Pulpit Rock was a real hiking challenge, for me. My son Tevis did not seem to work as hard to reach the top or to descend safely. It is also a mental challenge and I have lots of friends who would be terrified of the edge–especially given the 604 m drop (and no safety rails). When we saw pictures of Preikestolen or Pulpit Rock on Pinterest, all on a sunny day, we agreed it was one of the things we had to do when we visited Norway.
We left on the first ferry from Stavanger. There was only about 50 feet of flat before the climbing began so we were glad for the cool, foggy morning. We shared the trail with hundreds of European girl and boy scouts who were in Norway for a jamboree. It did not take long for this to become a “one step at a time” physical test for me. I found all of the languages, none of them English, oddly soothing as I focused on my ascent. Tevis waited for me at several points along the trail, always looking irritatingly fresh.
The last 100 meters was the hardest. I was so relieved to get to the top and see Tevis waving from the distance. I did not find the edge particularly intimidating; it might have been different on a clear day. We ate our picnic lunch and recovered from the exertion. We agreed that even with the view-robbing fog the effort was worth it.
I did not think I was concerned about the edge at the time, but notice how I am leaning away from the edge and into my son Tevis! I kept remember the stories of people who hiked to the top with their dogs and then stupidly tossing the ball and watching in horror as their dog chased it over the edge. Preikestolen legend or true story? I do not know, I just know that I breathed a little easier for children and dogs as we hiked away from the edge.
Descending was just as challenging, mainly due to the crowds ascending and my overall weariness. It took me 2 hours to hike up and another 2 hours to hike down to the Visitor’s Center.
When I saw the Where’s My Backpack “Travel Theme: Edge“. I immediately thought of Pulpit Rock.
I am participating in National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo, this month. I have several longer travel-writing projects I want to pursue and I am challenged with carving out the time needed to complete these and get them to publication. I am excited about this challenge. I completed a 50,000+ word novel in 2011 while I was living in St Heliers, Auckland and it helped me discover myself as a writer. I wrote the first draft to a mystery novel called Death by Sand and Gravel. Over time I discovered that I make a better travel writer than mistress of mysteries, so I am using November to recommit to a more disciplined approach to my writing life.
The reward will be a couple of long essays that I can independently publish through On Your Radar Media Company and many, many blog posts. There are other rewards. To write “The Hip and Chic Knitter’s Guide to Norway,” I will also knit a pretty-in-pink project that I purchased in Bergen. This will involve some pattern translation challenges and may involve interviewing other knitters who regularly translate patterns from other languages into English. This child’s sweater will also be a Christmas gift for a friend’s daughter. (Sorry to remind you that Christmas is coming.)
Thinking through how I am going to translate this pattern–asking my friend Susie in Sweden to help me and coordinate with her friends in Stavanger–got me to thinking about how travel is no longer a time set aside with strict bookends. At one time it felt like my “self” on adventures abroad was somehow different that the duller, more cautious Julie who lived a work-a-day life in NorCal. At some point, my travels and the friends I made on my adventures became so numerous that they could not be easily contained in a 2 week time slot called “vacation.” The transition was complete when I redesigned my life to be less about earning a paycheck and more about living a full life. I now have as many or more friends living abroad and I see my travel adventures as bright colored threads woven into my life tapestry, not a separate scarf only donned at the airport. Nor are my work threads the beige neutral threads in my life; they are full of vibrant color too.