Less soberly, the islands are jagged granite boulders that rise out of the white spray like the black, jagged back of a sea monster. The first tourists to come here in the 19th century were artists and writers. They painted the sea and wrote dark stories. In "A Descent into the Maelström", Edgar Allen Poe describes how he climbs a mountain on one of the islands with a local mountain guide. While the author clings fearfully to tufts of grass on an exposed rock, the mountain guide tells him about the strong currents around the islands and the infamous Maelström, which he once got into with his fishing boat. It's best not to read this to get in the mood for a water sports vacation.
We visit our friend Bret at his house near Henningsvaer, a village on the Lofoten island of Austvågøy. The village is not located on the large main island, but on a few not-so-proverbial rocks in the surf, which can be reached via two bridges. In summer, Henningsvaer is a popular tourist destination, especially with Germans and Dutch who film the area with camcorders out of their motorhome windows, but also with climbers who come for the spectacular granite walls. In winter, there is little going on, especially when it is raining cats and dogs and you can watch the snow dwindle. It has been a bad winter and the westernmost islands are as good as bare. On Austvågøy there is snow from about 100 m upwards.
Plans that we once had will not be realized this year. While it rains horizontally outside, we study maps in Bret's living room and look for alternative ideas. Bret works for the outdoor company XXLofoten as a kayak guide in the summer and paddles into the village with tourists for coffee. He mentions that the sea kayaks have plenty of storage space and that he has always wanted to go on a ski kayak trip lasting several days. There are plenty of boats and paddling wouldn't be difficult at all. We don't know anything about kayaks, but Bret's enthusiasm is infectious and after a few questions are answered, the adventure is a done deal: Won't you get totally wet? No, we have drysuits! You can just put them on over your normal clothes. What about our stuff, won't it get all wet? - No, the hatches are waterproof and we have drybags in case they're not! The skis get wet, but you can take them into the shower afterwards, then the edges won't rust from the salt water, what if I fall over? I can't do an Eskimo roll! - Then you just get out of the boat! You don't even have to swim, the drysuit and life jacket will do the trick! The following rainy day, we pack our things into the kayaks as a test. There really is a lot of space, but you have to make the most of it Tetris-style. You can't just stuff a full backpack in somewhere and a certain amount of care is also required, after all, a wet sleeping bag would be very uncomfortable. The next morning, we repeat the whole procedure on the beach - here we go!
We want to go into a kind of wide channel between two of the islands and look around for a campsite with ski potential. To do this, we first have to cross a stretch of open water. The waves roll gently, but are so high that the other boats cannot be seen when there is a wave crest in between. Relieved, we reach the more sheltered channel after about an hour, where the surf doesn't crash so thunderously against the shore. Here I can slowly relax enough to loosen my grip on the paddle and enjoy the scenery. Granite peaks rise 1000 meters out of the sea to the left and right. Behind every ridge we paddle past, more steep, beautiful terrain appears. Unfortunately, the avalanche situation is quite tense due to the rain of the last few days and we leave some attractive couloirs to the left and right. After a good four hours, we land on a small beach, behind which a long cirque stretches towards the sky. That looks doable.
We set off from the beach on skis, here on the more sheltered side of the island there is snow right down to the water. The ascent is a relief after the hours in the cramped kayak. The descent falls more into the survival skiing category. We have to deal with the worst broken snow, but the view down into the fjord and the unusual, spectacular surroundings make for a great atmosphere. Back on the beach, we watch the moon rise over dinner.
The next day, we paddle on to the Trollfjord in headwinds and occasional showers of rain and sleet. In the Alps, we would call it a narrow side valley that splits off from the main valley. Here it is a narrow side fjord. We paddle past an almost vertical, kilometer-long granite wall. During a short break, I spot a starfish clinging to the rock and waiting for the tide. Shortly before we dock, we spot two otters swimming through the fjord. We pull the kayaks a little way up the beach and climb a good 300 meters up to the Trollfjord hut at dusk. The cozy shelter, including sauna, is run by the Norwegian Alpine Club equivalent and is an ideal base for all kinds of challenging ski tours. The hut can also be reached from a road, but the approach is then much longer and more complex. After a strenuous day of paddling, we enjoy the crackling fire and almost fall asleep at the table while the wind howls around the hut.
Unfortunately, the avalanche situation has deteriorated further and so we can hardly make use of the terrain around the hut. Flat tours are in short supply. After a short ascent, we ski past the hut and back to the boats. You can ski into the sea. As the weather forecast is miserable, we call Bret's colleagues from XXLofoten and arrange a meeting point on the road on the other side of the fjord, which we reach after two hours of relaxed paddling.
After a few classic ski tours in the area around Narvik, we return to Henningsvaer a week later in perfect weather. From the village, you can see a dream couloir peeking out from behind a mountain peak. There is no road or path, and it would take several hours to get there on foot. We paddle off at a leisurely pace after breakfast and get there in under an hour. On the way, we see a young sea otter demonstrating amazing climbing skills on the rock slabs on the shore. White-tailed eagles circle above the glassy water. Mooring on the rocky shore is a little more challenging this time. We discover that the drysuits work perfectly. You can easily stand in the chest-deep water and heave the kayak out. After all the bad weather, we find what we had hoped for in the Lofoten Islands: A steep, aesthetically pleasing couloir with grippy snow and impressive deep views of the sea glistening in the sun. Getting the boats back into the water is another challenge due to the extremely slippery stones on the shore, but this only adds to the successful adventure feeling of the day. On the way home, we stop for coffee and waffles in the village center. Our shapeless drysuits, which still amuse us because they look so strangely alien, are not given a second glance here. We paddle home in the evening sun. The white mountains of the mainland can be seen on the horizon, while the chain of Lofoten Islands is illuminated by the setting sun. I glide effortlessly through the water and resolve to come back in a better winter. The potential on the Lofoten Islands is endless and kayaks are the better helicopters.
Useful and miscellaneous
Organizational help of any kind, guiding services:XXLofotenLLB Lofoten Snow and precipitation maps for NorwayLea's travel diary/blog
