Tolga to Langfjorden

The 2024 route opens with a long offroad stretch that extends almost to the first checkpoint at Oppdal. This part was great to ride for the most part but also included the first river crossing – perfect spot for a long photo-op by the media team – and the first hike-a-bike section. Which, to set a general theme of Bright Midnight route design, proved both incredibly scenic and incredibly challenging at the same time. During the extensive hike one was never more than an unlucky step away from the bog, sometimes right inside it.

The Oppdal gas station at the end of that part turned into one gathering ground of cyclists who were warming up from the rain that had unloaded itself onto the race. Some decided to call it a day right there but it felt too early to me so I continued onto the next hight plateau for a nightly hike-a-bike where I first encountered Ali, an experience ultra racer whom I should meet over and over again for the next days. The hike-a-bike up there was much tougher than the first one with many carry sections. The few guys that entered the race on MTBs were zipping past me. This was their ground. For me it was an early opportunity to familiarize myself with the new bike and its Pinion drivetrain. It sure is liberating not having to worry about a derailleur or the chain. And being able to shift while standing.

The second hike-a-bike set me back more than I thought so I arrived at Sunndalsora too late for a resupply. It would be fatal to stop without eating proper food first so I had no real alternative to continuing. The route led up to another plateau but to my relief this time it did not include a hike-a-bike. Sleep wasn't an option up there anyways due to the gazillions of bugs that emerged from hiding after the rain subsided. Thus after the spectacular downhill to Eikesdalen – which features a loop inside an unlit tunnel – I arrived in Myklebostad in time for the local shop to open.

Now on the Langfjorden road I was looking out for an opportunity to rest but all the options were either insect ridden or too exposed to the rain that kept returning. In the end I picked the rain over the bugs and crashed in my bivy bag at a resting place on the roadside.

Langfjorden to Øvre Årdal

Three hours of hovering on the verge of sleeping in the rain and wind later I gave up and went on my way again. A group of about ten riders overtook me while I observed them from inside my bivy.

After Andalsnes the route hit the mountains again, If the Bright Midnight has a signature climb it would be Trollstigen which unfortunately was closed to traffic this year because some of the switchbacks are crumbling away. Justinas re-routed us through nearby Trollvegen instead. This one has much heavier traffic but also less campervans than Trollstigen. It's also quite boring to climb, missing the iconic switchbacks. Due to a confusion of GPX files I had to backtrack about ten kilometers near Bjorli before I hit the egregiously beautiful gravel section through the forests.

The replacement for the Geiranger climib appeared to be a gravel toll road up to a high plateau at 1300+ meters which I hit at night in the freezing cold. On the descent I wore five layers of clothing including a down jacket and still my fingers were numb when I reached Vågåmo. There I had one and a half hour of good sleep outside before the gas station opened and where I had breakfast together with two fast Lithuanian guys. They dropped me soon after before we reached Lom.

With Dalsnibba out the route, Justinas added the dreaded Juvasshytta climb but cancelled it on the second day, apparently after a talk with race leader Alex McCormack. Who had already climbed a third of it by that point. Apparently not everybody got the memo about Juvasshytta being axed. At the bottom of the climb I was filled in by two dotwatchers in their sixties that a dude from Norway went up the mountain regardless. An obvious mistake, so I texted him and some time later he caught up to me – apparently he had been riding in the big front cog for most of the race after losing his front derailleur in the first three hours. A miracel – or sign of superhuman hardiness – that his hamstrings didn't explode on Juvasshytta!

After the removal of Juvasshytta, Sognefjellet was now the highest point of the race. In itself not fun to climb du to the long lead-in, crushing winds and annoying traffic. Two years ago I wasn't a fan. This time however, Justinas made it more palatable: he added a gravel detour that after climbig up to a water reservoir passed by a stunning waterfall.

