Lofoten Loafin' (Part 2): July 22nd - July 27th, 2023

The climbing episode!

Now just a few kilometers outside Henningsvær, we'd set up the tent near the Gandalf Wall crag at a free climber's camping area. Besides the unbeatable price and proximity to some of Lofoten's most well-trafficked routes (and the wild blueberries that were all just ripening), it's also a popular spot because of the unlimited free water! Some enterprising climbers "tapped" the water pipe into Henningsvær, so now gallons of fresh water just flow out onto the rocks. Either it's not that much in the grand scheme or this part of Norway just has that much water to spare.

Collecting a little free water at the campsite

We woke up a little late on Saturday morning, packed the bags, and headed off to join the groups of climbers we'd already seen meander by our campsite. We knew that the Gandalf Wall hosted some of the most popular climbs in Lofoten (the grades were on the easy side and supposedly the rock was good-quality), but we were about to get a lesson in what that really meant. I started up the Gandalf route with a pair from the UK ahead of us, but since they stopped the first pitch a little early I still had a nice belay stance. Things quickly got awkward, though, as a guide came bounding up to my right and rigged another anchor to bring up a Norwegian family of 3 (he said they'd mostly be on a different route but would still have to climb through part of Gandalf). I tried to tune that out while belaying up Susan, but what I couldn't ignore was the follower from the UK duo squeezing past my anchor to climb the second pitch. My relief at not getting tangled up was short lived; just as Susan joined me on my little ledge the guide started up his second pitch, meaning we'd have to wait for that group to get mostly finished before starting that pitch ourselves. Normally not a big deal, but Susan informed me that down on the ground *another* party was starting up Gandalf, with another waiting in line behind them... so there was definitely some pressure to hurry along up the wall.

A busy morning on the Gandalf Wall

So I did my best to squeeze past the Norwegian family once the guide started belaying them up, definitely invading the large personal space bubble Norwegians typically have, but on a climbing wall personal space is a myth. I still had to do some waiting as they climbed ahead of me through a cruxy bit, and after that my line was mostly clear. The pair from the UK had again ended their pitch a little early, giving me a good spot to belay up Susan from, with only some minor unclipping/re-clipping heartburn to make sure the UK follower didn't get tangled in my anchor. Meanwhile, another climber had really invaded Susan's personal space to set up an anchor while she tried to belay me (do you have to use the *exact* same placements??) so Susan was happy to start up the second pitch. By the time she finished we could see the next leader heading up so we quickly traded the gear and belay and I finished the route.

Belaying Susan up the last pitch of Gandalf

Finding the rappel was pretty easy, and after some obligatory shenanigans (involving me hanging out on an intermediary anchor to get the rope unstuck) we were back at our packs to enjoy some lunch and check out the spectacle. Many of the groups that had started before us in the morning were going on their second routes of the day. I think between the three most popular climbs on the wall (which are all within about 10 feet of each other) we counted about 18 - 20 people - by far the busiest strip of rock we'd ever experienced climbing on. And while the Gandalf was really fun, and the granite mostly solid (some parts still looked suspicious but with this many people any loose blocks were long gone), we weren’t sure our first route here exactly deserved its "classic" status. We'd been on plenty of other climbing that was just as good but deserted by comparison. But when you hear someone from the UK remark "I've never climbed on granite before" or someone from Sweden talk about how few multi-pitch routes there are back home, it starts to make a little more sense why this crag would be such a hotspot at an international (European) climbing destination with so much else to choose from. You might have to drive and/or hike a long way, but from a climbing standpoint the US is pretty blessed geographically - as long as you don't live in Nebraska ;).

After the congestion cleared up a little Susan and I also hopped on another route, Gollum, with me opting for a weird/grungy/slightly adventurous alternative for the second pitch and Susan feeling confident enough to lead the third. Our timing was good, during a brief lull in the number of climbers, which made for a much more enjoyable experience on good cracks and flakes that you assume must be really stuck otherwise someone else would have pulled them out already. 6 pitches and 4 rappels seemed like enough for one day so we did the short walk back to camp.

