St. Olav Ways III- The Østerdalsleden Path - Michael Schildmann - E-Book

St. Olav Ways III- The Østerdalsleden Path E-Book

Michael Schildmann

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Beschreibung

NIDAROS - the Jerusalem of the North - was a very important pilgri- mage destination for centuries - until the Reformation. For some years now, pilgrims again are making their way along St. Olav Ways to Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim in Norway. In his third pilgrimage book about the Ways of St. Olav, Michael Schildmann describes his experiences on this very special Scandinavian track: from Karlstad in Sweden via Inbygda to Nidaros Cathedral. After his succesful German trilogy of the Ways of St. Olav, here you find the thought-provoking diary and guide to a pilgrimage route that not many people have found by now. - Schildmann made his first pilgrimage in 2007 on the Way of St. James from Somport Pass to Santiago de Compostela and Muxia.

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Thank you Pü.

This translation was created with the help of DeepL, a very helpful translation programm, and was then further revised.

I apologize for any translation errors.

The basis was the 2018 edition of my book „Unterwegs auf dem Østerdalsleden“

Michael Schildmann

Table of Contents

Preface

Forord

Tag 01: Thursday, June 20 / Oldenburg-Berlin-Rostock-Copenhagen

Day 02: Friday 21.6. 3:15 Copenhagen-Göteborg-Karlstad

Day 3: 22.6 - Karlstad - Nedre Frykken/ B&B Sköne Rum Fryksta 23km, Weather: mixed

Day 4: 23.6. Nedre Frykken - 18km to GPS „Campsite“ Hagudden Midsummer Night

Day 5: 24.6. „Campground“ Hagudden - Humletorp 12km

Day 6: 25.6 Humletorp - Prästbol 18km

Day 7: 26.6. Prestbol - Lappnäs 27 + 2km Weather: sunny, overcast, rain,

Day 8: 27.6 Lappnäs - Lysvik 16 km sunny, sometimes slightly cloudy

Day 9: 28.6. Lysvik-Torsby 21 km (plus car approx. 5 km)

Day 10: 29.6. Torsby - Camping 45 21,5 km

Day 11: 30.6. Overbyn/Camping 45 - Värnäss 35 km

Tag 12: Saturday 1.7. Varnäss, beautiful weather, light wind, 4km

Tag 13: Sunday 2.7. Renates birthday, 28 km Varnäss - Brönäs / Maya, beautiful weather, light wind

Tag 14: Sunday 3.7. 10km , car + 7km footpath Brönäs -Ransbysätern, weather beautiful, light wind

Tag 15: Tuesday 4.7. 23 km Ransbysätern-Långberget, nice weather, light wind

Tag 16: Wednesday 5.7. 14Km Långberget - Södra-Aselbergsätern, nice weather, light wind

Tag 17: Thursday 6.7. 18km Södra-Aselbergssätern - Hölljes, sunny, cool, light wind

Tag 18: Friday 7.7. Bus ride 29km, running distance: 21 km Hölljes-Mandfloen/Elfried, sunny, cold

Tag 19: Samsatg 8.7. 23km Mandfloen - Trysil, first sunny, then slightly cloudy, cold, then rainy

Day 20: Sunday 9.7. / 9 km Trysil, first sunny, then partly cloudy, cold, then rainy

Tag 21: Monday, 10.7. / 26 km Hyttegrend Trysil - Camping Fredbo, slightly cloudy, not so cold anymore, later rainy

Tag 22: Tuesday, 11.7. / 26 km Camping Fredbo - Eltdalen, rainy

Tag 23: Wednesday, 12.7. / 21 km Eltdalen - Munkbetsætra, cold. rainy, stormy

Tag 24: Thursday, 13.7. / 9km Munkbetsætra - Osdalssjøen

Tag 25: Friday, 14.7. / 22 km Søre Osdalssjøen - Nodre Rensjøen, clear, cool, windy

Tag 26: Saturday, 15.7. / 17 km according to GPS Nodre Rensjøen-Åkrestømmen, blue sky, little wind

Tag 27: Sunday, 16.7. / 32 km Åkrestømmen - Mountain set, mix, thunderstorm, wind, sun

Tag 28: Monday, 17.7. / 27 km Bergset-Smedberget, Mix, Thunderstorm, Wind

Tag 29: Tuesday, 18.7. / 26 km according to GPS Bergset/Smedberget - Cottage at Skårsjøen, Sun, Cloudy, Wind

Tag 30: Wednesday, 19.7. / 27 km Hut at Skårsjøen - Småvangan ski hut, sunny, cloudy, windy

Tag 31: Thursday, 20.7. / 17 km Småvangan Ski Hut - Tynset Sun, Cloudy, Wind

Tag 32: Friday, 21.7. / 26 km Tynset-Vingelen Sun, Cloudy, Wind

Tag 33: Saturday, 22.7. / 21 km according to GPS :Vingelen - Dalsbygda Rain

Tag 34: Sunday, 23.7. / 22 km Dalsbygda-Spelmovollen hazy at first, then sunny, rain showers and sun in the afternoon

Tag 35: Monday, 24.7. / 27 km to GPS Såttåhaugen/Spellmovollen-Storbekkøya/Budalen at the beginning hazy, then rain showers, from noon sunny

Tag 36: Tuesday, 25.7. / 16 km to GPS Storbekkøya/Budalen - Varda/Budalen hazy at first, then cleared up, partly sunny, later rain showers, dry in the evening

Tag 37: Tuesday, 26.7. / 13 km Pilgerbua Varda/Budalen - Kari‘s summer residence/Bjørga/Singsås light, slightly cloudy, partly sunny, dry

Tag 38: Thursday, 27.7. / 21 km to GPS Kari‘s summer residence/Bjørga/Singsås light, slightly cloudy, partly sunny, dry

Tag 39: Friday, 28.7. / 10 km Pilgrimsbua Okstjønna - Ski hut Samatun light, slightly cloudy, partly sunny, dry

Tag 40: Saturday, 29.7. / 18 km Ski hut Samatun-Heimvollen bright, slightly cloudy, partly sunny, dry

Tag 41: Sunday, 30.7. / 13 km to GPS Heimvollen-Fogdegården Borten sunny, dry, temporarily cloudy

