Åsnes

Pucker your lips and say "Ohhhsness".  I have always known that Norwegian last names were from their home, family farm.  I have known that but to experience it indelibly imprints it onto/into your mind.  I have wanted to (and now I have) see(n) "Hammersborg", in Oslo.  I have yet to determine the significance.  Magne Åsnes is coming to Seattle in November to exchange with me and this weekend he took me to his family farm to meet his parents.  I will forever be thankful and in his debt.  On the way, we passed (thru)  Molvik, Espeland, Mundal (VP Mondale ceremoniously opened this highway years ago, because his family came from here) and many more familiar family names that I know from home (Ballard)  And of course, last weekend I was at the family home of Terje Storesund, the headmaster of Aurdalslia Skole, and that is called Storesund.  This has got to be, in a steady stream of "highlights", a HIGHLIGHT.  No offense to any other activity or experience prior.  Get ready for this - it will be long.  I took 500 pictures - you may see 5 or 10 here.  Ås means a hill and nes means a point that sticks out into the water.  So, Åsnes means a "hill on a point".  And that is just where Magne's family farm is on the Dalsfjord, just north of Bergen and Songefjord.

Magne picked me up at 8:30 Saturday morning to take the scenic route to drive to Gudvangen, on Noroyfjord, to catch a ferry.  The first part of the trip took us past parts of Hardanger Fjord.  Two special things were happening.  Just like the STP (Seattle to Portland) yearly bike ride, today was the Bergen to Voss bike ride.  It is ONLY 100 km and Voss is at ONLY about 30 meters above sea level BUT believe me it is like (almost just like) going over Stevens Pass 3 times.  It started at 6 am so I think we had to pass all 1250 bikers.  The roads are NARROW.  By the way, the winner finished in 4 hrs and 12 minutes!  We missed the ferry by 5 minutes and could see it leaving the fjord.  The best way I could compare or describe Gudvangen is a well kept, neat Whittier, Alaska.  No one lives there in the winter but it is a very busy tourist sea port in the summer.  Spectacular waterfalls (fosse) all around.   While we were waiting for the next ferry, (hang gliders-parachutists) jumped from the cliffs 500 meters above our heads.  It was a little strange because we were quite literally the only ones in this small hamlet.  The gift shop and restaurant, gas station and grocery store were all open and there were hundreds of cars parked and maybe 30 - 40 tourist busses parked there but no - one around.  The second "special" thing happening - and it explains no one around - the Queen Sonja was ceremoniously "opening" the fjord for the season and there was a ceremony naming the Songefjord a "WORLD HERITAGE" site, by UNESCO and the United Nations.  Also named are the oldest section of the city of Bergen, Yellowstone National Park and the Gallopagos Islands.  Magne and I had a nice sunny (oh - I haven't mentioned yet the weather.  This is one of the hottest days of the year.  Not a cloud in the sky.  Probably 25 degrees......oh Celsius.....in the 80's f.  hot!)  walk around Gunnlaven.  There is a pretty pedestrian bridge over a river, a neat little viking village with a beautiful boat under construction ( I should say a lot more about this), a boat launch and small marina, a helicopter, a few kayakers, picnic tables, etc.  We had a very nice bbq ribs lunch and eventually (2+ hours later) the ferry came back for us.  It was a very nice wait but we missed the Queen in her royal yacht.  The ferry ride takes you on the deepest and narrowest of fjords - just a few hundred feet wide in one place and 3000 feet deep in places.  the fjord walls climb straight up with waterfall after waterfall.  The boat was full (I thought or it seemed) but we made a normally unscheduled stop where the ceremony was held and picked up a few hundred more passengers - including a brass band that immediately set up and played most of the rest of the way).  We arrived a little before 6pm at Kaypanger - literally means "place you go in your boat to buy things).  Narrow roads past many lakes and fjords.  Hard for me to distinguish one from the other.  Beautiful (is an understatement)!  Glaciers and more.  Just before we got to the farm, we came upon a small school or wooden boat restoration site.  There were several old and new wooden, classic boats and a lot of wood for construction.  One old boat was built in (remember) Lofallstrand and one about to be launched had a very old traditional style.  See the pictures!

