thing this close to the city). Although the trees can be frustrating at times, when you get a chance to see over them like this, they look so inviting. It is difficult to leave Norway. The summit in the middle of the picture is Glotjernskollen, our next target.
As far as we could see into the distance, Nordmarka continued, tree-covered peak after tree-covered peak.
Several mad lichens (I think) sprouted from the ground, so we sat beside them and ate lunch.
Starting down into the valley, we saw this tree, completely out of place, with its red berries almost glowing against the surrounding birch and spruce.
Normally, deforested areas are depressing. Here, they are a relief, a chance to actually see. We climbed over another little ridge, following the moose tracks, before dropping suddenly onto a dirt track. Almost immediately, we left it again, and started up the edge of Glotjernskollen.
Glotjernskollen has no real path that we could find, so we resorted to following a compass bearing, climbing over rocky outcrops, and wading through energy-sapping heather. At one point, we were literally navigating by spiders.
A little valley loomed out of the marshland, gathering the marsh runoff. In my mind, I could almost smell the cave, but sadly there was just another marsh.
Hey, don't ask me, we just liked it. OK?
We smashed our previous marka height record of 502 metres, and reached the summit of Glotjernskollen at 527 metres. For a brief moment, the trees cleared, and we got a view to the east over Nittedal and Hakadalselva.
The view over Langedal. On the left is Eriksknatten (517 metres), in the middle is a swarm of flies (not mosquitoes, but still annoying), and hidden between the ridges on the right is Ørfiske.
Looking north from Glotjernskollen. We had hoped to get a good view from here, across many of the big Nordmarka lakes, and many of its mountains, but sadly this was all we got. Another view of Eriksknatten, and if you can make it out through the trees, a glimpse of Holmetjern - not exactly the biggest lake in the area.
We retraced our steps, amazed by the sheer numbers of moose tracks, some of which we were sure had not been there on our way up. The dirt track then led us south towards Tømte, and offered us such amusements as this confused looking sign.
A short forest path in the glaring sun, and the toadstools started.
Tømte. And by the way Google, that transliterates to Toemte (pronounced Termte), not Tomte - please sort out your algorithm. Anyway, this town had a house, a shed, and this impressive barn (the barn doors are on the other side). Ah, of course, a house, shed, and barn. That constitutes a town, remember? There was also another house down the road, but without a barn, it was not allowed to be part of the town.
The immensely hard climb up Mellomkollen. We stopped for a while here, collecting blueberries or whimberries or wimberries or whatever you want me to call them. Our hands and mouths were stained red and purple. A couple walked past in their underwear - as you do - damer.
Not satisfied with one record in a day, we smashed it once again with an impressive gain of 10 metres!
Some idiot had left a metal peg in the ground. And what was worse was that it was not on the actual summit. It was only at 536.9 metres. I tried moving it, but it wouldn't budge.
Oh well, if you stand on it, the top is almost at the right height.
A little further down is Utsikt Mellomkollen. The couple (same as earlier) had chosen to lie down on the viewpoint, so I stood by their heads, hung my rear end over their faces, and took this picture of the Skarselva valley. The yellow fields of Skarselva, then Maridalsvannet, Oslo, and Oslofjorden. The mountains on the other side of the valley are Lillomarka, where we had done a walk a few months earlier.
A closeup of Maridalsvannet, Oslo, and Oslofjorden.
The path then dropped very quickly beside increasingly tall cliffs. We could at last gain an appreciation for how much height we had gained during the day.
What do you mean; "there's an easier way"?
And so the toadstools continued.
And continued.
You will have to forgive the blurred picture but this guy moved so fast I was lucky enough to get my camera switched on in time. With each jump to a higher branch, it shouted a loud, comical "phung" sound. For those who don't realise why I bothered to take this picture; red squirrels are virtually extinct in the UK, having been almost wiped out by the more aggressive imported grey squirrels - I have never seen a red squirrel in my own country.
Again, the trees cleared, and we could see Maridalsvannet.
The valley deepened, and cliffs continued above us into the forest. This insane tree had grown clinging onto the edge of a boulder, wrapping iself over the top of it. It was only hanging onto the one edge, but somehow it had managed to survive the elements and had grown to well over 20 metres tall.