Tag 42: Monday, 31.7. / 18 km to GPS Fogdegarden-Rødde, sunny, dry, at times cloudy with rain and thunderstorms

Tag 43: Tuesday, 1.8. / 8 km Rødde Folkehøgskole -Tiller/Birgittakloster sunny, dry

Tag 44: Wednesday, 2.8. / 15 km Tiller/Birgittakloster - Trondheim/Nidarosdom sunny, dry

Tag 45: Thursday, 3.8. / Trondheim/Nidarosdom / sunny, dry

Tag 46: Friday, 4.8. / Trondheim/Nidarosdom slightly cloudy, sometimes sunny, dry

Day 47: Saturday 5 August, Trondheim - Oslo train ride, sunny, rain, alternating

Tag 48: Sunday, 6.8. / Oslo slightly cloudy, sometimes sunny, dry

Tag 49: Monday, 7 August / Oslo slightly cloudy, sometimes sunny, dry

Tag 50: Tuesday, August 8th / Oslo-Copenhagen-Berlin-Oldenburg

Preface

The pilgrimage, both yesterday and today, consists of a walk along historical paths to sacred places of pilgrimage. Unlike in the past, today we live in a culturally and religiously diverse society, which also shapes the modern pilgrim phenomenon. Today‘s pilgrim defines to a greater extent cause and motivation for his pilgrimage. Pilgrims are tolerant and searching, and for many the pilgrimage is a journey to find meaning in their own lives.

Experiences of nature, encounters and community, culture and history are important. Central to many is the desire for peace, freedom, simplicity, carelessness, silence, spirituality and sharing. Today‘s pilgrim is free to decide on his pilgrimage, and no one can claim to influence and define the pilgrim phenomenon for religious or other reasons.

In summer 2012 I met a tired pilgrim in Stiklestad, Michael Schildmann, who was soaked with rain. He had literally followed in the footsteps of Olav Haraldson and wandered via Sweden to the place where Olav was killed in the battle of Stiklestad in 1030.

As I met him later, Michael is enthusiastic, curious and in a good mood. He was looking forward to getting to Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim this way. Some people like to walk on predetermined paths. Others prefer to go their own way. Michael belongs to the last category; he is a pioneer who seeks silence in the woods and mountains and rediscovers the ancient paths to the medieval pilgrimage destination of Nidaros.

This time Michael hiked on almost forgotten and overgrown paths from Karlstad to Østerdalen and on to Trondheim. The pilgrim paths must be constantly remarked and maintained so that everyone can find their way, and Michael is a pioneer in this regard.

Michael‘s dedication and enthusiasm inspire and motivate many. It inspires other people to pack their backpacks and embark on a pilgrimage that captivates people. Thank you and good hike!

Trondheim, 4 October 2018

Hans Morten Løvrød /National Pilgrim Centre Trondheim

Forord

Å vandre på historiske leder til gamle helligmål er selve pilegrimsvandringens særkjenne, både historisk og aktuelt. Til forskjell fra tidligere tider lever vi i dag i et kulturelt og religiøst mangfoldig samfunn, dagens pilegrim definerer i større grad selv både årsak og motiv for sin vandring. Vår tids pilegrimsfenomen er preget av mangfold, pilegrimen er åpen og søkende og pilegrimsleden er for mange et sted å søke mening i eget liv. Opplevelser av natur, møter og fellesskap, kultur og historie, er viktige. Sentralt for mange er ønsket om langsomhet, frihet, enkelhet, bekymringsløshet, stillhet, åndelighet og det å dele. – Dagens pilegrim har selv eierskap til sin vandring, ingen kan gjøre krav på å «eie» dagens pilegrimsfenomen.

Sommeren 2012 møtte jeg en sliten og gjennomvåt pilegrim på Stiklestad. Michael Schildmann hadde bokstavelig talt gått i forsporene til Olav Haraldson tvers gjennom Sverige og inn til stedet hvor Olav ble drept i Slaget på Stiklestad i 1030.

Michael var entusiastisk, nysgjerrig og i godt humør, og han gledet seg til å fortsette vandringen inn til Nidarosdomen i Trondheim. Slik har jeg også lært han å kjenne i ettertid.

Noen mennesker liker å gå i gode spor, og andre liker å gå opp disse sporene. Michael tilhører siste kategori, han er en pioner som søker stillheten i skog og fjell, og som gjenoppdager de gamle ferdselsvegene mot Middelalderens pilergimsmål.

Denne gangen har Michael gått opp spor på gjengrodde veger fra Karlstad mot Østerdalen og videre til pilergrimsmålet i Trondheim. Fortsatt må disse vegene merkes og tilrettelegges for at andre lett kan finne fram, men Michael har vist vei.

Michaels engasjement og entusiasme gleder og motiverer mange, han er en døråpner som bidrar til at stadig nye mennesker pakker sekken og legger ut på en reise som berører. Takk, og god vandring!

Trondheim, 4. oktober 2018

Hans Morten Løvrød /Nasjonalt pilegrimssenter

Tag 01 Thursday, June 20 / Oldenburg-Berlin-Rostock-Copenhagen

The green (Flix) bus starts at a quarter past six. I am sitting in the second row on the right, have taken a pillow with me and soon fall asleep. Bremen and Achim are two more stops, then we are on our way to Berlin via Hamburg. Sometime near Hamburg I wake up again, search in my pocket and find a roll. At the opposite window, there‘s a man of my age. He’s on his way to his grandchildren‘s „service“ in Berlin, he tells me. His own are already thirteen and sixteen, those of his second wife are three and a year. My own grandchild is almost two years old. He is not a hiker or „pilgrim type“, as he says, but explores the world by bicycle, with his wife and friends, formerly through the whole world, now along German rivers.

While waiting in Berlin for the bus to Oslo I meet another guy. He‘s about ten years younger than me and unemployed right now. As a young man he often travelled with the Interrailticket, he still lives on it today, because today he only sits on a bench in the bus station and dreams himself away, takes off with the bus in his mind. The destinations are on the outside of the bus.

