Field note 10 The Long North
Ride until the continent stops.
Out of Russia into Finland, up through Lapland to 71 degrees north, and then the whole Norwegian coast south: the fjords, the Lofoten, the ferries, and out through Denmark into Germany. Four weeks in the autumn of 2022.From Rodrigo's road archive
Touch or hover a marker on the route to see what is there.
The Long North
Ride until the continent stops.
Out of Russia into Finland, up through Lapland to 71 degrees north, and then the whole Norwegian coast south: the fjords, the Lofoten, the ferries, and out through Denmark into Germany. Four weeks in the autumn of 2022.
- 71°NThe furthest north
- 4 countriesFinland to Germany
- 27 daysEnd to end
10.1The globe at the North Cape, 71 degrees north, the point Europe runs out. The road up is the last stretch of continent there is.
10.2Both motorcycles at the monument. The cliff drops straight into the Barents Sea and the next land north is the Arctic ice.
10.3Jacko meeting a reindeer. In Finnish Lapland and northern Norway they wander the road and have right of way in practice as well as in law.
10.4Last light over the water, with the dog on the rock. This far north in September the sun takes hours to leave.
10.5Camp beside a Norwegian cabin, with the sheepskin still on the seat. Norway allows wild camping almost everywhere: the right to roam is written into law.
10.6Two bikes outside a cabin. I rode this leg with a German rider met on the way north.
10.7A turf roof, the old Norwegian answer to insulation. Grass on the roof keeps the heat in and the wind out.
10.8Up on the tundra. Above the tree line the ground turns to moss, rock and water.
10.9A mountain pass with snow still lying in September.
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10.0Out of Russia into Finland, up through Lapland to 71 degrees north, and then the whole Norwegian coast south: the fjords, the Lofoten, the ferries, and out through Denmark into Germany. Four weeks in the autumn of 2022.
One missing stamp, and the whole trip nearly stops at Kuhmo.
The Russian leg ended at midday on 28 August, with mixed feelings. I had liked it enough that the better plan would have been to carry on north to Murmansk, a city I had visited seven years earlier while working in Kirkenes. I had promised the person who hosted me there that I would come back one day on a motorcycle, and I had imagined arriving to keep that promise more than once. Lucas was waiting on the Finnish side, and my brother Tomas at Rovaniemi, so it did not happen.
In the queue at the border I realised I had never given Jacko his parasite treatment, and that without it we would be sent back, with no chance of finding a vet out there. I borrowed a pen from the officer checking my own papers, went to a corner, and filled in the signature, the place and the time in Saint Petersburg, working backwards from how many days ahead the treatment has to be given.
At the window the passport had a signature but no stamp. They went to fetch somebody else. There was no way to contact the vet I had picked at random off Google Maps, so in very poor English they let me understand that I was through this time and should be more careful next time.
That was a close one. Without it I would have had to wait about five days, because it has to be given that far in advance to work.
What the road kept
The monument is the excuse. The coast is the reason.
Everyone rides north for the globe on the cliff, and it is worth standing there. But the part that stays with you is the three thousand kilometres afterwards, with a ferry every few hours and a mountain coming out of the sea at every turn.No tent, whisky, and a dog who picked the better sleeping bag.
I met Lucas again the same day, both of us with a week of stories to catch up on. We loaded up with food at the supermarket and went looking for somewhere to wild camp.
The place they found was spectacular, at the end of a track deep in mud. There were cabins, locked, and they tried and failed to get into them. So they built a big fire and slept out in the open with no tent, drinking whisky and beer and watching the stars.
Jacko worked out fairly quickly that my sleeping bag was too narrow, and moved into Lucas's instead. Lucas took him in.
10.10Tromso, the largest city this far north, wedged between the mountains and the sea.
10.11Riding south. From the North Cape it is around three thousand kilometres to Hamburg, and every one of them is worth taking slowly.Chilean wine on the Arctic Circle.
At Rovaniemi, where the Arctic Circle crosses the town, I met my brother Tomas and Tomas's Finnish partner. They were waiting with good Chilean wine, proper avocado of the kind you get at home, and smoked salmon.
It is a long way from Santiago to sixty six degrees north. It is not a long way from a table with your brother at it.
10.12A working harbour street. Everything up here arrives and leaves by water.
10.13Grey weather, which is the normal weather. Rain is part of the plan on this coast.Out of Russia, and the north begins.
The crossing into Finland at Kuhmo changed everything at once: forest, lakes, and roads with nobody on them. Rovaniemi sits on the Arctic Circle, and from there north the trees start to give up.
By Inari the country is tundra, Sami land, and reindeer standing in the road as if the road were theirs, which in practice it is.
10.14On the ferry. Between Tromso, Senja, the Lofoten and Bodo the road is broken by water again and again, and each crossing is part of the route.
10.15The end of the continent, from a distance.Seventy one degrees north.
The cape is a cliff three hundred metres above the Barents Sea, with a steel globe on the top of it and nothing beyond but water and ice. Getting there means crossing Norway's northernmost county on roads that run out of trees, then out of shelter, then almost out of light.
It is not a beautiful place in the postcard sense. It is grey, wind blasted and often in cloud. That is the point: you ride to it because the continent stops there.
10.16A road cut into the mountain. Norway has more than a thousand road tunnels, because there is often no other way through.Then three thousand kilometres of the best road in Europe.
The way south is the reward. Tromso, wedged between mountains and sea. Senja. The Lofoten islands, where the peaks come straight out of the water and the villages sit on stilts along the shore. Bodo, Molde, Bergen, Stavanger.
Norway's coast is so broken that the road is not continuous: it is a chain of stretches joined by ferries and by more than a thousand tunnels. The crossings are not an interruption, they are the route.
10.17The track ahead. Between the fjords the country opens into wide green valleys.You can sleep almost anywhere, and you will need to.
Norway's right to roam allows camping on open land almost everywhere, which is just as well: this is one of the most expensive countries in Europe. Turf roofed cabins, a fire, a sheepskin on the seat and a dog in the tent.
September in the north means the birch is already turning, the rain arrives sideways, and the light in the evening lasts for hours. Then Sweden briefly, Denmark, and the border into Germany, where the ride ends.
10.18Two loaded bikes in the birch. September in the north means the colour is already turning.The field archive
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