The cliffs were now invisible, but judging by the boulder slope, there had to be something big above the trees. The path gave way to a dirt track, which climbed over a ridge. Almost without warning, the track entered the edge of Movatn, and climbed back up to the station.
The evening light over Movannet looked so beautiful, and the camera was forced to take pictures.
Water lillies on Movannet.
A time for reflection. Movannet. For future reference, the trains go every two hours, so you might want to check the timetable, and base your walk around it...
What do you do with blueberries? Make blåbærsyltetøy of course, and put it on a pancake. A teaspoon of water to stop them burning, a teaspoon of sugar, and 200 grams of blueberries. Heat it in a saucepan (and mash it a little with a potato masher) until it is the right consistency. If you need instructions on how to eat it as well, please send a stamped, self-addressed envelope to "I need help, Oslo, Norge".
We began the trip with a train journey to the almost-non-existent Movann Station. The train felt like it was being used by every cyclist in Oslo. It has no car for the bikes, so they just litter each carriage, forcing you to climb over them to reach a seat. At least it provides some entertainment.
The station is named after the town that is named after the lake that is named after the town. The lake comes complete with its own diving platforms.
We ignored the town, and started along the track in the opposite direction, before heading into the forests of Nordmarka.
Nothing to see here folks. Move along, move along.
The berries started immediately. Raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, blueberries, red currents, more blueberries, and several "What's that one? I dunno, but it's red - I'm not going to try it", and we feasted for the rest of the walk.
For a brief while, the trees cleared, and we could see a small cliff. And we ate raspberries.
A luminous green leaf insect. These glowing butterflies fluttered around us for most of the open sections of the walk.
Back on dirt track, and another rare chance to see through the trees, even if all you can see is more trees ;)
We took the first possible opportunity to leave the track. We followed the red trails. These are supposed to be for winter use, and as a result, the paths are wider and more gentle (to allow for skis), but they may also pass over lakes, rivers and marshes, that would be frozen in winter.
The marshes here are inhabited by butterflies, in stark contrast with the mosquitoes of northern Norway.
The marshes are also home to moose. The path floors were literally littered with hoofprints of adult and young moose and reindeer (we think), as well as the associated droppings. Some of the tracks were extremely recent, and for the next few hours, we were convinced that a moose was taunting us, taking the same route, just slightly in front, enough for us not to see. I have still not seen a wild (or captive) moose. This is simply not fair. There is only one answer; I shall have to return.
We settled for looking at butterflies instead. There were enough of them.
Our path skirted yet another small lake, where a goose took great care to land, then saw us, panicked, and took off again.
In the middle of another marsh, the map lied. Oh yes, it lied. And we found it out.
At the top of a small ramp, we got a rare opportunity to look back over the route we had taken. This is Lørenskoghøgda (483 metres).
Starting up Langedalskollen, and yet another marsh. But we both liked this marsh, with the yellow topped grass, and purple mosses. These marshes are so much more sturdy than the ones in the north. A simple guide to the moss colours; brown is deep and wet, black is safe (as long as it is moss, and not deep mud), green is usually good, purple and red are safe, yellow is risky.
Another chance to see, this time to the east over Langdal to the scar of Storbråtahaugen and Varingskollen (540 metres). Varingskollen actually has a restaurant on the top.
The ground here was mostly purple heather. It looks nice, but it does slow you down. At least the summit was now in sight.
In the opposite direction, we could see across the south side of Nordmarka. On the left edge of the picture is Mellomkollen, which we would be climbing later.
At the summit of Langedalskollen (i486 metres), we were greeted with a beautiful view over Nordmarka. This is why I am here. Nordmarka is the biggest of the markas, and feels the most wild (if there can be such a thing this close to the city). Although the trees can be frustrating at times, when you get a chance to see over them like this, they look so inviting. It is difficult to leave Norway. The summit in the middle of the picture is Glotjernskollen, our next target.
As far as we could see into the distance, Nordmarka continued, tree-covered peak after tree-covered peak.
Several mad lichens (I think) sprouted from the ground, so we sat beside them and ate lunch.
Starting down into the valley, we saw this tree, completely out of place, with its red berries almost glowing against the surrounding birch and spruce.
Normally, deforested areas are depressing. Here, they are a relief, a chance to actually see. We climbed over another little ridge, following the moose tracks, before dropping suddenly onto a dirt track. Almost immediately, we left it again, and started up the edge of Glotjernskollen.
