Just don’t start slipping

(Photos of the diary entry can be found at the end of the text).

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In the morning, the top of the pass is covered in thick fog. There is absolutely no sign of the beautiful view. Because of yesterday’s long and eventful day, I’m dog-tired and would love to stay here another day. Dock, dock, dock, knocks on the cabin door. “Who could that be?” asks Tanja in amazement. I shrug my shoulders and open the door. “Sorry to disturb you. I just wanted to offer you electricity, water and internet access again,” says Bjorn. “Oh, that’s very kind of you. We have everything at the moment,” I say thankfully. “It’s a shame that visibility is so poor today, but tomorrow should be better. As I said, you can stay here as long as you like.” “That’s wonderful, but we have to make sure we head home slowly. Apart from that, the pass road will be closed tomorrow,” I reply. “Oh, the pass road is no problem. We have our own clearing machine and I would clear the road for you.” “That’s incredible. You would do that for us? We’re complete strangers to you, aren’t we?” I reply. “We are a hospitable house. I would be happy to do that for you. Just think about whether you’d like to stay here for a few more days and let me know,” he chats and leaves us alone again. “What more can you say. The Norwegians are really very hospitable,” says Tanja happily. “Hm, what are we going to do? Stay another day or two or carry on driving?” I ask. “I don’t know, it could end up being tight. Then we’ll be stressed again and you don’t want to leave your mother alone at Christmas,” Tanja points out. “That’s right, we promised to celebrate the festival with her. It wouldn’t be good if we didn’t make it in the end.” “So, what’s your decision? Stay or carry on?” “Drive on,” I answer with a heavy heart.

It is already 12:00 noon when I start the Terra’s engine. Light drizzle has added to the white splendor and made the pass road slippery in places. With the reduction and splitter gears engaged, I let the Terra roll down the icy road in third gear on a 9 percent gradient. Yesterday we drove up the mountain at around 30 km/h to 50 km/h, but now the speed is between 10 and 20 km/h. Just don’t skid and, if possible, don’t step on the brakes. Highly concentrated, I steer our mobile in the middle of the road. This way, we have a good distance to the edge of the road and I can react before we go down the embankment or precipice. Tanja sits surprisingly cool next to me and also looks intently at the road to warn me of particularly slippery-looking spots. This way we reach the valley without any incidents. We follow the E6 south again. After just a few kilometers, the single-tube Korgfjell tunnel swallows us up. “I’m always amazed at what we humans can build,” I say a little louder, as the engine noises of our Terra echo from the partly wet rock walls of the tunnel into the driver’s cab. “Well, you should be used to the endless tunnel rides by now. I’m surprised that it still fascinates you,” Tanja replies. “Hm, actually it shouldn’t. You’re right, but this tube is something special for me.” “Why, doesn’t it look like many others?” “Yes, except that right now we’re driving under the old pass road from which we’ve just slipped into the valley.” “You mean the Blood Road is directly above us?” “Yes, just a few years ago it was the only connection for all heavy goods traffic. Imagine that up there on the icy narrow roadway, heavily loaded trucks were traveling in both directions.” “It’s hard to imagine. There must have been accidents, right?” “Sure, and when it snowed properly, the road was often closed. That was also the reason why we couldn’t cross the pass and had to go back. In comparison, driving through a tunnel like this is child’s play.” “Now I understand what you meant by something special. It feels crazy when you know exactly what a mountain range towers over our heads and at the same time weighs down on such a tiny tube.”

In the afternoon we arrive back in Midt-Noreg, or Central Norway. The North Cape is already more than 2,000 kilometers behind us and there are only just under 1,500 kilometers left on our planned route to the ferry at the port city of Kristiansand. Heavy clouds, soaked with sleet, cover the land with a nondescript gray mantle. Nevertheless, we recognize a bright strip in the south that must come from the sun and promises longer days again. Until we reach our overnight stop today, a lonely cemetery next to a small village, we cross 35 larger and smaller bridges, drive through 5 tunnels and gain 20 minutes of daylight over a distance of 190 kilometers…