Anita and I have just returned from three weeks vacation in Norway. On our way north to the Lofoten islands in our trusty Fiat rental car we camped in many beautiful spots. Passing all these mountains rising right out of the sea I had been nagging her for a while to stop for a quick "bumm-zack" run up at least one of them. At the campground in Straumen she finally gave in. So I turned towards the closest, highest peak and decided that would be the one. Not knowing where to find the trail, or whether there would even be one, we followed animal tracks for a while and eventually converged on the proper sign posted hiking trail. We had already set up camp for the night but at this time of year this far north the sun never really sets, so we could just keep going irrespective of the time. Love it! Anita eventually turned around when the terrain became too steep and slippery from mud. I continued and ended up having the summit entirely to myself. Right next to the summit cairn someone had draped two women's panties. I wonder if there are some Norwegian summit rituals I should know about?
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