I am listening to Mendelssohn‘s Scottish Symphony while we are on the way to Rostock. In 1829 Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy was travelling in England and towards the end of the year in Scotland. Similarities between the landscapes of Norway and Scotland don‘t seem so far-fetched to me... Thoughts go through my head: Do I overdo myself with this huge backpack? MUST there be so much food, couldn‘t I just look first, on the spot? And the path is still unclear. Shall I use a track or clarify it on site? Where are hostels or cabins in Sweden? - My thoughts go back and forth. At the moment the „fear“ is gripping me a bit more (not for the first time), but nothing can be changed any more.

„Dearest“, I listen to the old song by Buddy Holly – it’s like a flashback into our early days, almost fifty years ago now. A lot of feelings, melancholy, longing rise up in me. And do I always have to get out? Do I have to go far away again to feel the longing? There‘s an older couple sitting next to me now. He folded his hands, she put her hand between his hands. That‘s what we do sometimes, my wife and me. Do others become stingy, too, as they get older? Do they realize that dreams are still pushing for fulfilment? Some things can‘t

Göteborg centralstation - built in 1858

Karlstad - SFT-Wandrahem in Former baracks

be done by two, some things can only be done by two. Must separation be practiced to say to oneself, „Yes, I can.“ „Yes, but I don‘t want it.“ Whoever stays longer must be able to live on. Can one practice that?

Shortly after six, I am on the ferryboat to Gedser. There is a strong wind blowing, the ferry is only occupied to one third. In the restaurant I finally take fried fish fillet with French fries and mayonnaise. Rarely have I eaten so „unhealthy“ in recent years, but my rolls are all eaten up and the choice here in the restaurant is limited. „The exchange office closes in five minutes.“ This announcement is driving me up. To be on the safe side, I change two hundred euros to one thousand and eight hundred and fifty Swedish crowns. Having some cash with you is certainly useful even in Sweden, I think. Suddenly a Finnish ferry is crossing our course, is it coming from Kiel?

Just before eight a.m.. Now I‘m sitting upstairs in the bus, in the second row, with a wonderful view of the landscape that flies by on the right and or on left. Usually these are extensive grain fields. An African is sitting in front of me with his girlfriend. On the right a woman is talking all the time, she is already on the phone for more than an hour.

Half past nine. Since some time we are waiting at the main station of Copenhagen, the drivers have to take a break. It reminds me of a night five years ago when I was on my way to Sundsvall, my second pilgrimage to Trondheim and we had to wait here in Copenhagen for the bus from Paris.

From here I‘ll go to Gothenburg, arriving at about three in the morning. But I only realized that an hour ago. So I ask myself: „What am I doing at three o‘clock in the morning at Gothenburg station? Where can I stay? And how do I bridge the time until I continue on to Karlstad in the afternoon?“

Day-02 Friday 21.6. 3:15 Copenhagen-Göteborg-Karlstad

Fortunately, a young Swede got out with me here in Gothenburg. He was helping me find a place to stay. Most places are closed, but not McDonald‘s. They‘re open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and they have free access to the Wi-Fi. And so now

I‘m sitting here a latte macchiato in front of me, not far from the station. An old man is sitting in a corner, he has fallen asleep, despite the rap music. Groups of young people constantly come in, buy burgers, coke, sit down and leave large amounts of rubbish behind when they are gone. Everybody looks at their smartphone all the time. I take off my jacket, the heating runs. At some point there is a shift change, everything is cleaned, and other employees take over the places behind the counter.

Tonight is the shortest night this year, it‘s summer solstice. You can tell that even here in town. It‘s not getting dark, and at 4:10 a.m. it‘s sunrise again.

On the bus, I was wondering if I should find a room in a hotel. It turned out to be difficult despite Wi-Fi in the bus, and when I arrived in Gothenburg I renounced and classified the stay as part of the adventure. Nevertheless, I am now downloading some overnight apps, such as Hostworld or a camping app for Scandinavia. And then there‘s possibly Airbnb, where I could also find a room. Most of the young people who are still on tour at this time are chic dressed, many seem to have African roots. Or are they migrants? A young man sits at my table. He says he stayed at the station because he missed the last train. But then he was kicked out, an overnight stay was illegal, the guards told him. He tells me that I could have booked my route from Gothenburg to Karlstad easier and faster. (I had done it by Swebus, but got a train/bus ride on the ticket.) „If you had taken the Swedish Railways website,“ he says, „they would have just sold you a train ticket. Probably the train would leave sooner than this afternoon.“ That annoys me a little, of course. Then more young people come, friends of him. They ask me about the Pilgrim‘s Way, have never heard of St. Olav‘s Ways, but find pilgrimage an interesting possibility. At some point, they go home, go to bed I think.

And I go to the station - it’s five o‘clock, it should be open again and sitting here in McDonald’s gets boring for me. In the station I find a bench, put my backpack next to me and look at the people around me, including the interior of the station. Then I try to book a ticket to Karlstad at the nearby ticket machine. There are quite a few earlier departures, even relatively soon, but when I try to pay I find that I don‘t have the pin of my credit card. And my German cash card is not accepted by the ticket machine. Now I‘m getting worried. If I can‘t pay with my credit card here, how will I shop on the way - that‘s what the card was meant for. In Sweden and Norway, the credit card is accepted at every small kiosk and used a lot. Why didn‘t I try that? „Well,“ I think, „I‘ll go straight to the ticket office and buy a ticket.“ Unfortunately it will take a long time before it opens.

In the end the employee, who opens his office at seven, can‘t help me either, but at least he gives me the idea of putting my backpack in the locker. It‘s strange that I didn‘t think of it before. It fits in, and now I‘m free to leave the station. When I pass an ATM, I wonder if is is taking credit card - and spitting out cash. It works, I‘m relieved. Now I can discover the town. I have Gothenburg maps on my GPS, so I can‘t get lost. Soon I‘ll be standing in front and then in a church.

The Christinenchurch in Gothenburg

It is the church of the German-speaking parish. In 1623, two years after Göteborg was founded, a German community was formed there. It consisted of Protestant immigrants from the Netherlands, Germany and Scotland who helped to build the city. In 2014 the parish has about 900 members and is part of the Swedish Church. Sunday services take place at 11:00 a.m. in German in the Christinenchurch and are attended by an average of 80 people.

The foundation stone of a stone church was laid in 1634 and consecrated in 1648. Queen Christina had financially supported the construction of the church and granted the German community basic privileges on 28 April 1649. Therefore the church was named after Queen Christina. On 10 May 1669 the entire northern town with the German Church burned down. The church was reopened in 1672.

