Pete Scullion makes the sunrise count on this Norwegian tour.

WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHY PETE SCULLION

The harsh sound of a phone vibrating against hardwood jolted me awake; the sting of the quarter to five start very much present as a feeling in my eyes. It was less than five hours since we’d navigated from sea level, through the sunset and the moonlit darkness, on our way to a hut to be up again at dawn. This was me very much in my element – far too little sleep having hauled a bike to somewhere ridiculous to ride. Luckily, I was in good company. While adventures to mountain huts in the dying light and dawn raids are nothing new, this one would come with a twist… a very icy twist at that. I snuck a cursory glance out of the window in the roof, my chosen sleeping spot to avoid waking the others should the clouds be in full effect. The bright moon had long since gone beyond the horizon so I could see only stars, now growing pale against the imminent sun. Exactly what we’d come to experience.

Our digs for the night were one of the many fantastic state-owned huts spread around the Norwegian mountains. Holmaskjaer has one dog-friendly hut, the other being not so.

We were in the middle of three giant glaciers that make up the Folgefonna glacier. Søndre (Southern) Folgefonna, is the third largest glacier on mainland Norway and a sizeable piece of ice to see under the light of the moon and even more impressive turned gold by morning sun. Our plan was to set off back to sea level from the hut at dawn. What would follow would be a reverse of what we’d ascended just a few hours earlier – 1,600m back to the seashore by way of swathes of ice, bedrock ground smooth by the glacier, and erratics that had been dumped as the ice crept back up the mountain.