Grong - Selnes

Out of the grip of the E6, into the promise of the 17 – but first the 401, a road like a fitness program with scenic distraction.

Hill after hill like excuses for getting up, the wind comes head-on like a bad-tempered border guard.

And then: 26 degrees. In the middle of Norway. Not far from the Arctic Circle. It sounds like a glacier, but it feels like a vacation in a sauna. The asphalt is sticky, the sun is burning, the landscape remains stoically beautiful, as if to say, "I was here before you could ride a bike."

Near Selnes, you come across Folda Fjord – rugged, fragmented, barely navigable, but full of character. Not a postcard idyll with cruise ships, but a fjord in its original state: narrow, deep, wild, crisscrossed by tributaries that eat into the land like ancient tales. In the past, people here lived off fishing; today, it's primarily about perseverance.

Route 17 winds along the water like a poem – and you begin to believe it was truly made for cyclists. At least for those who aren't afraid of headwinds, heat, and beauty.