Distance: 56.1 miles

Time: 5:53

Elevation Gain: 5,114 feet

In the morning, I was sitting out a passing shower when disaster struck! In an instant, a strong gust of wind came off the fjord and buffeted the side of the tent, and snap, the piece joining the middle pole section to the legs had been ripped apart and the end of the tent had collapsed.

Suddenly I was fully awake, and at a loss for what to do. The pole could be placed back into the connecting piece by hand, but the screw thread had been completely stripped and it was no longer secure, so susceptible to failure with even lesser winds. I had been right to predict that there was bound to be a weakness in having such a complicated pole design, and the decision to bring the tent had clearly been a mistake given the likely conditions.

While holding the pole together, as best I could, when the wind picked up, I rushed to put on my cycling kit and dived out of the tent, dismantling it as quickly as possible, before having to pack up sharpish to stop all of my equipment getting wetter still. Thinking through my options, it seemed like I might have to, either buy a new tent, or potentially attempt a long distance tent swap at the mercy of the postal service.

For now, though, all I could do was get back on the road and try to surmount the 1500 foot pass currently standing between me and the large town of Forde. Starting off on the lower reaches, it was hard to keep my temperature in check, between the high humidity, the constant precipitation and my waterproof clothing. One positive, was that my legs, which hadn’t exactly been thriving on the bike up until now, seemed to be coping ok on these not too extreme gradients.

After climbing for an hour, the road had plateaued momentarily and I dared to hope that the climb was over, but alas, when I rounded a bend the road veered up ahead, and I came to a sign that seemed to signify that the climb was only really just beginning. This was the point at which trucks were to don their snow chains.

At 7%, the gradient had definitely ramped up and I tucked into a bus shelter to cool down a little and get out of the rain.

Further on, I encountered a herd of cows standing in the road, and hoped they would take averting action before I had to, but the animals wouldn’t budge, appearing to be a little startled to see me struggle so slowly up the hill. Veering out of their way, I gave them a wide berth before catching a glimpse of the the ultimate prize up ahead, a tunnel marking the top of the climb.

Zipping up my jacket, I careered off down the other side, and soon Forde was in sight, and it was a reassuringly large town, soon facilities might be at hand.

Creeping around the edge of the Fjord through a tunnel now for bikes, I emerged from the wilderness into the middle of the town where it straddled a thundering river.

With my power bank now empty and my phone battery running worryingly low, I had to choose wisely regarding where to eat. Opting for Peppe’s Pizza as a sit in option, I was delighted to find that they had a lunchtime buffet option. Furthermore, when I was shown into a booth with its own power sockets, I knew I couldn’t have picked any better.

Making use of the amenities available, I finally found gas for my stove, and also picked up some superglue and duct tape. It had been suggested to me that I could try supergluing the pole into the connector, and having realised that this would still allow the poles to be folded up the same way as before, then it became a viable option.

At least having the glue gave me the possibility to try staying in the tent again, but for this evening I’d booked a cabin at Krokanes campsite in Florø. I had a lot of wet kit, and many empty batteries to recharge.

Heading out of town on highway 5, I soon discovered that I wouldn’t be following it all the way to Florø, when the road turned north and through a 6 km tunnel in which bikes weren’t allowed. The route veered off through a charming, and flat valley, before swinging west at the far end and the road started to climb, and climb.

Slightly worried at this development, I checked the route profile for the road ahead and was taken aback. The climb earlier in the day had maxed out at 1500 feet, but this one kept climbing up to 1700. I wish I’d known that when estimating my time of arrival at the campsite.

The climb was long, but the gradients were kind, and in stark contrast to earlier it was now hot and sunny, and with no wind. The lack of wind was a concern, as it probably meant that the wind was on the other side of the mountain and that I’d have a 30 mile struggle along the fjord when I got to the other side.

Luckily the breeze was light and the weather was beautiful for the descent down to the fjord at Eikefjord. Pedalling strongly on the flatter gradients it was a lovely evening for cycling, and a relief to make it to the campsite at 20 to 9, with an hour or so before sunset.

Now to get a few things dried…