Glotjernskollen has no real path that we could find, so we resorted to following a compass bearing, climbing over rocky outcrops, and wading through energy-sapping heather. At one point, we were literally navigating by spiders.
A little valley loomed out of the marshland, gathering the marsh runoff. In my mind, I could almost smell the cave, but sadly there was just another marsh.
Hey, don't ask me, we just liked it. OK?
We smashed our previous marka height record of 502 metres, and reached the summit of Glotjernskollen at 527 metres. For a brief moment, the trees cleared, and we got a view to the east over Nittedal and Hakadalselva.
The view over Langedal. On the left is Eriksknatten (517 metres), in the middle is a swarm of flies (not mosquitoes, but still annoying), and hidden between the ridges on the right is Ørfiske.
Looking north from Glotjernskollen. We had hoped to get a good view from here, across many of the big Nordmarka lakes, and many of its mountains, but sadly this was all we got. Another view of Eriksknatten, and if you can make it out through the trees, a glimpse of Holmetjern - not exactly the biggest lake in the area.
We retraced our steps, amazed by the sheer numbers of moose tracks, some of which we were sure had not been there on our way up. The dirt track then led us south towards Tømte, and offered us such amusements as this confused looking sign.
A short forest path in the glaring sun, and the toadstools started.
Tømte. And by the way Google, that transliterates to Toemte (pronounced Termte), not Tomte - please sort out your algorithm. Anyway, this town had a house, a shed, and this impressive barn (the barn doors are on the other side). Ah, of course, a house, shed, and barn. That constitutes a town, remember? There was also another house down the road, but without a barn, it was not allowed to be part of the town.
The immensely hard climb up Mellomkollen. We stopped for a while here, collecting blueberries or whimberries or wimberries or whatever you want me to call them. Our hands and mouths were stained red and purple. A couple walked past in their underwear - as you do - damer.
Not satisfied with one record in a day, we smashed it once again with an impressive gain of 10 metres!
Some idiot had left a metal peg in the ground. And what was worse was that it was not on the actual summit. It was only at 536.9 metres. I tried moving it, but it wouldn't budge.
Oh well, if you stand on it, the top is almost at the right height.
A little further down is Utsikt Mellomkollen. The couple (same as earlier) had chosen to lie down on the viewpoint, so I stood by their heads, hung my rear end over their faces, and took this picture of the Skarselva valley. The yellow fields of Skarselva, then Maridalsvannet, Oslo, and Oslofjorden. The mountains on the other side of the valley are Lillomarka, where we had done a walk a few months earlier.
A closeup of Maridalsvannet, Oslo, and Oslofjorden.
The path then dropped very quickly beside increasingly tall cliffs. We could at last gain an appreciation for how much height we had gained during the day.
What do you mean; "there's an easier way"?
And so the toadstools continued.
And continued.
You will have to forgive the blurred picture but this guy moved so fast I was lucky enough to get my camera switched on in time. With each jump to a higher branch, it shouted a loud, comical "phung" sound. For those who don't realise why I bothered to take this picture; red squirrels are virtually extinct in the UK, having been almost wiped out by the more aggressive imported grey squirrels - I have never seen a red squirrel in my own country.
Again, the trees cleared, and we could see Maridalsvannet.
The valley deepened, and cliffs continued above us into the forest. This insane tree had grown clinging onto the edge of a boulder, wrapping iself over the top of it. It was only hanging onto the one edge, but somehow it had managed to survive the elements and had grown to well over 20 metres tall.
The cliffs were now invisible, but judging by the boulder slope, there had to be something big above the trees. The path gave way to a dirt track, which climbed over a ridge. Almost without warning, the track entered the edge of Movatn, and climbed back up to the station.
The evening light over Movannet looked so beautiful, and the camera was forced to take pictures.
Water lillies on Movannet.
A time for reflection. Movannet. For future reference, the trains go every two hours, so you might want to check the timetable, and base your walk around it...
What do you do with blueberries? Make blåbærsyltetøy of course, and put it on a pancake. A teaspoon of water to stop them burning, a teaspoon of sugar, and 200 grams of blueberries. Heat it in a saucepan (and mash it a little with a potato masher) until it is the right consistency. If you need instructions on how to eat it as well, please send a stamped, self-addressed envelope to "I need help, Oslo, Norge".