Norway Report Part 2

Day 7: June 30th

Anniversary edition.

On our 1 year anniversary we rode our bikes for 60 km up and down steeper hills than people encounter on roller coasters, only to make it 18 km toward our final destination.  It was today that I realized how similar cycle path sounds to psychopath, and we are equally as crazy for following it.

We consumed a whole large pizza faster than five bros with lip piercings and backwards hats.

To top it all off, we slept on the side of the road in a marsh where we thought it was raining until we realized it was actually the sound of a thousand tinz biting flies crashing into our tent like meteorites that then rise to preform the feat over and over again ad infintim.

We made love in a private location for the first time in four attempts.

However exciting that aspect was, it could not overcome the stuffyness of our still sweat soaked tent and our overworked quadrecepts.

In the end it was a disempassioned act equal to that of our riding enthusiasm.

Regardless, substantial romance.

Day 8:  July 1st

The grenade that blew the camels back to pieces… pieces so fine and so totally obliterated that any attempt to reconstruct the camel would be a sign of certain insanity.

The North Sea Cycle Route has broken our trust, abandoned our friendship, and led us astray for the last (we hope) time.

All our work is fractional.  We pour sweat, actual tears, and untold ghastly amounts of calories toward kilometers that in total map distance amount to a childs portion.

After zigzagging both topographically and altitudally for 60 km around the main traffic route we made it onlz 18 km closer to Lillisand.  Actually that was yesterday, but today felt no different.

We camped at the worst campsite of the trip, some overpriced family owned RV resort in a state of constant raucus pandemonium due to children excited by exponentially and unfathomably more children.

Old people leisurely watched the affair, there appathy redisent signs of decay… a calm slipping away from reality into “conversations” where words are exchanged by the hour hand.

We firmly resolved to take a bus the remaining 80 km.

Goodnight aching body.

Day 9:  July 2nd

A day of rest and hamburgers.

We boarded the bus to Kristiansand in high spirits, no thanks to anti-social goth girls.

I don’t know what Norway’s religion was before Christianity came around, but from what I have seen it was ripe for the taking by a religion that glorifies the shepard.  There are sheep everywhere.

Kristiansand loves it’s cannons.  The second largest cannon in the world resides here.  100 percent bronze boner town.

Thats all I got.

We need to find this family reunion pronto.