Fat Viking race

Fat Viking race

If you don't know what to do with those dark winter evenings, I have a good suggestion. Signing up for a winter race requires so many new skills, so much new knowledge, and some new equipment, so you sit night after night, hour after hour, in front of the computer researching, reaching out to people who have experience, and going out and trying things out.

The difference between running a regular mountain bike race or bikepacking race and running a winter race is huge. First and foremost, you have to be able to take care of yourself. You have to avoid situations where you end up on the edge, because accidents tend to accelerate very quickly in extreme cold. And of course, you have to have a good big toolbox of knowledge to be able to handle it if something does happen, so that you don't end up in danger of your life. 

All these elements appeal to me. That you actually have to think about and master something. That's why I signed up for the race in Geilo. Before the race, the race director Nina also arranges a three-day camp where you can learn or improve techniques in winter running. I signed up for that too.

It was a great pleasure to meet the others who had also signed up for the camp. A good motley bunch with different motives and qualifications. But all in good spirits and eager to go. 

The 3 days the camp lasted, alternated between teaching inside and test trips out in the countryside around Geilo. 

It was the first time I had really crunchy snow under my tires. And I was completely hooked on cycling around a snowy landscape. It can be something completely different from anything else I've tried. I've both skied a lot and cycled a lot, but the combination of the two things was completely magical.

When we got to the race day itself, there were 30-50 of us fat bikers lined up at the finish line in the dark of the morning. This meant that when the morning light began to brighten the horizon, we had already climbed up the mountain itself. It was unbelievably beautiful to cycle through the snow while the morning light colored the entire sky around me.

I tried to give it my best shot and ride the race as fast as I could. No doubt my bike was at the heavy end of the field, but nevertheless it went well. I was happy with the progress.

Halfway through the course, which was a loop, we came to a lake, which marked the turning point. It started to get windy before I hit the big open lake, and I feared the worst. But it turned out that as I rode clear of the trees and down onto the frozen surface of the lake, I would have a tailwind. I have to admit that it was one of the most beautiful moments I have ever experienced on a bike, hammering across the frozen lake, with a strong tailwind, while the snow blew around me, and a few trees emerged as silhouettes in the white landscape. I shouted “Look at me!!!” as loud as I could, while tears of joy rolled down my cheeks. It was sublime.

Back on land, the tears of joy were hard to contain for the rest of the day. The peak of my energy was used up. It was a long way home. And I had to go back up the mountain, up some pretty tough climbs. I pushed hard and tried to remember my nutrition. But my body didn't feel like eating, so I had to force every bite down.

In my pogies, which are giant mittens mounted on the handlebars, I had lots of frost-proof snacks, cut into small pieces so I could just pour them into the drawer, and it definitely saved my run that I got some energy after all.

Just as I saw the sunrise in the morning, I also got to see the sunset at the end of the day, and it was completely dark when I finally rolled over the finish line. Completely exhausted. Completely and utterly. But with a huge smile on my face, from the great experience. Luckily, there was both beer and food, and good conversations with the other racers who came in before me.

I ended up with 10th place and I was quite happy with that, in my first winter race ever, on the heaviest bike in the field.