The Christinenchurch was renovated between 2000 and 2001. The copper roof of the tower and a large part of the nave were renewed, the walls of the nave were plastered on the outside and repainted on the inside. Since 1961 there has been a glockenspiel with 42 bells in the tower of the church. It plays chorale melodies three times a day.

A little later I reach the cathedral, where I light three candles. There‘s a reference on the door to a devotion at twelve a.m. Until then, I stroll on, enter the market hall and eat a Swedish vegetable soup at one of the regional stands. After the twelve o‘clock devotion in the cathedral I ask the priest for a travel blessing. He‘s sending me to the priest in Karlstad, before I leave tomorrow morning. But, so he says, he would also like to go on pilgrimage and continues: „These days my wife reaches Santiago.“

Shortly before four p.m. I am back in the station, I get my backpack out again and search for the right platform. Somehow, however, the different information does not fit together. I‘m asking. At the counter of the Swedish State Railways I am grumpyly referred to the Swebus counter. I show them my ticket, but the lady behind the counter only notices that this connection does not exist. „But,“ she comforts me quickly, „I‘ll print you another connection. It will take you to Karlstad without changing trains. Please hurry, your train will be leaving soon.“ I wonder about this mess, but I have got a ticket and I‘ll be in Karlstad in time. The reception at the youth hostel will no longer be manned at that time, they e-mailed me, but I would get the door code if I was there and then called a certain telephone number. Now all I have to do is find my train.

After all, the older train jolts comfortably through the sunny forest landscape, circling Lake Vänern on its southern shore. Arrived in Karlstad, I don‘t let myself be distracted or carried away to a city tour, but walk past the city hotel, cross the Klarälven, keep left at the Värmland-opera and go to the SFT hostel at the old barracks.

Karlstadis a Swedish town in the historic province of Värmland on Lake Vänern and the capital of the present-day province of Värmlands län. The city with about 60.00 inhabitants (2015) is the capital of the municipality Karlstad and seat of the diocese Karlstad of the Swedish Church as well as a university town since 1999. Karlstad is Sweden‘s seventeenth largest city. Värmland is known as a landscape of poets, and Karlstad was home to several artists. One of the most esteemed is Gustav Fröding. Karlstad‘s symbol is a happy sun, known by the Sola i Karlstad. The legend says it that it was a cheerful waitress in her town inn that gave the town its sunny reputation. Since 1984, a statue has stood in her honour in front of the Stadthotel.

In front of the hostel I get the door code by phone and move into my room on the second floor. Two beds, but I‘m alone. Finally I can take a shower and put on some fresh clothes. Only a few people can be heard in the building. In spite of various rebuilds, one still notices that it was formerly a barracks.

Half past nine: my simple meal is quickly prepared in the members‘ kitchen. Mexican stew and the fast three-minute noodles. Afterwards I take a walk and explore the old barracks area and its current use. I am in bed at 11:30. It‘s still light outside.

Day 3 - 22.6 - Karlstad - Nedre Frykken/ B&B Sköne Rum Fryksta 23km, Weather: mixed

Twenty to seven: I can’t stay in bed anymore. I get up and have a shower. I think my backpack is ready. It had been raining last night and while I was listening to it in bed, I thought about my plan, about the route and the pure fact that I want to start my third St. Olav Way this morning. That‘s a “good” start, it went through my mind. I say to myself, that is not the first rain on my route - and certainly not the last. So what the hell, I‘ve got my rain gear and I‘m not made of sugar.

And by the way: “At the moment it is only slightly cloudy.” I lock my room and go to the breakfast room one floor down. On the way I come across my laundry. I had forgotten that yesterday evening I had washed and fixed it to the railing in the hallway of the side stairwell. A drying room was not available and people I could have asked did not meet me. However, while walking around in this old barracks building, I noticed the warmth especially in this stairwell. Ideal for drying laundry, as the heat climbed up from the cooling unit in the cellar. So now my laundry‘s dry. My shirt, trousers and underwear are quickly collected, brought back to my room and stowed away in my backpack.

First I pay for the overnight stay by credit card and signature (I don‘t need a Pincode at all), my DJH ID proves useful for a small price reduction, then I inquire after breakfast. “Yes, there‘s the breakfast room over there, make another sixty crowns.” Okay, who knows, when I‘ll get the next decent meal. There is the usual buffet: juice, milk, muesli, fruit, tea or coffee. I‘m enjoying it in peace. Todays track is not too long and I want to take it easy.

Again I‘m a little afraid of my own courage. Almost 50 days, more than 700 km, many of them not based on pilgrim routes, but on my own planning. How‘s that work? Can I find a place to stay overnight, again and again? Campsites somewhere in nature? I‘d rather have camping sites (with the typical cabins) or B&B sites; at least I‘d like a mattress. The tent and mattress, I am carrying, are for emergencies only.

I am ready at a quarter past eight. Backpack on, stairs down and out. Ha, the weather has improved even more. My self-designed path leads along the old barracks.

At the end I approach the through road and cross it at a traffic light. According to the plan I should follow the road to the right, walk next to it on the old roadway. Then I see the large square opposite, look at my GPStrack and think: „If I cross this square, I could certainly continue more comfortably and calmly back there“.

So there it is again, my „problem“, my inner voice, which always comes up with doubts about the way. No matter whether the way was made by me or the “original” way, this question arose again and again earlier: if I would walk there, then it might..., then it would be certain... I have known this voice for a long time. Already on my first pilgrimage in Spain it had often contacted me. Most of the time I suppressed it. But sometimes it was right, I‘ve checked it from time to time. Somewhere deep inside I know that I have a good feeling for space and can usually find my way around the landscape if I‘m observant. But unfortunately, this is not always the case. Today I‘m looking at the track and stop the (inner) discussion. But not even half a kilometre later I decide spontaneously and turn left into the forest - I leave the preplanned track for the first time. This procedure should prove its worth. The „rough“ direction is determined by the track in the GPS device, I decide on the exact route on the way.

The route through the forest is beautiful. After some time I reach the suburb of Råtorp, have a look at the settlement, leave it at the northern end and finally reach the Klarälven. On the map it looked so nice, always along the river... But the road I chose has far too much traffic, it’s very noisy. But there is no other. So I walk on the wide, asphalted cycle path and footpath.