Phillip, the guy on Juvasshytta with the broken derailleur, caught up to me on the Sognefjellet switchbacks. On the highest point, the Fantesteinen, I also met Lloyd from Ireland for the first time, another future travel companion. After Sognefjellet it was still afternoon and rather sunny so it seemed sensible to continue on to Øvre Årdal which I reached two steep climbs later for most of which I had Ali in sight.

In Øvre Årdal the only restaurant was beleagured by cyclists who worked themselves through stacks of large pizzas. Our gang of Ali, Christian, Lloyd, Philipp and Harry decided to spend the night at the football stadium which has a roof for shelter. Harry had to scratch the next day after suffering from severe knee pain ever since a mishap on the first hike-a-bike.

Øvre Årdal to Sel

During the night many more cyclists sought shelter at the stadium but for me it was a rather unruly place to sleep which had less to do with the crowd and more with the insects and the warm fjord weather of Øvre Årdal. At some point I was sweating so much that had to open my sleeping bag which had the unfortunate side effect of exposing me to the bugs from all sides.

Ali too seemed to have a restless night and he broke camp around 1 a. m. I followed half an hour later. Enclosed from three sides by high mountains and another by a lake, Øvre Årdal is strange site for a settlement. According to Justinas they don't even get sunlight until late in the year. In any case it was quite dark and rainy when I rolled out of Øvre Årdal at around 1:50 a. m. Gradually, while I was slowly climbing up to 1000 m, the rain subsided and dawn came. Spectacular to watch in its own way, my slow pedal strokes creating a sort of bullet time effect.

The ascent culminated in Tunnelvegen, an old service road, with its dramatic canyon as the backdrop. Still close to the fjord it was a chilly and windy hour I spent up there in the company of grouse. At the next supply point, a cabin in the middle of nowhere on the shores of lake Tyin, I finally had the opportunity to take a shower. The first since the start of the race, quite an exhilarating experience. I also met Mindaugas from Lithuania in the cabin who had spent the night there, and Hristos, a guy from Salzburg. Outside Lloyd caught back up to me but left after his hope of a cup of coffee was disappointed at the still early hour.

From there the road dropped back down again and followed a number of scenic lakes that reminded me of Interlaken. To leave the lake area we had to conquer the Stellefjellet, a climb that consists of one long, straight gravel road leading up the slope with a madness inducing 11 % gradient. Mindaugas up the road opted to push his bike but nevertheless he could easily match my riding speed. (A 600 % gear range makes for a decent granny gear.) When I met him on the road he was surrounded by a herd of goats. It must have been fifty or more animals and took me quite a while to ride past. When I finally broke free of the goat assembly, suddenly a car showed up behind them and kept driving them in my direction. It was comical, the stubborn goats kept following me up the climb and made noises like a bunch of giggling little girls while I was wrestling with the gradient in slo-mo. This went on a while as the goats didn't seem to take the hint that the car was just passing through. Ultimately it was traffic in the opposite direction that made the goats disperse in confusion and finally the giggling stopped.

Back in Jotunheimen national park I caught up with Mindaugas and Hristos at the supermarket in Beitostolen but in addition to food my body was insisting that I rest. Lloyd pointed me to the cafe above where apparently he had just slept the past half hour. I got myself a killer shrimp burger at the buffet and topped it off with a refreshing power nap.

This unfortunately wasn't enough for what the route had in store for me: a long, mainly straight, undulating road on the vast nothingness of a high plateau that seemed to never end. On top of the climbing a ghastly, cold headwind was sucking the warmth and life out of my blood, making it an even bigger challenge mentally than physically. After this draining experience I found no joy in the mostly downhill ride back to Vågåmo. There was a short offroad climb before the town which Justinas had added to the route last minute which served as a welcome distraction from the boredom, the cold and the rain.

