I apologize if this ends up being lengthy and for the obvious lack of computer skills that will most likely put photos in an inappropriate order. For the past 10 years since a BC steelhead friend suggested my brother and I join her and her Aussie husband where they met, on a salmon river in Norway, it has been the fishing I have looked forward to most. This year was no different. I tied Atlantic salmon flies for several months, checked and changed lines and started making a pile in the living room. Then about two weeks before the flight to Trondheim was to depart a visit to my GP and subsequent testing revealed a disturbing blood work anomaly. It appeared that I had contracted a nasty case of prostate cancer. Pro tip. Should you ever have some time to kill and have the chance to get a prostate biopsy choose to do something else. Given the current state of health care availability (apparently there must be a reason why only 32 out of the 33 developed nations have adopted an efficient universal health care system) I was left with a decision. Either wait around for 3 or 4 weeks worrying and hoping the referred oncologists had a cancellation or make sure my waders didn't leak, buy some whiskey and join the hurried queue at SeaTac. The choice was actually pretty easy. I couldn't wait to get here.
Unfortunately upon arrival in Norway it was apparent that my fly rods had chosen not to board the same flights that I flew on and were not to be found. Having given ourselves a couple days to shake off the jet lag and 9 hour time zone difference, and knowing that the lodge had some extra equipment, panic did not immediately ensue. Sure enough 2 days later upon stopping at the airport on the drive to the lodge the nice lady at luggage services emerged the bowels of her storage area carrying a somewhat scarred homemade PVC tube holding my cherished collection of spey rods. Things were looking up and we began the 2 hour drive to our place of residence for the next few weeks.
Not much had changed since our departure the year before and I looked forward to getting on the river later that evening. Actually one minor thing had changed. The day before the Norwegian government, in response to low salmon return assessments, had closed the salmon fishing in 33 of the top salmon rivers in the country, all of those in the Trondelag region including the river we were going to fish hoping to encounter creatures that looked kinda like this.
It was not meant to be. There were two options. Get on a plane home and return to the doctors or do a little exploring in Norway. After talking to the folks at our lodge we found that the rivers in northern Norway, due to later run timing, had not been closed by the government so back in the car we got with only an inexact idea of where we might head and no place to stay or water to fish and proceeded to drive about 11 hours north rather than buy a ticket for an early flight home. That would have been admitting defeat.
On the way we enjoyed the beauty of northern Norway and the diversity of the Norwegian environment. Fjords carved their way deep into the interior with small enclaves at the head of each, ever present waterfalls cascading off the rocky mountainsides.
With elevation fjords and forests gave way to the sparse Arctic grasses, lichens, mosses and stunted birch trees. The spacing between the trees almost made them appear to have been planted but was most likely due the absence of sufficient nutrients in the soil to allow them to exist any closer to each other.
About 7 hours into the journey we passed a demarcation that was a first for me.
After a brief stop and successfully avoiding the impulse to acquire some pretty hokey souvenirs we continued north. As we lost altitude the vegetation changed again and evergreens reappeared though none were greater than about 6 inches in diameter due to their slow growth this far north. We were headed to a secluded valley of some six to eight hundred residents who raised sheep and grass to feed them during the winter when they were not left to their own devices which apparently included chewing and sleeping in the road.
After starting our descent of an Arctic mountain pass we started to get a view of the incentive for the drive north.
To be continued.
Unfortunately upon arrival in Norway it was apparent that my fly rods had chosen not to board the same flights that I flew on and were not to be found. Having given ourselves a couple days to shake off the jet lag and 9 hour time zone difference, and knowing that the lodge had some extra equipment, panic did not immediately ensue. Sure enough 2 days later upon stopping at the airport on the drive to the lodge the nice lady at luggage services emerged the bowels of her storage area carrying a somewhat scarred homemade PVC tube holding my cherished collection of spey rods. Things were looking up and we began the 2 hour drive to our place of residence for the next few weeks.
Not much had changed since our departure the year before and I looked forward to getting on the river later that evening. Actually one minor thing had changed. The day before the Norwegian government, in response to low salmon return assessments, had closed the salmon fishing in 33 of the top salmon rivers in the country, all of those in the Trondelag region including the river we were going to fish hoping to encounter creatures that looked kinda like this.
It was not meant to be. There were two options. Get on a plane home and return to the doctors or do a little exploring in Norway. After talking to the folks at our lodge we found that the rivers in northern Norway, due to later run timing, had not been closed by the government so back in the car we got with only an inexact idea of where we might head and no place to stay or water to fish and proceeded to drive about 11 hours north rather than buy a ticket for an early flight home. That would have been admitting defeat.
On the way we enjoyed the beauty of northern Norway and the diversity of the Norwegian environment. Fjords carved their way deep into the interior with small enclaves at the head of each, ever present waterfalls cascading off the rocky mountainsides.
With elevation fjords and forests gave way to the sparse Arctic grasses, lichens, mosses and stunted birch trees. The spacing between the trees almost made them appear to have been planted but was most likely due the absence of sufficient nutrients in the soil to allow them to exist any closer to each other.
About 7 hours into the journey we passed a demarcation that was a first for me.
After a brief stop and successfully avoiding the impulse to acquire some pretty hokey souvenirs we continued north. As we lost altitude the vegetation changed again and evergreens reappeared though none were greater than about 6 inches in diameter due to their slow growth this far north. We were headed to a secluded valley of some six to eight hundred residents who raised sheep and grass to feed them during the winter when they were not left to their own devices which apparently included chewing and sleeping in the road.
After starting our descent of an Arctic mountain pass we started to get a view of the incentive for the drive north.
To be continued.