My new backpack is easy to carry. Of course I had tested it before, but today is the first day I carry it with full luggage for a whole day. It‘s already a decent weight squatting on my back. Strictly speaking, the hips carry the largest part: the hip belt tightly buckled and the shoulder straps loosened. So the shoulders carry only little and do not hurt so easily. So far the theory, and so far my practice. Around ten I take the first break and put my backpack down.

When I want to pee, I notice a problem, a spot in the front of my trousers. What I know from earlier pilgrimages in the late afternoon has already occurred within the first two hours. The belly strap pushes the water down out of my bladder. It‘s a result of the prostate removal I had to undergo years ago. At that time, the urinary bladder closing mechanism was reduced from two to one. If there is strong pressure on the bladder now, urine will pour out. The remaining closing mechanism normally works fine, but not under the pressure of the hip belt. Since it must be so tight, I will run from now on with a (self-made) insole. Whatever. There are worse things.

After everything is ok again, I eat a sandwich that I could make at breakfast this morning and then I start again. Thirty minutes later I get to Skare and right at the entrance to the village a petrol station awaits me. Petrol stations are often the only meeting places in small villages. Here you fill up your tank, drink a cup of coffee or quickly take a Pölser, chat a little, buy what you forgot, and then go on. That‘s exactly what I‘m doing. The milk coffee ordered from the vending machine unfortunately is only a normal coffee. With a lot of milk and some sugar it becomes drinkable (although unfortunately lukewarm), the piece of cake with it tastes great. Payment again is made by (credit) card. In addition I have to show my identity card and sign it. Cash has not been abolished in Sweden, but it is receding into the background. Payment with credit card is convenient for me because I rarely find an ATM to get cash.

While the coffee is standing in front of me, for the first time I try to send home a „point“, my current position. This is quite easy to be done from the GPS program that I installed as an app on the smartphone. Simply by longer finger pressure at the desired place that point „opens“ and with „share with“ it’s sent home by E-Mail. (Today to my wife, my daughter and my friend Nicolaus, who is my home-base.)

And why do I send such a “point”? Here at the gas station I leave my track again and prefer to walk through the small village. At the next turn there is a supermarket. There‘s a coming and going, but I don‘t need to shop. Most people look grumpy, or don‘t look at all, which means they are probably somewhere else in their thoughts. A woman in a beautiful blue sweater, probably my age, comes out and lights up at me. She would love to join me, she says, but unfortunately... She shrugs her shoulders and wishes me a good journey.

I arrive at a square with a small pond. Next door is the school. As I leave this village to the north, I pass a refugee shelter. Many of the strangers sit outside, others walk in my direction, to the main road and to a bus stop. The two I‘m talking to are from Afghanistan. They are surprised because I‘m travelling with backpack. Where Trondheim is situated, however, is not quite clear to them. But they‘re friendly, almost cheerful. (About being safe?)

The next place on this road is Grava. I had already decided to move the track from the main road to a side road before and now I notice that it leads into a nature reserve. And that it leads to that little church whose tower has been looking at me for some time. This is a surprise for me. Next to the panels with historical information there is a pole with the symbol of St. Olav Way. A great joy twitches through me. Here you go, how wonderful. I‘m already on my way to Trondheim. I decide to take a break to look at the church. Unfortunately, it‘s locked. But then I discover the cemetery workers. They send me to a flat building and behold, an employee of the church office comes with me, unlocks the church door, explains some important data to me and then leaves me alone. „After some time I leave the church again and look for a sheltered, but sunny place to sit down and have lunch. After that I take a little nap.

Grava Church

The first time the name Grava is mentioned in any action is in a donation letter of 1359, when a man named Olof, a priest in Grava, is mentioned. It can therefore be assumed that Grava had a church in the early Middle Ages. According to Erik Fernow‘s „Owerwer Wermeland“ (1773-79) it was built of wood and lay north of today‘s, perhaps under the northern cross arm, which was added only in 1764. This first church must have been small and insignificant. When the church is replaced by a new one, it is built of stone and slightly larger. 11 meters long, 6.5 meters wide and 6 meters high. In 1635 it was extended and a tower was built. In 1645 the church had its full length in west-east direction. In 1684 the southern arm of the cross was added, which gave the church a strange shape. 1764 - 1770 the church was given the cruciform ground plan it now has. The tower was rebuilt in 1862.

(After: www.svenskakyrkan.se)

Although Karlstad is certainly an important place with important churches, I could not decide for an extra day. When I arrive on site after my arrival, I am almost drawn to leave, then there is no stopping. Only once, in Porto in the north of Portugal, when me and my wife wanted to walk the Portuguese Camino to Santiago de Compostela, we indulged in a day to roam this wonderful city more exactly.

When I leave again, I could walk in silence, at least a short distance. The path is away from the main road, first it runs along the river Klarälven, but then I follow road 725 along lake Södra Hyn. Here again there is a small detour, closer to the lake. Everywhere there are holiday homes with access to the lake. Later I follow road 714 from Dyvelsten to Kil. At Illberg I missed the chance for a side track. Later near Apertin I turn left again, hoping for a place to sleep. This is said to be the alternative starting point for „Frykenleden“. This is a marked pilgrim‘s path from Kils to Torsby along the elongated Fryken Lake. I found the track while googling at some point and included it in my plans. I benefited from the fact that it contains several suggestions for places to stay overnight. This already gave the first half of my Swedish track a certain basic structure. The other starting point is in Kils, right at the station.

Unfortunately the hotel in the former manor house of Apertin is closed today. So I can only walk through the public park, then come to a small settlement on the other side and finally get back to the country road 714, meanwhile close to the trotting track. But nearby is also the old church square of Stora Kil with weathered tombstones and an octagonal funeral chapel surrounded by a stone wall. I‘m taking another break here.

Grava church

The very first Swedish Railwaystation

The old church square of Stora Kil

Until the middle of the 17th century there was a medieval church on this cemetery. Then from 1652-1673 a new stone church was built, but already in 1864 it was demolished. Instead, the community had built a new church in Tollstad on Lake Fryken.