I spent two hours at the gas station in Vågåmo eating my way through the most expensive burger I ever had while I watched rider after rider descent down into town from that aforementioned climb. Most of them stopped at the gas station for supplies, a few like Benoît stayed for a meal. It was late evening already by that time so Benoît decided to try and find a place to sleept at the local campsite. The calories in my burger seemed to have put back some life into my battered legs so I felt strong enough to not waste any ore time in overcrowded Vågåmo and tackle the next climb instead.

Sel to Tolga

My sleeping spot was first class: a porch of a shed at the side of a football field -- dry, shielded from the wind, and above all quiet. For the first time since the start of the race I slept well. Three hours later I was back on the road and on my way to Hovringen, a village at the top of a waterfall at about 900 m of altitude. There's not really anything noteweorthy up there apart from a garden with a collection of moderately funny wooden sculptures. Meh. Located immediately before the final big climb it seemed like pure chicanery having to climb that thing.

With Grimsdalen the mood changed from kinda lame and uninspiring to captivating and overwhelming. To get there we had to first overcome a climb to 1300+ meters, the last of the race, at a serious gradient. Made me discover that pushing the bike uphill while hiking barefoot is actually quite relaxing. Surprisingly Lloyd who was trailing me all morning only caught me on the descent into the stunning tundra canyon of Grimsdalen. Scenery-wise Justinas gave us a finale like straigt out of a Sergio Leone movie!

There was no opportunity to resupply until Alvdalen so I finally downed the last gel out of my initial 1.5 kg supply. The wide open canoyonscape transitioned into tundra forest dyed in psychedelic colors by lichen and moss. The route became more difficult as well and bordered on single track at times. A sand section appeared out of nowhere on a descent and almost caused me to dive into a ravine head first; to my surprise I managed to recover.

In Alvdal I was joined by Phillip again at the supermarket. Benoît preferred the gas station and I'm sure Lloyd found his coffee somewhere. We were close to Tolga now, less than 80 km on the route, and the final hills were awaiting us. These hills were no joke. Justinas hit us with everything he got: singletrails, eroded forest tracks, mud and puddles, rocky descents, and a few hike-a-bike sections.

Lloyd and Benoît had sailed away somewhere near Tynset but Phillip experienced some last minute trouble: apparently his tracker was dead on account of a bad fast charging cable. He brought it back to life with the help of my trusty oldschool USB cable and we stayed together for the remainder of the race. His streak of bad luck continued and he had to borrow my air pump a few minutes later on the final gravel sector, Gammeldalen. Then in a surprise move we were caught by a flying Hristos who I assumed had finished already way ahead of us when in fact he stayed a little longer than everyone else at Vågåmo on account of a nasty blister. Apparently he even contemplated giving up.

Phillip and I arrived at the finish together where we were greeted by Justinas and a bunch of recent finishers. Medals were handed out, as were beers. We exchanged fistbumps, handshakes and hugs with whoever wasn't wiped out and sleeping already. Four days, nine hours and seven minutes later, Bright Midnight 2024 was over.

Takeaways

1100 more kilometers done in Norway including some night riding, and I have yet to see an elk. Justinas promised during his football stadium speech we'd see them but they remain just as elusive as trolls.

Above all riding the Bright Midnight was an incredibly humbling experience. I had no idea in what ways the human body could hurt when put through such an ordeal. I consider my "sleeping strategy" a failure, it's the single biggest work item that I need to sort out till the next ultra racde. The gearbox however was the right thing to bring as it allowed me to focus on other things than the fragile conventional drivetrain. No mechanical at all in 1100 km seems too good to be true. It comes at the price of 1.5 kg added weight but in these conditions I believe it was the right tradeoff.

Right now folks are still out there riding the Bright Midnight while I watch the seagulls over Skjerstadsfjorden out a train window. Looking back I think Justinas found a sweet spot between raw physical challenge and showcasing Norway's natural beauty. Despite the forced late minute changes the 2024 route excels at the balance between hard sections and rewarding moments like Tunnelvegen, Grimsdalen or that lake with a waterfall on the Sognefjellet detour. A true gem of a bike race that I hope will see many future editions.

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