So I’ve conquered the long walk and the bike ride, yeah? Yeah. This weekend it was time for me to get a taste of a Norwegian hike. It wasn’t an ordinary one with various mid-range peaks and valleys and level ground in between. No that would have been too easy.

In Norway, this too was a holiday weekend. But not of the same sort as our Memorial Day. This government-sanctioned holiday was to remember when the Holy Spirit came. To do what, I’m not exactly sure. Initially, plans to acknowledge the extra day off included a weekend in Oslo, the country’s capital city. But as those plans were thwarted new ones emerged. Namely, a 2-1/2 hour trek up to Preikestolen, otherwise known as Pulpit Rock, a must do while here.



I was told there was a trail leading up to the top, which was a glorious 604 meters, or 1,800 feet, above ground. This was an overstatement. What I found was not a trail in the sense of a well marked earthen path, helping one to avoid the pitfalls of slippery rocks and the like. But what they so commonly called a trail here is, well, a mountain of slippery rocks in which one can put their weight on hoping, no praying, that the rock won’t slip out from under. In precious few spots, the rocks turned to dirt paths but those only last a few meters each.

At every twist and turn, my brain conjured images of me slipping and falling on my face coming up a mess of broken teeth, or worse, broken bones. At one point, I was calculating the probability that I would have to be either carried down, or better yet, airlifted by a helicopter due to complete immobility.

And by the way, adorned with rack sack and windbreaker I did look very much the part. How comforting.




About 150 minutes later, we reached the peak. And it took what little breath I had left, away. How quickly did I forget about the treacherous climb up and I wouldn’t let myself think about the equivalent hike down for fear of never leaving the top.

As I’ve mentioned, Preikestolen, is a mere 1,800 feet above ground (For example, Albuquerque’s Sandia Peak) is more than 10,000 feet but I’ve never hiked it. I’ve always settled for a ride on the Tram.) and the perch is unadorned by anything man-made. Another way to say would be: there are no barricades. One can look, sit or jump (as a few do each year after having decided to end their lives) over the edge. I felt, after making the even more treacherous climb to do the two former.




The view is of the famous Fjords and it’s like being thrust into a scene of “Lord of the Rings” even though that was filmed in New Zealand.

The hike down was quite uneventful, I’m extremely glad to report. This city girl survived the Pulpit Rock and all its pitfalls. The next day we did a tour by car, since everyone was sore from the previous day’s excursions, of the same area from a different direction. Here, I witnessed Christmas in May, as snow in great amounts still existed with the promise of not going anywhere any time soon.

The following day, I viewed Preikestolen from the bottom up and took immense pride in being able to say, “I was there.” My travel companions said I did well and the difficulty of this hike will make all others child’s play. Others? What others?