The Broman-Löwebhjelm Chapel was built at the end of the 17th century. Broman was bishop of Karlstad from 1673-1693 and had his residence in the nearby Apertin. When the church was later demolished, the owners of Apertin took over responsibility for the chapel. The last person to be buried in it was the Duchess of Gerdten. Above the door of the octagonal whitewashed building there is a chalice, the symbol of the tomb of a priest.

In the cemetery itself there are four bishop‘s graves and the impressive memorial of Mmlle Fahlbeck, who died in 1811.

Actually, it‘s enough for the first day. But there is no place to stay overnight. The next place is about three or four kilometres away on Fryken, the endless lake that I‘m approaching. But first I have to cross the railway line from Kil to Deje, then turn right, finally left, along the lake and... I see only private houses. When the point marked on the map is already behind me, I see two men in a garden. „Yes, you passed a hostel for hikers, but it‘s probably closed. But right in front of you comes another one.“ „B&B Sköne Rum Fryksta,“. I had already seen this name on Google Maps. The owner also advertises the cheaper rooms as a hikers‘ home. I ring the bell, actually get a free room and can take a shower, wash my clothes and then lie on the bed for half an hour. This time of arrival turned out to be very important to me,every evening, as it allows me to relax for the halfan hour and to look back at the events of the day that is coming to an end.

It‘s ten past nine when I sit in the well-kept garden and order a coffee with lots of milk. I‘m pretty tired from that first day, after all it was about twenty-two kilometres. The host tells me that I am staying at a historic place, the first Swedish railway station ever.

So a little later I walk down the stairs to the lower railway track and then on to the shore of the lake. Here I enjoy the sunset and the reflections of the sun in the opposite shore area. And I try to photograph the reflecting clouds in the water. Except for two young girls who have settled down for a chat near the old railway area, I am alone. Also no other is to be seen. Back in the house and really hungry, I quickly prepare a meal in the guest kitchen and ten minutes later have a filling noodle dish. A cup of yoghurt completes the meal.

The first Swedish railway station - The Frykstad-Klarälven Railway

The railway between Fryksta in lower Fryken and Lycks on Klarälven was Sweden‘s first railway. The Frykstabanan followed an 8 km long old transport line and had an odd gauge of 1099 mm. The railway company received a concession on 9 February 1849. On 5 May 1849 the first sod was turned and on 5 September of the same year King Oscar was able to open the railway.

In the beginning horses and oxen were used as draught animals on the rails. From 1856 a steam locomotive was used. At Lyckan‘s cargo dock there was a steamship bridge from where the cargo was transported by steamship to Karlstad and Vänern. Mainly iron and sawmill products were transported, but from 1 July 1856 one concentrated onpassenger transport. Three to six trains ran per day and the economy on the track was good. In the autumn of 1871, however, the railway was dismantled again because too much competition had opened up. A three kilometre long side line from Fryksta to Kil replaced it. A new station house was built at a slightly different location. The 1st locomotive „Fryckstad“ can currently be seen in the Swedish Railway Museum in Gävle.

At the end of the day I sit down in my room with a cup of tea, I write some down in the diary and look at tomorrow‘s route in my GPS device. I realize that I still have a road ahead of me. The paths that lead away from it, unfortunately always end somewhere on the banks of lake Fryken, presumably at holiday homes. But could it also be that my map does not show all the information? Already on the last part here I came past small paths, which I did not find so on the map. And the same applied to small settlement areas with two, three or four houses. I am dissatisfied with the map, but the printed paper map is even more inaccurate. And it is impossible to take more precise maps with you for about seven hundred kilometres of hiking trails.

At first I had thought about watching on the spot for more detailed maps (where would this be?). But today I did not meet a suitable shop, also the petrol station this morning had nothing suitable. What‘s the point? Which hiker comes there and wants to buy a hiking map? And I didn‘t have better chances at the supermarket at all, I knew that from earlier attempts. The only option is to ask the host. Tomorrow at breakfast, which I booked again, I will ask him and hope that he can help me. I saw a flyer with regional hiking trails along lake Fryken in the house. But I don‘t want to walk there completely without advice, because I don‘t quite know where the track ends. There seems to be an inhospitable part of the lake.

When I arrived tonight, everything hurt and I thought I couldn‘t go on tomorrow. Now I can imagine it again. More: I‘m almost looking forward to it again. Maybe about twelve to fourteen kilometres to Nilsby campsite. Well, I‘ll probably torture myself for a few more days, have sore muscles, before things get better and the regularity of the daily routine becomes easier, just the „pilgrim routine“.

Day 4 23.6. Nedre Frykken - 18km to GPS „Campsite“ Hagudden Midsummer Night

It‘s just eight a.m. when I walk over to the breakfast room. I could have saved myself eighty crowns, goes through my mind. It doesn‘t always have to be the big luxury, warns a „parent“ voice in my head. I answer: “It is only the second day, it will not stay that way. It can also be nice, you can enjoy it, not only being on the road, but also that you don‘t have to sleep in a tent and that you take the chance for a nice breakfast.” And so I sit down at a richly set table, classical music sounds in the background and in the adjoining room I see a buffet spread over several smaller tables. Here the drinks, there everything that belongs to muesli and over there bread, cheese, sausage and scrambled eggs with bacon. I‘d like to have a complete breakfast, but I know I won‘t be able to walk then. So I take only a little of everything that attracts me, but I still have a colourful mixture. A woman from the next table must have noticed I‘m not Swedish. “I’m on the way from Stockholm to Norway. I stopped here for an overnight stay on the advice of my friend.”, she says. She has rented a house in Norway for a cousin-nephew meeting and is now looking forward to the encounter and exchange of memories. I can understand this, as I suggested such a meeting myself only a few weeks ago and, because the response was very good, have already begun with first plannings. A rendezvous point is already set.