Back at camp we had some new neighbors in a big green tent who were by far the friendliest Norwegian climbers we'd run into ("socializing at the crag" seems to be at the bottom of the list for why most Norwegians climb). Arnstein and Magnus were two strong climbers, a little goofy, but super talkative and happy to ask us questions about our trip and the USA, and chat about their own climbing and perspectives on Norway. Arnstein had passed me setting up an anchor on our last climb, moving as easily as walking on a sidewalk, and we'd exchanged a little off-color climbing humor. Sharing a little food with them by their tent, while they played around with lousy cam placements to help rig a tarp, we appreciated the air of sillines that we hadn't really found yet among Norwegian climbers; Magnus took a piece of cord and improvised it into a little dog, like a clown making climbing versions of balloon animals. Later on Susan interviewed them a bit as to whether it was difficult to be extroverted Norwegians. Diddies and tunes from their wide variety of instruments (guitar, harmonica, tin-flute, kazoo) wafted around the campsite over the next week, providing some wonderful ambiance, and it was always fun to check in at the end or start of a day to talk about what we'd all been up to. Although not everyone appreciated the sometimes shrill notes; a climber cruxing out on the nearby Gandalf Wall at one point desperately shouted, "Will someone stop playing that damn flute!"

The weather the next day was kind of iffy, and we were feeling tired and iffy ourselves, so we started with a trip to "garbage island", A.K.A. "toilet island" (a little island partway to Henningsvær that had some trash cans and another entirely underwhelming pay-to-use toilet that wouldn't even let Susan wash her hands), and then went to a little sport climbing crag. A family was there teaching their kids how to climb - perfect, should be some easy stuff. Susan had a nice conversation with a couple of Norwegian ladies out climbing; the more experienced one, who grew up in Lofoten, was coming back to climbing after a few years due to an injury, and was rigging top-ropes for her friend, and we shared some ropes with them. I was still itching to try something a little harder, so we hiked to a trad area with a couple 5-pluses and 6-minuses, and I proceeded to get scared out of my mind on a 5-plus route with some tricky routefinding and sketchy protection. Hopefully my breathless cursing and quaking legs provided some entertainment for all the climbers hiking past to the harder climbs. I carefully rigged a top-rope so as not to disturb the washing-machine sized death-block at the top of the cliff, and after a TR lap on one of the harder routes we were both quite spent (Susan was far into "nap on a rock" mode).

Back at camp, we took a minute to reflect on our trip so far, partly searching for justification as to why we were so tired. And indeed, we came up with a few excuses:

• Length of trip so far: 32 days
• Nights spent sleeping inside: 11 (6 in a row in Tromsø)
• Number of rest days: 4.5
• Total distance biked: approximately 900-1,000 km (550 - 625 miles)
• Longest stretch spent camping without a shower: 7 days (runner up - 6 days)

Looking at those numbers it felt like time to take a break, so we spent a day away from climbing to bike into Henningsvær for some much needed indoor housing and a shower. Susan did a bunch of laundry in the hotel sink (best washing machine ever!) and we moseyed into the town proper to pick up some food and tourist about for a bit. Checked out the climbing cafe (attached to the NNKS - "Nord Norske Klatre Skole"), which lived up to its reputation as a one-of-a-kind place (somewhere between "a pub, a coffee house, and Everest base camp") serving good coffee and delicious bites to eat. At the shop for a Norwegian artist I spent way too much money on a really neat bracelet, but the fact that all our belongings have to fit on a bike that we then have to pedal made it easy to resist any other souvenir impulses. The weather was good so it was nice to cook dinner on the dock behind the hotel's event hall.

Coffee and snacks at the climber's cafe

This is what happens when dirty climbers/cyclists book a room in your hotel

Ben's new "friendly" bracelet - catch the climbing reference?

Staying the night inside set us up well to get on a longer climb the next day, Bare Blåbær, which promised 5 excellent pitches up a slab with a couple more OK ones at the end. All our sources also promised it to be one of the most popular climbs in Lofoten, despite the long approach, so we went mentally prepared. After a steep and sweaty hike, arriving at the base a little before 11 AM didn't seem too bad since most reports said a lot of climbers aimed to catch the sun later in the afternoon. It was hard to scope the whole route from the ground, but we could see parties on at least the first 3 pitches, with a group of 5 Swedes (breaking down into a group of 3 and a group of 2) queueing up next. OK, maybe some red flags, but the Swedes seemed competent, so we thought we'd be fine to wait it out...

Pillaren, as seen as the approach; Bare Blåbær travels up the slab along the left side of the peak

Looking back on the approach

Queueing up to start the climb, with more than a few parties ahead...

