From Rovaniemi, Finland there are basically two routes north, the eastern that skirts the Russian border and enters Norway near Karasjok and the western road, the E-8, which follows the river marking much of the Swedish border. This is a road originally used by sleds in winter to connect southern Baltic Finland with the Ocean at Tromso, Norway. During the war, Germany constructed an all-season motor road and this is still the backbone of Finish transport. It carries a lot of vacationers pulling trailers or driving motorhomes (caravans) as well as long-distance trucks, but has frequent gas stops with restaurants serving “relatively inexpensive” Scandinavian fare from a buffet table— as long as you remember to eat before 3:00 PM.

I chose this route on the recommendation of an Estonian motorcyclist and turned off at Palojpensuu to go through Enontekio on a “national” rather than “European Union” road. Generally, motorcyclists in Europe try to avoid any road marked “E”, although I found overtaking trucks and RV’s to be quite easy on the long sweeping curves of the Finnish plateau. Enontekio and the route into Norway via the Kautokeino “old postal road” took me through predominantly Sami country. Here the indigenous people speak their own language and maintain many of their ethnic traditions, including tepee building. Another of these is herding reindeer, which are raised for meat as well as domestic (or perhaps “touristic”) work. 

Reindeer and European moose (about half the size of North American moose) wander along the side of the road and can be encountered over the rise of a hill or around a curve, much to the chagrin of the touring motorcyclists. Fortunately, they’re not “darty” like deer and tend to just meander and thoughtfully observe the passing scenery. Nevertheless, an encounter could alter one’s travel plans.

A  rainy mist of day had me rent a hut (hytte) for the night at the Arctic Motel and Camping outside of Kautokeino about 80 km into Norway. The hut was tight but had bunks for two which I used to dry my gear. It also had a hotplate and refrigerator, but no water. At that point, it was perfect.

It is about a 150 km ride to Alta on road 93, and after what seemed like three days of northeastern Minnesota, I was ready for a change. Lakes and pine forests are wonderful, but I was ready for the curves of Norway’s famous coastal region. As one leaves the plateau and descends to the sea, the road passes through a magnificent gorge with waterfalls and steep rock faces. I could see mountains!

I was looking forward to visiting the Alta Museum and its ancient petroglyphs. It’s about a 90 minute hike to view all the stone reliefs and rock paintings depicting arctic life 6,000 years ago. The museum itself exhibits Sami culture and the history of the Finnmark region. This was a truly unforgettable experience. But the surprise of Alta was the Cathedral of the Northern Lights. Clad in titanium sheets, it seems to soar skyward and shimmer against the sky much as the aurora borealis does in the night.

An early arrival got me a nice grassy spot at the Alta River Camp on the edge of town and the next morning, in the cold mist, I launched for Nordkap, the northern most point in Europe. Although I had passed some arctic areas already where the trees were stunted or absent, I was surprised at the tempering effect of the ocean on the surrounding ecology. Not quite forested, it is not until one gets into the hillier interior of the Porsanger peninsula that there is the feel of really being at the top of the world. The end of the road is a rocky outcropping where the sun never drops below the horizon from mid-May to the end of July. It had been a sacrificial site for the Sami and also of interest to early geophysicists who studied polar magnetism.

By the time I reached Nordkap, I was cold and damp from the mist. It was windy and the reindeer were content to watch me ride through the clouds. I didn’t stay long! The four-hour ride back to Alta took me again through a number of tunnels with their rough-hewn rock interiors. I got to  thinking of reindeer steak. Sunday night meant the supermarket was closed but a convenience store had a big bag of frozen sliced reindeer “steak.” I was the envy of the campground kitchen sautéing Rudolph with some onions, tomatoes and peppers and creating a reindeer stew over rice. An expensive can of local beer made it all haute cuisine.