Again I can take two sandwiches with me. Great. The day‘s off to a good start. At the reckoning I ask my friendly host for a way parallel to the northbound road to Nilsby. Yeah, he means, there‘s a stretch. And he shows me exactly the sheet that I had discovered just before I went to bed last night. I could cross the campsite and go into the woods. The way, he calls it „Frykdalsleden“, (which is not the Frykenleden pilgrim way of Kils) is marked. So I put on the backpack and walk the first two kilometres back to yesterday’s track, then I turn left. And a little later, „my“ turnoff comes. In the GPS I had placed a mark here. Now I walk on a gravel road and come closer to the lake. Here the people have their holiday homes, they squeeze in between everywhere. It‘s Friday, but not all houses are occupied yet. Or is it because it‘s not a holiday yet? I listen to the birds and the soft sound of the wind, the boots crunch on the gravel. Sometimes I can hear the water hit the shore. Finally from the right again a path descends from the road, but the marking points go the left and once again I walk between holiday houses, now approaching a campsite. Here there are several caravans, a few motorhomes and many people. When I leave the place behind me and get to even more holiday homes, I don‘t find the next waymark any more. A path turns right, leads back. That can‘t be true, so I ask my GPS, magnify very strongly and try to recognize a path. I turn left, it looks like an access road to a house, but also as if my way leads along here. There is nobody to be seen, so I walk past the house on the left, am on the driveway now and can‘t find any further. Finally I turn around, knock at the door whether someone is at home. A woman opens the front door and comes towards me. I explain why I‘m on her property and she shows me a narrow trail to follow.

I follow the path, jump over a ditch, meander through the undergrowth and then I‘m back on the track. I don‘t know where I went wrong, though. But what‘s the use of pondering, I‘m trying to be more alert from now on. The path is narrow and arduous to walk. It quickly becomes steep and stony. Small stones and thick boulders make progress difficult. Steep climbs, then down, around trees and up the slope again. On the left hand there is water. I can see that I am walking further up or approaching the water level, but the „path“ never leads to the shore. It would not be of any use anyway, because the forest ends in the water without any transition. No beach, just boulders.

By now it‘s late in the morning. I sweat, the water runs from my forehead over my face, the cap is almost soaking wet, I wipe it over my face again and again, but it‘s like before. Every now and then I drink from the hose. In here in the forest there is no wind and no cool or fresh air from the lake. I just keep going on, around the next bend, up, down, up, down. Again and again I stop and think I‘ll collapse if it doesn‘t stop soon. It doesn‘t stop, but I‘m not breaking down either. It‘s not that easy to break down, I think. That‘s one of my experiences from previous tracks. I used to think so so many times: “now” I really can‘t go on.” And while I am thinking that, I kept walking and walking. These are amazing experiences for someone like me. After all, I have never been particularly athletic, have never practiced endurance sports, I have made these experiences only on the pilgrim paths. Alone, and without me feeling driven or handicapped by others. It‘s a good experience and it‘s behind me, so to speak, when I have the impression like today, that I really can‘t go on any more.

After about an hour, or was it was even longer, the path finally leads very far down, almost to the shore. Now I take the chance, climb down to the water hem and I am lucky. There‘s an area right by the water where I can lay down. I take off my shoes and stockings and put my feet in the water for a moment. I almost get the impression it‘s hissing. Then the feet are cooler and I lie back. Against the fresh wind I put on my jacket and now close my eyes, glide away a little. The breath becomes calmer, my heart no longer beats so wildly. - Suddenly I‘m back. Was I asleep? Or was it just a tiny moment that you call „microsleep“ when driving a car and which can then become very dangerous for the driver? Anyway, it refreshed me no matter how long it was. I don‘t have a wristwatch on, when I need the time, I would have to ask the small mobile phone, but it‘s well secured in the belly pocket somewhere next to me between the stones. It‘s not important, it‘s bright in Scandinavia till late in the evening, so I still have a lot of time.

When I take the GPS and see where I am, I am astonished, but then I am quite satisfied with myself. After all, I have already done about a third of today’s way. But still also two thirds are ahead, which I don‘t like very much. I find out what tracks the map can show me. And then, on a high magnification level, I notice a narrow forest path. It’s about one and a half kilometres ahead and it leads up to the road. I know that this will mean at least thirty more minutes of walking through this chaos, but then there is a path that will lead me out. And I don‘t have to climb and clamber for another two hours on that voluntarily chosen Frykendalsleden. Shortly before I reach the official track, my track already changes into something that looks like a real path, then suddenly there is a car in the way, ready for scrap, hardly imaginable how it could drive here. After all, my way comes. To the left it leads down to the shore, maybe there is a fishing place there, but I follow it to the right up the mountain and half an hour later I am at the road. Whew!!! And now it would be nice to have lunch somewhere.

I follow the asphalt road to the north. On the right I hear high-speed tubes from machines. I saw a small lake there some minutes ago. While I‘m still thinking about what this noise is - chainsaws maybe - the sound suddenly comes closer. Three motocross bikes approach from behind. The drivers are dressed in colourful leather gear and wear special helmets, with an air or dust filter in the mouth area. They look like aliens. They‘re roaring past me, soon disappearing and are quickly out of earshot. When it is quiet again, I find a big rock on the left, I settle down for a break and enjoy the silence of the forest. Once more motorcycles come thundering by and disappear to the front in a cloud of dust. Unfortunately the ants discover me at some point, and I have to end my break prematurely. Another crossing comes but I don‘t go back on the Frykendalsleden. This morning’s track was too strenous for me, and besides, weather seems to turn into rain. When I reach Nilsby, it‘s drizzling. My poncho protects me, but now I don‘t feel like following my own suggestion and taking the more remote route through the village. It seems to end in nothing, the map is very inaccurate there. As I continue to follow the normal country road, a little later I see the end of this track as a narrow path coming out of a small forest. I m sure I did not miss anything, at least not today.

Lake Fryken

Hagudden

About two kilometres further on I turn left and reach Gunnarsby. I don‘t see any of it, at least not a village, at most a few hidden houses. It‘s all gray in gray. My „campground“ is supposed to be near here. I realize: I‘m looking at it right now, but setting up a tent in the rain and then just sitting inside is not what makes me happy, I think. Unfortunately I don’t pass any house that offers B&B. Even from a distance I can see and hear that there‘s something going on in front of me, right on that place where I want to spend the night. Several cars are standing on a lawn, some overtook me recently. And there‘s loud music booming from a moving van. People stand around a booth, they seems to offer something to eat and drink. On “my” place for overnight stay the local summer solstice festival seems to take place. Five years ago I was in Lillehammer. By chance I got into the midsummer celebration, as the weather was nice, everybody celebrated a huge party.

