Great rides: The longest days

It’s 2.30am and I’m cycling past snow-capped mountains, fjords and waterfalls in the Vefsna Regional Park in Norway’s Scandes mountains.

The midsummer sun is high in the night sky, casting shadows as I ride. I’m 550km into the 1,200km Midnight Sun Randonnée, feeling so small in the vast Arctic wilderness. The sense of space and freedom is amazing.

The Midnight Sun Randonnée is a self-supported audax with a 90-hour time limit. It takes place over the summer solstice, starting in Umeå, a university town 700km north of Stockholm.

The route runs north-west across the Scandinavian Peninsula to the Norwegian Sea, then to its most northerly point above the Arctic Circle before returning to the start.

There are checkpoints at roughly 100km intervals to rest, eat and sleep. As with any audax, it’s not a race. If you finish within the 90-hour time limit, you have succeeded.

The Midnight Sun differs from events like Paris-Brest-Paris and London-Edinburgh-London because of its remote roads and its lack of darkness. The food is different, too: salmon, moose, reindeer, pasta buffets, Arctic char soup and Scandinavian desserts.

Self-sufficient cycling

The day before the event started there was a 40-mile coffee ride. People from all over the world were taking part. I met experienced cyclists Brook, Chris and Jay from the USA, Alex from Wales and cold-water swimmer Archie from Scotland.

Damien from Poland was a YouTuber and keen to capture footage. Tatjana and Pranas from Lithuania were using the ride to celebrate their 20th wedding anniversary.

Everyone had a different approach to the ride. Some wanted to ride it as fast and as light as possible; some wanted to take their time like an accelerated cycle tour; and some had travelled with partners who were offering support. My plan was simple: to enjoy the scenery, ride with others and make steady progress.

I’ve ridden many long audax rides before but none in such remote terrain. I knew that shops and shelter would be scarce, so I planned carefully, carrying food, clothes and tools.

I was using a GPS SPOT tracker, which meant friends and family would know where I was. I could also send them an “Everything is OK” text message via satellite at the press of a button, even where there was no phone signal.

Northern light

The ride started at sunset, just after 11pm on the Sunday evening. After a celebratory countdown, we were off: the group of 91 starters headed out of Umeå and into the night, following the Ume River. Excited chatter gave way to quieter conversation and the familiar sound of gears changing and the hum of tyres on tarmac.

At midnight the sky was still clear and the road ahead was lit by gentle nocturnal twilight. The air was full of the sweet and earthy smell of dense conifer forest.

Cycling in 24-hour daylight felt strange at first because there was no transition between day and night. The Norwegian writer Knut Hamsun once said: “Night was coming on again; the sun just dipped into the sea and rose again, red, refreshed, as if it had been down to drink.”

It felt surreal, although constant daylight meant we could always enjoy the scenery, and no bike lights were needed.

On the second morning the route took us past Lake Røssvatnet, the second-largest lake in Norway. We rode through Mo i Rana, the biggest town on the ride, and onwards along the E6 towards the Arctic Circle.

I rode the next section solo and, as I climbed, the landscape changed: large patches of snow were visible all around me. I’d heard stories of tourist traffic and trucks making the conditions difficult. My experience on the long climb was the opposite, with people waving and blowing their horns to cheer me on.

As the landscape became more barren, I knew I was getting closer to the Arctic Circle line. Over several miles the Arctic Circle visitors’ centre started to come into view. As I got closer I felt emotional.

I had wanted to cross this line ever since seeing a cycling slideshow as a teenager. I rode into the car park, right up to the UFO-shaped structure proudly bearing the inscription: 66º 33' N. I’d crossed the Arctic Circle and felt so proud. With snow patches behind me, I video-called home.

Where reindeer roam

The route was on roads similar to B roads in the UK. There were several tunnels that we cycled through. After the Arctic Circle we rode along Norwegian County Road 77, which had a 3km-long tunnel, Kjernfjellstunneln. Here the route bypassed the tunnel, although that wasn’t an easy diversion as the 3km climb averaged 7%. Waterfalls surrounded us as we ascended.

That night we stopped at Lake Vuoggatjålmejaure near Arjeplog. There were no beds available in the cabins so I slept under a table in the restaurant alongside others. After so many miles I slept soundly.

The following morning riding conditions were perfect, with a light tailwind, smooth roads and rolling hills. But later that day the weather changed and it was soon raining hard – not light drizzle but persistent and cold Arctic rain. The checkpoint at Sorsele was a welcome sight to get warm and dry.

Almost all checkpoints had a sauna, heated by a large stove in the corner and useful for drying wet gear. I was prepared for the heat but not the multiple pairs of blinking eyes looking back at me through the steam as I walked into the blanket of heat.

At one checkpoint, a rider had left his shoes too close to the stove and they’d melted, which meant he couldn’t finish the event. My clothes dried well, however, and within 45 minutes I was back on the road.

That evening was one of the best moments of the ride. The sun dipped towards the horizon, casting red shadows across the sky and land. As I rode towards Vormsele, I could see animals on the side of the road. It wasn’t one reindeer but a herd of 10 or so, grazing in the evening sunshine.

Rolling home

With less than 100km to ride, I sent my final “Everything is OK” text message home, knowing the end was in sight. The last stage was fast as it was downhill and there was a blustery tailwind. The scenery changed once again, from conifer forests to the Vindelälven river valley to civilisation.

As I rode into Umeå, I could see familiar buildings, cars, people and traffic lights. I’d been away for a few days but it felt like years. I’d ridden across the Arctic Circle and through the Arctic wilderness. Mission accomplished.

The Midnight Sun Randonnée is a bike ride through two countries but it was so much more than that for me. It was achieving a childhood dream. It was wilderness, adventure and friendship. It was the sense of freedom and joy, cycling beneath a sun that did not set.