Dovregubben mischieveousness

Not content with having a key role in Henrik Ibsen's Peer Gynt, and a minor role in The Troll Hunter, the Dovregubben (or Mountain King from Dovre) made his mark closer to home and it was to this mark we wandered last weekend.

The Gaupestein, although referring to the Lynx, was actually left by Dovregubben in the area of hills, forests, streams, lakes and marsh to the south of Oslo, Sørmarka. After an ongoing run of arguments with his neighbour, the Rondenissen (presumably from Rondane), the Dovregubben lifted up his stone house and outbuildings onto his shoulders and travelled south.

He met up with the Ekebergnisse from whom he received some local knowledge and a request for help. Ekebergnisse asked Dovregubben to mediate between the two warring clans of Viken and Follo, who were arguing over who owned which land. Dovregubben agreed. On the way to meeting them he got thirsty, for it had been a long journey from Dovre, and so at Gjørjevann took a drink. What once was a lake became just a puddle, such was his thirst. Thirst quenched, he carried on until finally reaching Gaupeåsen. The view from the hill was stupendous, and he was able to see as far to the sea, over almost unending forests that teemed with animals.

The sheltered area just under the hill of Gaupeåsen struck Dovregubben as a fine place to stay, and handily enough would clearly define the border between Viken (now called Tomter) and Follo (now the areas of Kråkstad, Ski and Enebakk). Carefully he unloaded his stone houses, trying to do so as carefully as he could. But no! One stone landed with a boom against the other and was heard far and wide. The clans as far away as Viken and Follo heard the boom, and with that, Dag from Viken and Åsmund from Follo, who had just come together to discuss their boundaries, startled at the noise.
They gathered their weapons and rode as far as Svartbekken (the black beck), and to their surprise they saw smoke coming from a huge rock that had never been there before! They couldn't see any other signs of rock fall, and there was no way on Earth that another clan could have moved the stone into place, so they together decided that it was an act of a higher power and that here the land boundary would go. Dag and Åsmund went back to their own chieftains with tales of what they had found. From that day the warring over boundaries ended for now they had a boundary that could never be moved.*

Thomas and I took the train from Oslo and after a 35 minute journey arrived at the rural village of Viken Tomter. It immediately had a very different feel from the city and as we headed up the hill through the village, the friendliness of the locals' greetings as they sunned themselves in their gardens was a markedly pleasant change from the more typical capital city lack of acknowledgement. I have rarely felt such welcome in Norway – clearly the boundary agreement promoted a feeling of continued wellbeing!

The wind was harsh as it swept around the smooth contouring hills, so it was a blessing to pass from the short, road section into the sheltered, managed forested area. We'd had a customary alpine start so it was already time for lunch, which we had at the side of a forestry road. Hardly well earned but still lovely to eat outdoors!

After rejoining the road, we continued in squishy mud tracks from the tractors and after a short while saw a man walking in the snow to clean his boots off. He noted our packs and engaged us in a chat about what we were doing and giving us tips on where to camp. He thought our target campsite was wet, and Thomas was a bit concerned about where we'd be able to get water, other than melting snow, so it was useful to get some local knowledge.

We continued on, joining a ski trail which had compacted snow, effectively ice, that had melted and frozen and repeated countless times this mild winter. Neither of us had brought spikes or border, so we had slower going in the shadowy areas while the sunny parts had a softer layer of icy snow that afforded some grip. We passed from active forestry into "real forest" where moss covered mounds, mire, marsh and birch accompanied the pine, spruce and fir. The smell was glorious, the spring coming. The mild winter means that the bacteria hadn't had so much chance to gather and release the noxious smell given off when snow has laid on the land for months on end. Glorious!

We wended our way through the woods, up and down the small hills, around marsh pockets and over planked mire, eventually coming to the Gaupesteinhytta – a scout cabin on the side of Breidmosan which lays alongside Gjøretjern. The hytte announced itself way before we arrived with the whoops and laughs of young boys. The scouts were in town, building shelters, playing with fire and generally engaging in "friluftsliv". A couple of adult(ish) men sat by a camp fire on the far side of the hytte, replete with three legs of lamb hanging from a cross bar above the fire. I told then we'd come back later when it was cooked :). Thomas was engaged by the hammock display and geeked out telling me which models they were. It was fun to see them in use by people with a clear affinity to the land.