It is ten past five p.m. No one notices me as I walk across the square to the rear end and look for a place for my tent. First, I‘ll make sure that no one will bother. Under the trees I find a sheltered place, unpack my tent and set it up. I even put the protective foil for the floor underneath. As the rain increases, I try to manoeuvre the backpack inside. Difficult enough, but when I want to go inside myself, I realize how tight it gets. It‘s possible, but it‘s not great. Then I leave my stuff behind, cross the square and go to the house where most people stand and talk and drink. Children run around, but other people seem to be dismantling and carrying tables and benches into an outbuilding. In the main building there is a counter where one can buy coffee and lemonade. A cool Fanta is the first thing I buy. Then a coffee with lots of milk. But here, too, it seems to be heading somehow towards the end. Quickly I ask for water, someone fills my bottle.

It‘s Lars who I ask. We start talking, of course in English. When he hears that I come from Germany, he immediately switches to German. He proudly tells me that some relatives live in Northern Germany, in Hamburg, Lübeck, Kiel... In return I report about where I come from, the pilgrimage idea and my previous walks. But I also mention that I am on a pilgrimage path that goes directly through this place, the Frykenleden. He‘s never heard of it. But it occurs to him that he once or twice saw a sign with this clue. On my GPS I show him the route for the coming days. He knows the route, thinks it must an old country road, which hasn‘t been in use for a long time. Then he tells me they would finish the event at 6:00 p.m. They rented the place and the building from the community for that time. The early end has to do with the fact that until a few years ago there had often been bouts of drunkenness and vulgarity and even brawls, so that it was no longer a festival. In the end they decided to end the official celebration of the village in time. But he also admits that probably the young people, those who had the loud music on the trailer, would party here later. And so it happens. Shortly after six the court empties and around half past six I am alone. I‘m standing under the canopy, amazed. That had been completely different five years ago in Lillehammer. There was a nice dance at thee museum area then.

Suddenly I notice the „bandstand“, a covered stage that stands opposite, on the other side, near the shore. I could take over my things and sleep there in the dry and with enough room for everything. Thought, done. A quarter of an hour later I sit on the covered stage with my all my stuff and start to find it comfortable. Looking around I also find two sockets. Now I can recharge my smartphone (called Smarty), which is also my GPS device. Even my older mobile phone, which I carry with me all the time because it can stay in standby for days, i.e. it uses much less power, is recharged immediately.

My smartphone only runs as a GPS device on the go, all other functions are switched off. So it shows me the route and at the same time records the way I‘ve walked. By this I also record the kilometres I have walked, the metres in altitude and a lot of other data that are not so important to me. To be on the safe side I have two power packs with me to recharge my GPS device and telephone if I couldn‘t find a mains socket. In the meantime, it‘s time for me to report my location home. I send my current location to my friend by e-mail. He has exact track records, knows where I want to be, so now he knows where I actually am. Also on the way I want to tell him, if and from where to where I leave my planned route. At the moment I am mostly among people, but already the route over the mountains this morning reminded me once again how important this protection can be. Once you have a rough foot (or a broken one?) and you are happy to call for help. Of course emergency numbers are programmed in. And if the mobil does not work, then on the third day he will start the search for me, on the basis of my previous location reports.

In the meantime I have boiled up my bag of dry food, put in the noodles and let everything boil a little, like on my first two tours on St. Olav Way. Now I can rest and have a meal. During a subsequent tour I even discover a toilet - and a sign that forbids camping in any form. Around eight I hear a car approaching. As I look around the corner I see a group of young people standing behind the stage and then coming in through the „stage entrance“. That‘s when I realize my peace here will end soon. Although they are uncomfortable when they see how I have set myself up here, they have planned the party and want to set it up now. After all, they themselves look again where I could find accommodation. In the end I only find the side canopy of the main building. It looks pretty dry there, though. I can leave my tent at the back wall of the stage, everything else I bring over. Already more cars with young people arrive, music booms - and what do I do? I put the sleeping bag into the bivouac bag, spread out the mattress and crawl fully clothed into the sleeping bag. And since it‘s only nine o‘clock and despite the drizzle still quite bright, I can‘t sleep. But I don‘t really want to mingle with those young people either. So I listen to my own music so loud that the surrounding music doesn‘t penetrate to me anymore. If the weather wasn‘t so bad, I could explore the area, but I‘m a bit listless and tired - and I feel a little sorry for myself at the moment because I couldn‘t find a better place to stay. Should I have just asked Lars earlier?

I must have fallen asleep when I suddenly see people in my immediate vicinity. I get up and call them. The two young men are shocked to hear my voice and disappear like lightning towards the party. Maybe they wanted to pee somewhere in the bushes? Before falling asleep, I had been thinking about the incident in Berlin, where young men had set a homeless person on fire while sleeping in his bag and he could not get out or not quickly enough. Even though I‘m sure that something like this wouldn‘t happen here, the idea still gnaws at me - because of the party and the alcohol consumption associated with it.

Around 11 p.m. some people approach again, I sat up, it is still bright enough to see everything. Two of them have the typical floral wreath on their heads that many smaller and larger girls and young women had on their heads earlier. It‘s just Midsummer Night‘s Eve. The three of them talk to me, but I have to take out my headphones before I understand what they want to know: why I‘m here, where I come from, what I‘m going to do. After having learned enough, they invite me to participate in the game on the other side of the house. At first I hesitate, but it is also quite boring in my sleeping bag when others have fun nearby, and above all the rain has stopped in the meantime.

So I go along, join one party and soon I hit hit the ball and run around the pitch like in baseball. Promptly I slip out on the wet grass, rapple up, fall again and still arrive in the second corner in time. My crew is applauding. At the next ball I reach the starting field again. Later I have a conversation with two of the young men. It is about the past, also about Hitler. I think because they notice that I come from Germany. One seems to have a certain sympathy for him. The other one‘s not so good at the Germans. Mozer‘s his name. Mozer’s grandfather came as a young man (because of the Germans) from the Netherlands to Sweden.

We‘ll have a beer. Around half past one the rain sets in again and the young people move over to the stage, where the music has become louder. And because I can‘t talk there any more, I get back in my sleeping bag. With headphones in my ears, I try to sleep again. I‘m falling asleep somehow. In between, I hear angry talks, shouting. Is there going to be a fight? But then I sleep again.