We arrived at the Åsnes family farm at almost 9pm.  Magne's grandfather had a ski factory that is still operating.  I may have some Åsnes skis - or you may, also!  I met Magne's parents and sister - Jon, Alma & Turid.  We were later than scheduled but after introductions and news we had a nice dinner of chicken and rice.  Magne showed me pictures of tours his musical group had taken.  It was fun to see pictures of places back home and a few people I know.  One picture of the Norwegian Male Chorus had Captain Dale Peterson, clearly in the front row.  He also had recently been to St Petersburg, so I looked at those, too.  The next morning early - after a nice breakfast - Turid, her husband, Magne & I hiked to her hutter or "hut".  This is/was a "real" working seter.  That is the place girls went each day to tend sheep and milk the cows (in the summer).  Remember, I/we visited a replica at Fana on the way to the "Showboat" ride the first week.  But, while those may have been real, we drove  to them, this was still in its original place, with no road and Magne's mother actually walked up there (I asked how many times but who counts?????????).  She was hired by Magne's grandfather to do that work and that is how she must have met Magne's dad.  It is about 4 km up the hill, at a steep angle.  It is about at 300 meters in elevation.  While I sweat off about two liters of perspiration, I was told Alma used to knit as she climbed. (imagine that!  Is that multi-tasking, or what?  No Ipod.)   She was probably also carrying a milk can.  In like manner, Turid carried a backpack with drinks for us.  The seter or hut is in a picturesque meadow overlooking the entrance to the fjord, to the west.  To the east, other farms can be seen, inland and up the fjord are waterfalls visible.  To the north and south are climbable mountain peaks that are often hiked on Sundays by locals.  A typical Norwegian hikes to the top of a mountain every Sunday.  These peaks are comparable to Mount Si or Little Si or Cougar Mountain hikes.  We enjoyed the view, the sunshine, some coffee and "soft" drink, the company and conversation and talked with a great-aunt who was overnighting with her grandson in a neighboring hut.  These are very nice cabins, now with a tv and gas stove.  Did I say there was a nice view.  That is another understatement.   Across the valley we could often hear a cuckoo.  These are very shy birds.  Rarely seen.  I imagine they are at least as big as a raven - I may have seen one in a zoo.  It was so still and quiet that when this bird "cuckoo" ed, it was if it there was a clock inside the hut but the bird was actually hundreds of meters away.  I tried to video tape the sound; we will see how sensitive my equipment is.  Too soon, it was time to come down.  Alma had fixed a very special mid-dag meal of rømegrøt.  Oh, it was wonderful, with alder smoked lamb and topped off with lefse.  Not just any lefse, but a local recipe.  I REALLY needed a nap but it was getting late and we had many more kilometers to go, and more to see, on the way home to Bergen. 

We stopped at a Nazi bunker and gun emplacement guarding the entrance to the fjord.  Nearby a friend of Magne was building a new, waterfront "hut".  We smile when we call some of these "castles" huts or hutteren.  Also, nearby in Krossesund, there is a 3 meter high, 1000 year old stone cross marking the place where King Håkon thanked God for making an entrance to the fjord, through the mountains.  Later, Magne showed me a recently discovered place where a 1000 years ago they mined and made a special stone wheat millstone or grindstone.  There were many round stones with a hole in the middle for that purpose.  They had found a ship, near Bergen, that sank full of these grindstones.  Another ferry ride and a "few" more tunnels and we were back in Bergen.  Wow, I can only count the 600 pictures I took and imagine that I probably took an average of one for every kilometer we drove.  It was, shall I say, spectacular (I need some new, more expressive, words).

Takk Skal Du Ha!