Now the snow and ice of the long Arctic winter retreats, the summer midnight sun casts warmth over what is fast becoming a mountain biking nirvana amid the deep fjords of northern Norway. We set sail north from the city of Tromsø to Nygårdstranda, Djupvik and into the 50-mile-long Lyngenfjord, an area famed for winter ski-touring and ice climbing. We were aboard a 48ft Fountain Pajot catamaran, Arctic Aurora, sailing day and night to reach our destinations – it was almost never dark.

This was to be one of those bucket list trips, sailing through the fjords north from the Arctic town of Tromsø, jumping off the boat to ride some rarely touched trails. Rarely touched due to the fact that they are under a lot of snow for the majority of the year!

Straight from the single track and back on the boat. Photo: Andrew Lloyd

Up north

On our flight north, Ed (the man who has put our Norwegian adventure together) and I bump into the third rider on the trip – young native wheelie enthusiast Thomas Klingenberg. Arriving raring to go at Tromsø airport we immediately hit a hitch, as the airline has managed to misplace two out of three of the bikes between Oslo and Tromsø.

Waiting for us at the airport is Ivar, our skipper, who has just returned from an expedition to the polar-bear-inhabited island of Svalbard. He encourages us (me) to commence our journey without the things we needed the most, with the hope that the bikes would catch up soon.

More than a few hours later, Ivar finally points the bow of the Arctic Aurora northwards and we trundle away from the civilisation of Tromsø. Despite it being well into the evening we still have plenty of light as at this time of year (beginning of August) the sun barely drops beneath the horizon for an hour and we sail to our first overnight stop.

We continue north along Ullsfjorden and the mountains of the Lyngen Alps grow bigger, rising almost vertically out of the fjord, their steep cliffs interspersed by glaciers and waterfalls tumbling hundreds of metres. We pass the occasional fishing boat and a large ferry, but are pretty much alone on the fjord.

Ready for another day on the trails. Photo: Andrew Lloyd

As the boat steers itself on auto-pilot, skipper Ivar is cooking up a storm in the galley, all the while regaling us with the kind of stories you’d expect from a man who has been sailing these waters for most of his life.

As a photographer I am having issues with getting myself to bed. The light this far north is stunning and there is something to point the camera at in every direction, but the main problem is knowing that after the sunset I only have to wait a few minutes before the stunning sunrise commences.

Despite telling Ivar I am off to bed, with a knowing look he asks if I am sure I want to do that, ‘the sun will be up very soon’. Thankfully I listen to him and am treated to the first of several beautiful evenings/mornings on the boat.

With all my over-excited photography behaviour we notice that Thomas seems to have disappeared and for a minute we fear he’s toppled overboard, until we peer around the other side of the boat and find him tucked up in his waterproofs curled up asleep on the deck.

The next morning we discover Ivar has stayed up all night in order to catch up on lost time, and, much to our relief, has also arranged for a colleague to drive the very long road way around with the missing bikes. We hastily build them up on the tiny harbourside and get kitted up ready for our first day in the hills.

Skipper (and incredible chef) Ivar at the helm while leaving Tromsø late and down two bikes. Photo: Andrew Lloyd

The first ride of the adventure sees us struggling up one hell of a steep climb on a well-used walking trail above the town of Sørkjosen with its tiny regional airport. As we press on upwards the trail becomes harder and harder to navigate and we end up clambering up ladders next to a waterfall. We decide we have climbed as high as we can so Thomas gives the nearly vertical trail a try, but soon gives up.

Trail shredding

His night on the deck doesn’t seem to have dampened his enthusiasm and once we get back down to the relatively gentle gradients of the lower slopes he lets fly, eyeing up some big natural gaps, with the definite possibility of disappearing into the adjacent ravine. He comes into view at Mach 10, pulls up hard and sails across. As he lands, his wheels drift precariously close to the edge, leaving a massive drift mark along the trail edge.

On the next trail we face a fate far worse than any perilous ravines – clouds of huge, highly determined mosquitoes! Being the photographer, I have to deal with these hungry for blood creatures the most as I unpack and pack my camera bag repeatedly whilst the riders scarper!

