The following narrative details events and my experiences after I left my native Norway December 31, 1939, for an intended 4-5 month trip to sea. I was 20 years old.

I had become unemployed due to decreased hydroelectric power generating capability. Less than usual snowfall the previous winter caused inadequate subsequent runoff into the reservoirs. I could not abide being idle. But because of World War II I did not return to Norway until 1971.

The idea to write the story developed on my third visit to Norway. Challenged by two younger brothers, Claus, and Charles, we were skiing over a mountain plateau named "Hardanger Vidda" on a four and half day trip, about 60 miles, during the Easter week vacation of 1980; (I was 61). The ‘Vidda’, (wide area), may be perhaps 10,000 square miles varying about 3000 to 5000 above sea level. Hardanger is the name of the county, with the Hardanger Fjord. The Vidda is generally inaccessible in the winter until about Easter.

The Norwegian Mountain Climbing Society, with snowmobiles and skiers, mark and delineate usable ski trails by placing parts of branches in the snow, so one may travel between the different cabins maintained by the society as well as some privately owned. Supper and breakfast is generally served, cafeteria style. Lunch may be packed and Thermos filled, for an additional fee. Travel time between the different cabins, on foot in summer on marked trails, or on skis at Easter time averages to 6 to 8 hours.

The accommodations include using one’s own sleeping bag and because all comers are accepted it may become both crowded and cramped. For example, the first night my brother Claus and I were quartered in one building while the youngest brother Charles stayed in an adjoining cabin. Being the oldest we had been allotted a bunk each. There were 11 people in about a room and a half as we crept into our sleeping bags. But when I woke up in the morning 5 more people had been found room for, on the floor. Always the early riser, unzipping my sleeping bag to get dressed, I discovered three young girls among them. Quickly zipping up the bag I proceeded to get dressed inside the bag, sleeping in my underwear. The young girls took it all in stride laughing good-naturedly.

The washing and grooming facilities generally were equally sparse. At times one heated a pail of water when available, or one waited patiently till a bucket of snow melted on the wood burning stove.

But that is moving ahead...