Falejde to Öie
About the end of the month of May, and beneath cloudless skies—there had been no rain to speak of for the past three weeks—I left Falejde to take this charming drive by "kariol" and sure-footed pony.
After a lingering farewell glance at the beautiful fjord view, as seen from the little inn here, we commenced our journey. In the still and warm morning air one could hear the drowsy hum of bees and the clear notes of a song-bird. Sheep and cattle browsed on the hilly slopes, their bells tinkling as they grazed on grass still wet with dew.
Uphill we went, through odoriferous pine-woods, the roadside being fringed by an abundance of wild-strawberry in full flower, and among moss-grown boulders cranberry and whinberry bushes showed themselves in great profusion. Here and there are large patches of bell-heather and ling, which still retain, though now faded, their last year's bloom.
A snow-plough by the roadside has not yet been removed, showing how near we are to the past season, and how closely connected with it is this warm sunny day of May. The pine forest we are still passing through becomes denser now, and the morning light is as twilight in this thick glade.
Our attention is suddenly drawn to a lively squirrel, who swings rapidly from branch to branch; a pine marten is in full pursuit. In the excitement of the chase they are both quite unobservant of passers-by, and across the trees which overhang the road they spring, and it is not long before the sound from the forest depths of the thin piping squeak of the hunted squirrel tells of tragedy.
Between the tall trunks of the pine-trees we obtain occasional peeps of blue fjord and snow-topped mountain forms as we drive along.
Having now crossed the watershed, we gradually descend, and patches of cultivated land begin to appear on the wide valley sides. Passing several farms ("gaard") we now see below us an extensive lake, Hornindalsvand, along whose rocky shore we drive; and presently we arrive at Grodaas, the little inn and hamlet being prettily situated in a tree-fringed bay on the lake's eastern margin. Surrounding this broad and beautiful lake are high mountains of picturesque form.
Large farmsteads are here, and well-cultivated land, and an air of prosperity pervades the place. Continuing our drive along the wide valley, Hornindal, we gradually ascend through more open country. The snow-clad mountain-tops are nearer to us now, and on both sides their craggy forms appear in many a quaint-shaped peak. Farther on, near "Gaard" Kjelstadli, we are at a height of about 1,400 feet above sea-level. That apparently inaccessible pinnacle in front of us is Horndalsrokken ("rokken")—the distaff. Here we approach a magnificent mountain region, and, descending the steep hilly road to where it divides at "Gaard" Tryggestad—one branch going to Hellesylt—we enter that deep and gloomy valley, the Nordangsdal. This narrow gorge-like valley is closely hemmed in by high, majestic, and sharp-peaked mountains. Below "Gaard" Fibelstad and Hougen, as we descend, this huge chasm-like valley contracts and becomes so narrow that there is barely room in some places for the rocky torrent and the road between the perpendicular mountain buttresses.
We now drive alongside five very narrow lakes in succession; these completely fill up the bottom of the gorge. At several places on the road we are compelled to dismount, and walk over huge, deep snow-patches. These are the remains of winter avalanches which have not yet melted; they stretch across the road, and form natural bridges of hard snow over the torrent which gurgles below. Emerging from this deep and terrible gorge, we gradually descend, passing on the way the sequestered hamlet of Skylstad.