Well, the rest of the day was a lesson in the sunk-cost fallacy. We watched the first Swedish group get stuck behind a party for a loooong time, such that the second Swedish group had been hanging out on the platform at the top of pitch 1 for at least an hour... again, maybe a red flag, but we were here, so why not do the climb? After waiting roughly 2 hours, Susan started leading pitch 1 at about 1 PM. Susan finished the pitch and brought me up before the other party had even started pitch 2 (luckly it was a big 'ol belay ledge). We made small talk and awkwardly laughed and shuffled about, craning our necks in a vain attempt to spot the source of the traffic jam, trying to pass the time until we could all start climbing again. We spent about another hour all on the ledge together.

Finally the Swedes started heading up pitch 2; antsy to get a move on, I started up soon after their last member left the ledge. However, as I neared the end of the pitch, it became apparent that they hadn't set up their belay in the "normal" spot, and were pretty much blocking any passage (since this pitch followed one very nice crack up about a 20 meter portion of otherwise blank slab). Swedes seem to have even bigger personal space bubbles than Norwegians, and our delays maybe traced back to a particularly slow guided group coupled with a Swedish reticence to squeeze into a belay stance with strangers or even friends. So, I proceeded to plug a bomber cam and spend another hour semi-hanging off of it, napping and occasionally doing yoga moves to keep myself sane.

A view of the Bare Blåbær slab from across the way (taken on another day); can you spot the ants on the anthill?

A little while later they moved on, I got to the belay at the top of pitch 2, and Susan joined me. Probably about 6 hours had passed since we got to the base of the cliff, and we'd spent about 2 of those climbing. And, ahead, the Swedish groups again seemed to be snarled around the top of pitch 3. We talked a lot about just trying to bail off the climb but ultimately our stubbornness won out, and we both tacitly agreed we'd finish this climb no matter how long it took. Thank goodness we'd chosen a day with an excellent weather forecast.

The good news is that by the time we finished pitch 3 (an increasingly awkward corner with an airy step-around), the traffic had loosened up, and we were actually able to *climb* the next several pitches in a row. What a concept! Pitch 4 went by, and then I convinced Susan to lead pitch 5, a super-splitter crack going from wide hands to fingers over the course of about 120-130 feet up the slab. She was nervous because of the grade (Norwegian 5-) but did an awesome job, and made sure to use dang near every piece of gear on her harness. It was maybe the longest, most sustained crack either of us had climbed; by the end of the pitch my feet ached fiercely! Most parties had been rappelling down after pitch 5 since pitches 6 and 7 weren't supposed to be as good... but again, we were here, why not do the full climb?! Well, those pitches certainly weren't as good; a little loose, poorly protected, and still slabby. I almost biffed it about 15 feet above my last, lousy piece, losing my balance while juggling a cam and windmilling an arm to restabilize. A little more panicky breathing saw us to the top a little after 10 PM, almost 12 hours after we'd arrived at the base. Not to mention we still had 5 rappels to do to get down... but biking back to our campsite at 1:45 AM the next day provided a really nice chance to appreciate the midnight sun over the ocean during a rare quiet hour in Lofoten.

Susan having finished her lead on the stellar 5th pitch

Selfie from the top of Bare Blåbær

Midnight sun illuminating the sea fog on our bike ride back to camp

Since Bare Blåbær had turned into a 2-day affair, we spent a whole lot of time sleeping before going back into Henningsvær for more food and to check out a different "pitch" - their football (soccer) field, which is probably quite intimidating to play an away game in, surrounded as it is by rocks and open water and the grey wooden racks Norwegian fisherman use to hang their catch for curing. The day after we still took it pretty easy, doing one more climb on the Gandalf Wall (Guns 'n Roses, with a super fun 6- section of overhanging bomber hand-jams). We managed to time that climb perfectly in between crowds; it was empty while we were on it, and the climbing went really smoothly. While preparing dinner the crag filled back up and we got to watch "climbing TV", with several other parties heading up Guns 'n Roses as well as the neighboring Gandalf, and probably two-thirds of them had some trouble (getting really far off route, running pitches too short, backing off pitches so having to do extra), so shenanigans ensued.

Susan at Henningsvær's famous football field

Susan coming through the crux of Guns 'n Roses

Selfie at the top of Gandalf Wall

We were taking it so easy to prepare for climbing Nordryggen (the North Ridge) on Vågakallen, a 973-meter peak whose north ridge was described by the guide as the closest thing in Lofoten to a long ridge route like those found in the Alps. The climbing was supposed to be technically easy, but the route itself was over 1,000 feet long and would be kind of loose and hard to follow, not to mention with a long approach and deproach. Susan and I were looking forward to some type-2 fun.