By Laura Jade
Sitting at home one Saturday night, mindlessly scrolling my Explore feed, my eyes and thumb paused on a photo—an aerial drone shot of a group of tiny figures floating through an unbelievably epic landscape. It didn’t look real. There were immense cliffs dotted with waterfalls, rainbows, misty clouds clinging to sheer rock, and patches of bright green grass framing a wide stretch of sparkling, deep blue water.
It looked straight out of a fantasy novel, a backdrop suitable for tales of dragons, unicorns, fairies, and elves. But actually, these were real people in a real place. Introducing the most incredible adventure I’ve ever experienced…
Within that hour, I thoroughly explored their Instagram, YouTube, and website, signed up for their waiting list, and had my dream set: The Sogneford Expedition, six days of paddling and camping through the world’s longest and deepest navigable fjord.
In August 2019, I got an email that a space opened, and I knew I had to go. I cleared my schedule and took my gear list to REI. Prepping for the trip brought a giddy excitement to my daily life. Over the next few weeks, I practiced my pack and worked to reduce it to only ultra-lightweight and minimal essentials. I didn’t know if I was fit enough or brave enough to tackle this adventure alone, but regardless of any of that, I left for this solo trip with only 19 lbs of gear in a waterproof backpack.
Previous trips had all been tattoo-related, especially in 2019, when I had the busiest year of my career. The most conventions, the most booked out I’d ever been; I felt burnout creeping in, and as I sat on that plane to Norway, feelings of guilt for leaving behind the shop, my clients, and work swept over me. But it was the best thing I could have done physically, psychologically, and spiritually for myself and my work at that time. I returned from this trip with a new sense of self, confidence, and clarity that immediately benefited my life and art.
They were right. Those first few strokes felt shaky, but the fjords embraced us on that first turn away from the launch site. Five thousand feet of cliff rise above you while five thousand feet of water rests below you, and you are smack dab in the middle with everything you need to survive strapped to your board. The impact of feeling so raw in such a vast scope is life-changing. Nothing is between you and this powerful nature except your Gortex raincoat. Paddling barefoot felt the most comfortable, and your toes and ankles get a maximum effort workout, wiggling desperately to help you stay balanced before you learn to relax and trust the board has got you.
The beauty is extreme, and the weather is unpredictable, but you can’t have rainbows without the rain. We had lots of rain, and the rainbows were popping off. As the Norweigan saying goes, “There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing.”
We joked that the passing boats full of sightseeing tourists probably took pity on us, looking like a bunch of drowned rats in raingear, but really, we took pity on them as we felt like the lucky ones, fully immersed in this wild, untouched wilderness.
As the days went on, the boundaries between nature and self blurred, and there was a cathartic surrender to the present moment and the ebb and flow of life itself. Daily tasks of collecting and boiling water, setting up and breaking down the camp, gathering firewood, and showering in the raging waterfalls brought things back to the simplicity and beauty of existence in its purest form.
Even this trip’s uncomfortable parts become what you most fondly remember and are the most proud of, as well as the stories you retell to your friends and family—poop shovel—enough said. You’ll have to discover that specific combination of pride and vulnerability for yourself.
But, as you drift off to sleep in your tiny tent, dwarfed by the majesty surrounding you, it hits. All those tasks, to-do lists, and goal-setting back home feel much less important; the hustle, worry, uncertainty, and anxiety loosen their grip on you. You realize you haven’t thought about how much you weigh or how much money is in your account in quite some time. You haven’t checked your email or texts or seen the news. You’re starting to feel connected and supported by nature and begin to trust that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, in the right place at the right time.
When I returned from this trip, I couldn’t really describe it to anyone. I felt floaty and calm. I had a renewed gratitude for hot showers and a newfound disgust for American chocolate. I felt more clarity about what I wanted in life and more confident in myself, and I knew one thing for certain: I had to go back.
In June 2022, after two years of postponing due to lockdowns and one week following a scary medical diagnosis, I went again—this time with Jeff, his daughter Chelsea, our studio manager Casey, and her husband, Josh. I was so thankful for this trip in a different way; my mind was overwhelmed, fearing what was to come, but I tried to let it go and was able to enjoy this incredibly fun, rowdy group on this one-of-a-kind adventure. And getting to watch them watch it was even better. Amidst one of the most stressful times of my life, I could find again that place of trust and connection in this incredibly special place. Deep in the Norweigan Fjords, just as in normal daily life, there is joy and pain, wanted and unwanted, success and setbacks, but it’s all worth it, and it’s all okay.
@supnorway
Everybody wants happiness,
nobody wants pain,
but you can’t have a rainbow without the rain.
-anonymous
