The Easy Option

After a few days and nights of shift work the easy option would have been to stay another ‘night’ on Sommarøy to just chill and recharge, that’s what my body was telling me, but my mind had other ideas.

It was as if the dramatic island of Senja just didn’t want us here! 

The 45 minute calm ferry crossing from Sommarøy had us arriving at Botnhamn at 9.30am. 

Senja v Motorcyclists

It was only a ten mile ride from the ferry port to the tiny island of Husøy, but unbeknown to me at that time, those ten miles would be just a sample of what was to lie ahead. Long single track, dimly lit tunnels which were very cold, wet, poorly surfaced and slippery. I am getting a disliking for tunnels along minor roads! Out in the sunshine it’s in the high twenties, I’m riding like it’s summer, oh yes of course, it is! But the tunnels are like the depths of winter, and it feels like the temperature at times drops about fifteen degrees! Fifty percent of the roads I’ve ridden on the island are either in a bad state of repair or are in the process of being repaired with little, if any, regard for motorcycles other than off road bikes. So you can see, the riding was a little ‘challenging’ to say the least. I reminded myself that I had no control of these outside elements, all I could do was try to keep control of Reg, and my own attitude. I looked upon it as the island versus Reg, Sven and me as I battled to keep us from sliding along an excuse for a road surface. Although there were no moments to cause atrial fibrillation, there were plenty that caused me to swear like a trooper, and there were times I thought there was an inevitability about falling off, I almost expected it.

Things didn’t improve after the very brief Husøy visit, I needed to return along the same road and then head for the the reason for coming here, an opportunity to view the amazing mountain of Segla. The 17 mile ride was in the same vane, as the ‘trailhead’ was in the tiny village of Fjordgard, only accessible via…..you guessed it, long dark slippery tunnels! Arriving in the village there is a cafe/restaurant/bar/accommodation, only small but run by a very pleasant lady. I was going to have a break from my arduous morning’s ride and knew that I would have to make sure that I was well prepared for the short, but tough (for me), one hour climb up the neighbouring fell of Hesten. Suitably refreshed in the cafe the lady said that I could leave the bike there. I’d brought all my walking gear away with me as this trek was one of my ‘must do’s’ if the weather was suitable, it was, if a little on the hot side. I had shorts under my biking jeans and the thinnest of sports tops under my bike jacket so I was well prepared. After swapping my bike boots for walking boots I set off on the hot climb, frequently applying insect repellent to keep the flies, not mozzies, at bay. Senja is a stunning sight even though these photos, as usual, probably don’t do it justice.

As I descended, the the sun disappeared and the wind started to get up. By the time I was approaching the cafe there was signs of rain but I was hopeful it wouldn’t get a grip, I was wrong. Another quick refreshment break in the cafe before a sweaty me kitted up again for what should have been a fifteen mile ride to my accommodation. 

The island is much bigger than I imagined, and due to the road conditions the time it takes to cover those miles is much longer than you would hope. After ‘tunnelling’ my way out of the Fjordgard valley I made a right towards my destination only to find that after a few miles the road was closed, no diversion, just closed. So it was a 55 mile journey to get somewhere only fifteen miles away, no tunnels this time, but one of the worst roads I have ever ridden along. I still hadn’t dropped the bike, so Senja decided to call for reinforcements and it duly pissed it down on me! It was as if it was saying “Oh, you think you’re clever staying upright, well have a bit of this”! Sven had to be confined to a pannier for his own safe keeping and I struggled on at the side of the road putting warmer clothes and my waterproof trousers on. I must have looked a sorry sight as I hopped around on one leg trying to balance without putting a sock down on the wet road surface. A young couple stopped in their hippy style van to check that I was ok and I thanked, but assured them all was fine. Now I have all the right gear on for the conditions and the heated grips are on for good measure, it was wet and windy and Reg, who started the day clean, was filthy, as was everything!

As we descended towards the village where my Airbnb was it was as if Senja said “OK smart arse, I give in, you win”. The rain eased and a view started to open up, by evening time it was sunny again.

Senja, I hold no grudge.