What started out as a “simple” motorcycle trip from Stockholm on July 6th, 2025 quickly turned into one of those journeys you know you’ll be talking about for years. Norway did what Norway does best: stunning landscapes, endless rain, unexpected reunions, and those perfectly timed moments that feel almost planned.

I kicked things off riding solo northbound. Pretty early on, reality set in. One night I ended up camping in an open hut, with rain hammering down and darkness closing in. By morning I was absolutely drenched, cold, and tired—but once you’re on the road, there’s something about packing up wet gear and riding on anyway that feels oddly motivating.

On July 7th, I met up with my sister in Mo i Rana. She went there to spent three days riding her own bike on the Arctic Circle Raceway, which is no small feat. Seeing her again up there, after both of us having pushed ourselves in different ways, felt really special.

We set off together on the 10th, each on our own bike but sharing the same direction. Crossing the Arctic Circle meant the obligatory stop for photos and stickers—because if you don’t document it, did it really happen? From there we grabbed food in Bodø before rolling onto the ferry to Moskenes. We pitched our tents on Offersøya just as the rain started pouring again, like it was waiting for us.

The next morning began with a gas station stop to pull on full rain gear. It rained all the way through Øksnes, past Sortland, and honestly… just kept going. Eventually we rolled into Kråkberget, where we were meeting a big part of the family for a three-day reunion. After days of rain and camping, arriving at a cozy cabin—generously paid for by a family member—felt downright luxurious.

When the reunion wrapped up, Senja was next on the plan. We may or may not have pushed the speed limits a bit to catch the ferry, but we made it. On Senja, while camping, we met Ida, who showed up with boiled water and donuts. That small act of kindness hit harder than she probably realized.

The next day didn’t go quite as planned. We tried to catch the ferry at Botnhamn but missed it by minutes and had to turn back through Finnsnes. Along the way, near Heia, we spotted a yellow motorcycle. Turns out it belonged to an old army friend. He invited us to stay at his nearby camping wagon, and despite some initial skepticism, we went along. Best decision ever. We ended up in Slettnes, staying in a proper cabin with a deck, amazing views, and—most importantly—real beds.

Eventually, we rolled into Lakselv, our hometown, and stayed with family for several days. Somewhere in between, we made the trip out to the North Cape. Up there, at the very edge of it all, we ran into Fred—an old friend, cherry on top of the journey.

This trip had everything: rain-soaked misery, laughter, family, and old friends. It reminded me that motorcycle travel isn’t just about the roads or the destinations—it’s about the people you meet and the stories that unfold when things don’t go exactly as planned. And honestly? That’s why I keep coming back to the open road.