We first saw an image of Kjeragbolten on the Spectacular Norway Facebook page and we were instantly taken by this rock hanging, seemingly suspended, high above Lysefjord, with the most stunning view below. We decided our trip to Norway must include a hike to this famous boulder and to experience the unique landscape surrounding it.
We arrived the evening before and set up camp in Lysebotn, 640 metres below the start of the hike and at the top of the Lysefjord. It was a stunning evening and had we known the weather was going to turn so quickly we would have hiked to Kjeragbolten that night. Instead, we planned to set off early to beat the weather that looked likely to set in mid-afternoon. Unfortunately, the rain came early leaving us sitting in our van in the campground in Lysebotn wondering what to do. The forecast looked worse the next day, and not much better the following, so our window of opportunity was that afternoon, if the rain eased.
At 11 the sky started to lighten and we decided to drive to the parking area at the start of the hike and wait for it clear further. The road from Lysebotn to the parking area is a 7.5 kilometre, windy and steep, one-lane road, with a 1.1 kilometre tunnel with twists and turns, and makes you feel you’re on an amusement park ride.
When we arrived, we spoke to the park ranger who told us the rain was likely to stop around 2, and that would be our window of opportunity. Time for lunch in the campervan. At 12.30 the rain was still heavy and we discussed briefly whether we should call it a day. While we waited and watched the sky for signs of the weather breaking we saw a few brave souls heading off on the track. It didn’t look pleasant.
Finally, I made the call that if we were going to do this we needed to leave at 1. It’s a 6-hour hike, and in the wet conditions we weren’t sure how much longer it may take us, and we still had to drive to our camp in Haugen, 1 hour 20 away.
We layered up, coated up, and packed supplies; chocolate and water.
Then, just before 1 the rain stopped, so we set off. There was no gentle beginning, we were thrown into it with an immediate climb of around 200 metres almost straight up.
To give some perspective, the hike to Kjeragbolten is described as hard on the noticeboard at the track entrance, and difficult on most websites. You are advised that if it’s wet it can be very slippery and you should be prepared for all conditions and wear the appropriate hiking gear. It’s a hilly 9.6km roundtrip with about 600 metres of climbing, and goes across some challenging terrain, made even more so by the heavy rain.
The first climb was the hardest for us. We needed time to get our “mountain feet” and adjust to the conditions. Looking up from the carpark it was almost ridiculous seeing tiny people far up on the ridge and thinking we were heading there too. On this first ascent we were passed by many hikers returning who looked pale, wet, and weary, and even a cheerful hello and encouragement that they were only metres from home, couldn’t raise a smile. This is not the motivation you need when you’re just setting out, but given the heavy rain earlier on we could understand why they weren’t overly enthusiastic.
There are three main climbs on the way to Kjeragbolten and two on the way home. We were told by returning hikers that the third climb was the killer, but we were on a roll by the time we got there and found this the easiest, perhaps because the goal was just around the corner. The chain guides on the steepest parts were a great help, even better coming back down when you could walk backwards and use them like you would abseiling.
Once we reached the top of the first climb we were relieved to see there was a flat walk in front of us across a rocky plateau before the track dropped down into a valley glowing with spring growth, the green a beautiful contrast against the slate grey rocks. The second ascent up the other side of the valley started easily with well-formed rock paths but very quickly we were once again navigating steep boulders and putting thought into every footfall. We were reminded that when climbing rocks, you must consider the consequence of your path well before taking it.
The weather held out for most of our walk, it rained, but not heavily, and there was no wind, so the 8-degree temperature didn’t seem too low. When we reached the third and final climb we were more prepared for what was instore, and although it looked bigger and steeper, we didn’t find it as hard and even passed a couple of groups on our ascent.
The final couple of kilometres to Kjeragbolten were across an undulating rocky landscape with water running across every surface and large snow drifts reminding us of just how high we were.
A sign post told us we were 300 metres away and our energy levels surged. A short walk through the snow and we turned the corner to see a group of figures gathered in the mist and realised this was it – Kjeragbolten.
The snow went right down to the edge of the crevasse, which was a bit unnerving, so I quickly made my way to the rocky outcrop, away from any slippery surface that could have me plummeting to the fjord below.
Wedged between two cliffs and hanging 1000 metres above Lysefjord, Kjeragbolten is the trophy photo for many travellers to Norway. If you want to stand on it you have jump down on to it. It’s not a big jump, but it’s more than a step, and with 1000 metres of emptiness below you it isn’t for the faint hearted.
I am scared of heights. I always have been. I dream of falling often, and leading up to this hike had dreamed of falling off this exact boulder. So, I always knew I would never be one of the supposedly 25 per cent of hikers who stand on the boulder to get their photo taken. I thought that maybe, had it been a lovely day, I may have considered it, but when we arrived in the mist and with snow underfoot, I knew straight away I was happy just to see it and appreciate its magnificence. Luckily Mr Love agreed that it was too slippery and didn’t consider jumping out on to the boulder either – I couldn’t have stomached that. While we were there we only saw four people get on the boulder, and there were at least 25 people on the summit.
We were lucky that the clouds cleared enough for us to get a full appreciation of the drop down to the fjord below, and we could take some great photos to remember the experience.
After about twenty minutes we turned and headed back. As always, the journey home is faster and we bounded along the mountain ridge towards the first descent. The descents were difficult in the wet and there were a few slips and slides. I resorted to scrambling down on my bum for a few of the hairier bits and Andrew became a specialist at using the chain supports and going backwards down the rocks, so much so a Czech woman mirrored his every move down the final descent.
On the second descent, we met a young American guy who was in a very bad way. He was on his own and was struggling. He hadn’t realised how tough the hike was and had an anxiety attack as a result. We gave him chocolate and a pep talk and he headed back to base with us. It made us realise that not everyone can do this, and as Kiwis we take our outdoors knowledge and experience for granted.
The final descent was agonising. We could see our van far below but it seemed to take an age to get there as we carefully made our way down the slope. Just as we reached the bottom the mist rolled in, reminding us how quickly the weather can change on the mountains.
We had done it! After just under six hours we were back. Tired and happy we clambered into the van and drove off to find a hot shower and a cold beer.