The blue marked path beckoned us on into the woods again, becoming lush green and luxurious as the moss thawed in the weak sun. More stream hopping ensued with twisting paths weaving through the woods. Sometimes we'd find a snow pocket where the sun wasn't able to reach the depths of a dale or the north face of a hill meant that the sun wouldn't reach anyway. Temperature differences were marked with cold pockets and warmer areas, making the walk interesting in lots of different ways.

The edge of Gaupestein

Trying to avoid a red trail (red trails around Oslo mean winter trails) we walked parallel on the blue and rounded a corner to see the path rising up to an alder leaf littered brown knoll with the Gaupestein raising massively, sturdily in its bulk. It was quite awe inspiring to come across this massive stone, 20 x 10 x 8 meters tall. Trees surrounded it, and created a very trolsk (bewitching) atmosphere. This was where we'd camp - an easy decision! A stream ran nearby (of course - you can't get away from them for more than 50 meters it seemed) so it was perfect for a very cold, clear water source. Plenty of dead, dry wood meant that we were happy to use it in the fire ring nestled towards the Eastern side of the rock.

Thomas, with glow :)

We divided up tasks quite easily so while Thomas put up the tent for our first night in it, I collected wood and water. The water was still covered in ice about 75 meters away up a small gorge, so the trickle was very cold and quite delicious. The temperature was sinking though, and had barely been above freezing all day, so it was full puffy, michelin man moment with my Rab Neutrino Plus, as well as my rain pants over my long johns and winter-lined trousers. With a RealTurmat meal next to the crackling fire we were quite warm, the flickering shadows and embers shooting into the sky.


It was the first night for a very long time where I've had a comfortable night sleep in colder than zero temperatures! Last year I splurged on a Western Mountaineering Antelope MF bag, and that with my puffy jacket and a couple of strategically placed Hot Hands hand warmers kept me warm over night. It went to about -5C, and my bag is rated for 10 less than that, so I guess I am just a very cold sleeper. Having a double walled tent is very much worth it for me, and probably for Thomas, too, as I'll certainly be happier the next day after decent sleep...

The next day was fun as soon as we started walking! Up the gorge that had supplied our water we quickly levelled out into a small grotto, for want of a better word. A rock wall up to Gaupeåsen on our left with pools of water underneath, icicles and frozen water forming sheets in front of us, and ice covered moss looking like emerald stalagmites. Forward the gorge took a downward turn, heading North and down. Which meant snow. Quite like my previous walk, this one involved a lot of negotiating, either in the new stream (we'd passed a watershed), in dubious looking marsh, or sphagnum covered something or other which we weren't quite sure if it indeed even had a bottom, or back on the snow which may or may not hold under your weight. It was fun and exhilarating, and tiring and heart racing sometimes. At one point we had to get up the back and onto the hill where the sun had blazed a trail of green. It took over an hour to travel 2km.

Further down the trail faint ski tracks appeared on the snow, with a man and his dog's prints, as well as some very old elg prints. But there seemed to be very little indication of frequent traffic which lent a different feeling to being in the woods.

We stopped for a refuel at the side of Høltjern, discussing what we wanted to do; to continue on our original plan and another 8km or so more, or to short circuit the plan and head to Vik. A warm drink was needed as we sat in a chilly spot only a weak sun, and wondered at the deep booms and sharp cracks as the ice on the lake shrank slowly. A grouse gurgled in the forest. The map showed the trail to be more kilometres of ski trail, which promised tediously slow walking on ice, so we decided to dive out (of the trip) early. We were both glad of the decision, and it was refreshing to do a bit of tarmac bashing, at least being able to walk in a rhythm for a joined up amount of time. Thomas was joined on the road by a local on his bike who regaled with stories about a 20Kg pack weight for a winter hytte-to-hytte tour. And he'd already lightened his pack.

Høltjern

We made the bus with 5 minutes to spare, saving us from another hour wait, and headed North, back to the city.

*Another rumour has it that the stone was moved into place after the last ice age, but I can't really see that being credible - can you?

For any Norwegians out there who would like more info, this is a good link to walks in the Gaupestein area.