Motorcycle Explorer October 2014 Issue 2 | Page 50

Paul Holroyd
Following a good night’s sleep and a right
back into town I quickly find the E6,
signposted for Narvik, which with a quick
calculation lies just another 150 miles north,
this means another 600 miles to Nordkapp.
My bike twitches with even the slightest blip
of the throttle, I am tense and hardly dare
lean even at 20mph leaving me veering
toward the white line on right hand bends
and almost mounting the verge when the
road bears left. After just a short distance in
what seems like ages I leave the industrial
suburbs of Fauske and enter a flat land where
farms sit back from the road, I trundle on at
20 sometimes 30mph now around 150 miles
into the arctic circle.
All of my senses are telling me to turn
around but I continue on, hoping that as the
day warms things will improve. Eventually
rounding a bend on a road where the trees
are white with frost and the mist is hanging
with both feet trailing I see blue flashing
lights. A HGV has slid across the carriageway
some time earlier leaving the steel barriers
bent like fork prongs, I trundle past and give
a nervous wave to the four policemen who
just stand there shaking their heads at me in
disbelief.
" I am torn between my
mission and self-
preservation "
A little further and I stop for a reality check, I
am torn between my mission and self-
preservation and refer to the map for
answers that nobody can give me. Growing
up near the sea I know for a fact that the salt
air makes for an ice free environment, that
could be the answer, it could keep the
adventure going after all the meaning of
adventure is to have an exciting experience
with an uncertain outcome, to undertake a
bold or risky undertaking, I have had my fill
of those elements to be honest. The Atlantic
highway sounds like a plan and it is the
national tourist route number 17, bonus!
Heading back south still at a snail’s pace I pull
over for cars to slowly pass, where the ice is
particularly bad I revert to my hazard lights
and grit my teeth, I really don’t like it but I
can’t stay in Fauske for ever or even until
spring. Eventually the sun hits the road and
normal riding resumes and by lunch time I
have all but forgotten about the morning, the
only reminder being my aching jaw from
hours of gritting my teeth.
The road twists and turns, rises then
plummets back to sea level in ice free bliss, I
am making good progress and the panoramic
views of the Atlantic ocean come and go as I
once again head south and then east into
Sweden for the long ride home.
My first photo diary two-wheels-to “the
Sahara” can be purchased from amazon or
our website and a long overdue second book
two-wheels-to “the Arctic can be purchased
from amazon or our website www.two-