January 18, 2019

How far can we ride into the frozen wilderness? Will we experience comfort or despair under a blanket of snow? Will we find grip and traction on ice rink roads? Will we freeze?

These questions, and many more alike flash through our minds, as we leave the port of Copenhagen ­— our ferry steaming ahead towards Oslo; the Norwegian fjords and the snow-covered forests beyond. An adventure into the unknown for three intrepid GripGrab employees.

It is thick fog as we cruise into the Oslo fjord the following morning. The sun rises low in the sky, and we catch glimpses of the snow-covered landscape on the horizon. This is the land of the Vikings — we are sure it will demand great fortitude to ride out into the distant wilderness.

Our spiked ice tyres rumble on the tarmac as we head north west out of the city, and into the hills. The roads soon empty of cars, and the snow deepens on the verges. This beautiful landscape sculpted by ice — we feel like daring adventurers tiptoeing through the majestic scene.

It is not long before we leave the tarmac behind; ducking under a barrier that signals the start of the extensive network of forest roads. Now we are properly alone — tiny dots spinning up empty tracks, alongside cliff faces draped in icicles. When will we see the first wolves?

This first day of our three-day adventure was always going to be a test — a massive 120 kilometres through the ice fields to reach our ski resort hotel. We pause very little: partly through fear of losing the valuable body heat accumulated under our many layers; partly because we know it won't be long before the snow arrives.

It is 15:00 hours when the darkness creeps in, and with it the snow starts to fall. We leave the forest trails behind for the day and turn back onto the tarmac — we need to crunch some kilometres beneath our spiked tyres.

We pass through villages full of cosy red cottages, and past closed road-side restaurants offering tempting 'hot food and drinks' — just not in early January, it seems…

Our helmet vents fill with snow, and we have to frequently wipe our glasses to see out into the driving flurry of whiteness. Our hard work on the pedals keeps us warm, and we joke about looking like Santa with our white cotton-wool like snow beards; but really, we are gritting our teeth — pushing hard towards the end goal.

Finally, with 110 kilometres clocked, we pull up in the gas station in the town of Noresund. Hot chocolates and hot dogs all round — anything with 'hot' in the title sounds good. We still have an 11 kilometre climb to reach the ski resort, but we need to refuel the burners.

After defrosting, we head back out into the darkness. 19:00 passes, and we are still climbing the icy switchback road; watching the snowplough on the slopes above us. These are roads we never thought you could climb on a bicycle, not at this time of year; and yet, we are grappling our way to the peak on a path usually reserved for snow chains and skis.   

By the time we reach our accommodation for the night, we have left everything on the slopes. We stumble into the hotel reception, snow dripping from reddened faces; the other guests look on slightly confused ,"You guys just rode here? But… it's January?!"… "Yeah… right" we respond with a weary smile. Time for a warm shower and dinner.


Day 2 will surely be an easier affair — we have a downhill to start, a strong northerly tail-wind, and the snow is definitely subsiding. We try to ignore the minus 14 degrees wind chill report.

We start with a playful descent of the hairpins that last night had posed such a challenge. We are fast learning from experience: two thermal base layers, two pairs of gloves, two pairs of winter socks; we are layered up like onions to protect ourselves from the chill.

Once down to the level of the fjords and forests, we are in great spirits. Our confidence in the Nordic conditions is growing, and we are embracing our inner Viking. We even head off the beaten track to explore the deep snow next to the river… that ends in a series of somersaults, as we discover that our ice spikes don't make you invincible against the stopping power of fresh powder.

Single-track playtime continues as we race south with the tailwind; the sky clearing to show glimpses of blue that cast our previously monotone surroundings in fresh colour.

We call into a Norwegian truckers' stop for a late lunch, and joke about how you would never find 'grilled salmon and roasted root vegetables' on a menu in your typical European road-side café — welcome to Norway.

The sun is setting as we pull up at our lakeside hotel. It has been another long day in the saddle, but we have the energy for fist-pumps and beers; we feel like Arctic explorers, finding our feet and embracing our 'Deep Winter' surroundings.

We head to bed reminiscing about ice skids and frozen eyebrows.


Before the sun has risen, we are on our way for the third and final day of 'The Norwegian Exploration'.

The road has been ploughed to allow safe passage, but it is near deserted in the early morning darkness. We rumble along, crunching tyres on the frozen path.

As the sun rises on the fjord-side road it reveals a magical scene — the cold dark waters contrast with the crystal white snow; and in the distance, we can see the high mountains we had ventured into on the first day of our expedition.

We take time to stand and stare.                   

Climbing the final hill reminds us of the miles we have accumulated, and the conditions we have ridden through — our legs are heavy, and the rumble of tyres is the only conversation in our surroundings.

At the summit, we look down on the frozen Oslo fjord below. The late afternoon sun glistens off the ice, casting long shadows on a peaceful panorama.

As we coast down the hill, and weave along the single-track at the side of the fjord, we laugh and joke about the experiences of the past three days. What an exploration. What a voyage of discovery. We feel like the Three Musketeers — heading back to civilisation after a pioneering adventure.

We Ride in All Weather. We #RideTheWinter.

Words: Tim Wiggins 

Photos: Martin Paldan and Tore Behrndt Andersen

Video edit: Thomas Jean Nielsen


Nordic Windproof Deep Winter Lobster Glove

Primavera Merino Midseason Glove
Multifunctional Thermal Fleece Neck Warmer

Also in GripGrab Stories

From Copenhagen to Nordkap
From Copenhagen to Nordkap

July 01, 2020

For Danish Pro-Continental rider RASMUS QUAADE, reality hit hard when he was informed that he effectively wouldn’t have any financial income for the remaining year from his team, Riwal Readynez. In any household, an announcement of this kind would automatically raise concern, but in the home of Rasmus Quaade and Michelle Lauge Quaade they think differently. 
Read More

April 27, 2020

Originally founded in the US, Gravel today isn’t only an American thing. Like the Americans, cyclists around the world has discovered their journey doesn’t have to end just because the tarmac doesSo, whether you’re a Weekend Warrior trailing the nearby woods or you throw yourself in at the deep end in gravel races like Trans Continental Race, Silk Road Race or the Atlas Mountain Race, there is certainly plenty of adventure ahead where the silence grows. 
Read More

March 30, 2020

The Cover Sock - or Over Socks as they are equally called - is a sure sign that Spring is upon us. It is the strange cousin of winter overshoes, who appears at the party when it becomes too hot for winter overshoes, while it still being too cold to ride without anything over your toes and feet. But why a sock over your shoes?
Read More

GripGrab Journal