Thomas gets his head down for the night outside. Photo: Andrew Lloyd

This trail is near the Norwegian/Finnish border, and follows a snaking line along the lip of a canyon. We ride blindly down the ribbon of a singletrack path, all our concentration focused on the task at hand as we duck beneath branches and throw our bikes into the turns.

For a trail shaped by feet and hooves, the line offers incredible flow, and it’s only when faced with a steep jumble of rocks that we skid to a stop, grinning from ear to ear. There’s a thick mist hanging in the air and a deafening roar from below. We walk to the edge and peer into a ravine. Our guides Georg and Johan explain that this is in fact Europe’s deepest canyon and the monstrous waterfall is the 140m-high Gorzi Falls.

Tied up at Nord-Lenangen. Photo: Andrew Lloyd

Post-ride relaxation

Returning to the boat by way of the dinghy shuttle, we discover Ivar has once again outdone himself in the kitchen. This time bacalao is on the menu – a stew made with salt cod. As we wait for our dinner Thomas decides the best way to get clean is to take a dive off the boat into what turns out to be the freezing water.

No sooner has he hit the dark blue surface than he is scrabbling to get back on deck with a look of horror on his face. Fair play to him, I was going nowhere near it! Lounging in the unexpected luxury of the Arctic Aurora, Ivar recounts tales of altercations with icebergs and polar bears. He tells many stories of adventurers far more daring than ourselves; from ice climbers to ice divers, professional skiers and film crews, the boat has seen a lot of action.

The more we rode in the area the more it became apparent the unbelievable potential for mountain biking that this whole region has, despite being under the snow for much of the year. Georg and Johan have shown us some incredible natural trails and we get the impression we are just scratching the surface.

The first day of trailblazing offered amazing views above Sorkjosen looking across Reisafjorden. Photo: Andrew Lloyd

With a few tweaks to improve impassable sections – bridges over bogs and the like – the riding here could rival anywhere in the world. In parts, this is already being realised, such as in the small fishing village of Skibotn, which hosts an annual singletrack festival. There’s a real mixture of terrain there, from fresh loamy ruts to huge granite slabs.

From the high mountain plateau, we look out across snow-covered peaks of the Lyngen Alps down to Lyngenfjord far below, the Arctic Aurora just a tiny dot in the sea. Thomas and Ed take the lead and we drop in for a descent to sea level.

Threading its way through steep craggy drops and rock rolls, interspersed with flowing but steep loam covered trail, it mellows as we enter the forest. We ride smoothly through sweeping corners thanks to carpets of pine needles and we head back down to the yacht and another delicious meal courtesy of Ivar.

‘Mountains rose straight from the sea – their peaks often dusted with snow, even in the summer’. Photo: Andrew Lloyd

As our final day dawns we are feeling the effects of nearly constant daylight. The midnight sun, with its quickfire sunset-sunrise, is stunning to watch but really does play havoc with your body clock if you are used to living in the more southerly parts of Europe.

The summers are very short this far north, but there is no shortage of time with which to ride – for three months it is light for almost 24 hours. It just depends on how long you can keep yourself awake! We had only scratched the surface of what this place is, and will become.

A true adventure

While we were north of the Arctic Circle in search of epic mountain biking, approaching the trails from the water transformed the experience into something far richer than a conventional riding trip. Each day began and ended aboard the yacht, cruising through the Lyngenfjord as the Lyngen Alps rose straight from the sea, their peaks often dusted with snow, even in summer.

Heading ashore for more riding and exploration. Photo: Andrew Lloyd

We reflected that the journey itself had become part of the adventure. Sailing between remote anchorages and small fishing villages, arriving and departing by boat felt like true exploration; stepping ashore in places with no crowds and just raw, untapped terrain.

After long days riding superb natural and hand-dug singletrack with endless views over the fjords below, returning to the yacht was deeply rewarding. Watching the landscape drift past from the deck, sharing meals and stories as the sun lingered late into the night, made the sailing every bit as memorable as the riding itself.

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