Distance: 36.1km (79.2km).
We are speaking of the first day in September and it has been chilly at night and so it is in the morning too, a car drives past with frost on the roof. It makes me wondering about what kind of temperatures await me later on the pilgrimage, especially over Dovrefjell.
Frostsmoke over the Langebrutjernet lake in the morning.
Today the journey goes into Ringerike and I have agreed with my cousin who lives in Hønefoss to stay there this night. He will pick me up at Norderhov. No uncertainty about where I will go to today then in other words.
Olavskilde (a water source given its name after a visit by St. Olav according to the tales) at Krokskogen.
Across Krokskogen, the pilgrim route follows Den Gamle Bergenske Kongevegen (the Old Bergen Royal Road), with some detours into the woods. Royal roads were the national roads in past times, and were paid for by the state, this was completed as a road around 1805. I have walked this forest road several times before, most recently in my project to walk the old ways through the forests outside Oslo earlier this year. At that time, I found by chance the Midtskogsteinen stone that the pilgrim path passes by, but now there are no waymarks telling me where the trail leaves the forest road and I walk relentlessly past the whole detour on the road.
Bruløkkene is still the nicest place on the old royal road across Krokskogen (den Gamle Bergenske Kongevegen).
The same thing applies to where the route will go down to a water source, Olavskilde (named by St. Olav), I am unable to find any waymarks and where the path leaves the road. So instead, I continue on the forest road and goes down to the source from another path, marked with a signpost. It is uncertain whether the route has been rerouted or whether it is just poorly marked over Kroka Skog (the old name of Krokskogen).
View over Ringerike and Steinsfjorden from the descent down Krokkleiva.
I have passed here so many times that it is symptomatic that the most exciting thing about the walk is whether the waymarks are good enough or not, whether I can clearly see where the pilgrim path leaves the forest track. It clearly is not, although the walk itself is nice.
Krokskogen from the bridge over Kroksund.
For every 175th meter, a small concrete column appears with a number on it, which marks the joints on the telegraph cable between Oslo and Bergen that were put to use in 1935. It is almost like a marker that keeps track of how far you have left to go.
Giraffe and waymark.
Krokkleiva marks the end of Krokskogen and it is perhaps good that the steep slope comes so early in the journey, as the walk down can be hard on the knees and sore feet. For pilgrims who have not traveled in this area before, it is recommended to take the time to hike out to Kongens Utsikt (the King’s View) from Kleivstua before starting the descent down Krokkleiva, the view is more than worth the extra kilometers.
Old farms next to the pilgrim path.
At Sundvolden Hotel I get the stamp in my pilgrim passport and from there I am on unknown ground in terms of hiking. Towards Hønefoss, I have always travelled by bus or car, now I will go on foot. If you look at the map and where the trail goes, today's route gives a feeling of moving away from the destination in the north instead of towards it, where it goes in the direction down to Bønsnes and Røyse on the north side of Tyrifjorden.
Path through acres on the way towards Bønsnes.
The hike from Vik is mostly boring, especially when you fall out of the count of the number of lampposts along the road to Svensrud. Maybe so boring that you consider taking the shortcut over Trongmoen to Svingerud afterwards, then you can cut about 10km of the hike, for those who are interested in it. I am glad I resist the temptation, because it gets better immediately after Svensrud. Then the landscape opens up more to a pleasant cultural landscape and the lampposts are quickly forgotten.
The road to Bønsnes with a cultural landscape on both sides.
Here down towards Bønsnes, I walk through fields and acres, past farms with the water spreaders out, on short and pleasant passages between the acres, with patterns around me created by what is cultivated. Small rural roads. I step towards Bønsnes church as perhaps St. Olav did in his childhood, he is said to have grown up here. The church, though, probably did not exist here then and he probably stepped around for completely different reasons than me. Back and forth yields the same distance, because if you have gone out to Bønsnes, you have to go the same way back again.
From the interior of Bønsnes church.
If you do not know the opening hours, you often meet closed doors when you come to a church. If you are lucky, the door is open. Especially in pandemic times, when the churches also operate with slightly erratic opening hours and rules for visits, but now the small church is open. I am lucky, there is an electrician visiting, not to pray to god, but to check the alarm system. One from the parish is also present and I get a small introduction about the church.
Bønsnes church.
It is a beautiful small stone church. Inside, the ceiling is painted blue, with clouds drifting across the sky. The church that stands here now is believed to have been built somewhere between 1066 and 1093, but there was a church from the Middle Ages here before. Which according to legend was built by St. Olav, as a thank for coming alive from capsizing in the Tyrifjord. From that church, only a Madonna sculpture (ca. 1250) in wood and a crucifix (15th century) remain.
A small furry bull calf friend.
Old waymark.
Here the pilgrim stamp is in a mailbox outside, so you can get a stamp if the church is locked or not. On the pilgrimage bench next to it, I can prepare lunch and a cup of hot coffee in the shade of the church.
Pleasant path through Røyse.
Hot day and it is tempting to go to one of the many water spreaders that stand in the fields around me to cool down a bit. The forest over towards Frøyshov offers shade as a replacement and now the feeling of going in the right direction is back. Short distance from the trail at Frøyshov there is an old burial ground. Here you can find up to 24 burial mounds, which allegedly date from Roman times. Built of earth and stone, with a ring of pebbles at the outer edge (foot chain). The burial mounds seem to grow over.
Skomakerstuen pilgrim hostel.
Towards Hole church I pass a pleasant little pilgrim hostel, Skomakerstuen. Here I just take a quick look inside and a short break outside to enjoy the sun. Too early to stop for the day, not to forget that I already have an appointment for accommodation tonight, but if the conditions had been different, I would have liked to stay here.
A tunnel of vegetation almost shaped like a heart.
Passes Hole church that is not an old church, only the stone walls of the nave are left from the church from the 13th century. The stamp for the church is almost the same as for Bønsnes, only with the name of the church different. Will I see more examples of this further up, I wonder? Quite possible.
Hole church.
I have entered the rhythm of the day when the last kilometers are waiting for me. And through the cultural landscape of Ringerike, I walk leisurely through pine woods, alongside fields where the separation between the grains are forming wave patterns, past red hearts on trees and with the sun flashing between the trees. On the low ridges the farms reign. The path meanders through the grass before I come out on a small road that brings me to the end of the road for today, Norderhov.
A walk through pine woods.
A heart in the woods (the trail was not going on the path seen in the picture).
Here I find an old pagan hoof that the current church from 1170 stands on top of. Inside the church I hear the sound of singing. Right next door is the Ringerike museum, but it is closed for the day and with the song from Norderhov church behind me, I walk up to the parking lot above where my cousin Kjetil is waiting for me.
Patterns in the acre.
It must be called luxury on a pilgrimage to be able to spend the night at someone's home. And then it is nice to meet my cousin again, it has been a while since we last met due to the pandemic. Out on the terrace, lasagne is served, and we get time to pick up the thread from the last time we met, as well as talk a little about the pilgrimage route further. Kjetil would like to join and go a little further together with me tomorrow, but the duties call.
Path up towards Bergerhaugen.
The second day of the pilgrimage still gave the feeling of having just started the journey, and so it should be. Oslo is behind me, separated by the deep forests of Kroka Skog. Today's hike offered a pleasant cultural landscape as soon as the steep Krokkleiva was behind me, but I hope to escape the next lamppost count.
Norderhov.
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