I Want To Climb Trolltunga

1100 metres above sea level, jutting out 700 metres above lake Ringedalsvatnet in Western Norway…is Trolltunga. I want to go there…and caper. Here is why.

For one thing, its name means Troll’s Tongue in Norwegian. If that isn’t enough to make you want to ascend it, you’re in the wrong place and there is already a warrant out for you immediate en-awesomeing.

For another thing, it looks like THIS:

Trolltunga

For a third and final thing (because all good things come in threes: Crème Eggs, Billy Goats Gruff and rhyming triplets, for example), Trolltunga is in an area called Handanger. That’s right, Hard Anger. Or Hard Danger, depending on how you want to interpret it and whether or not you can spell. Either way – BADASS!

Providing you don’t spend all day on the tongue, prancing around like a mad man (thus defeating the very point of climbing Trolltunga, in my opinion), the hike up and down takes around 8-10 hours and ascends roughly 900 metres through the mountains.

That’s a full working day of hiking up a kickass mountain to overlook an even more kickass lake from one of the most kickass rocks with undoubtedly the most kickass name. Compare that to a day in the office and let me know which ass comes up the rosier…

Naturally, I’d much rather climb the sheer rock face but, at this rate, I’m not going to be ready to do that until I’m old enough to make climbing ropes out of my own beard.

Still, it’s an ambition! Now, to see if I can work Norway into my plans…

Adventuring Skill: Climbing

Climbing at Reading Climbing Centre Whether it be scaling a rock face to find a vantage point, descending into an abyss whilst hunting for treasure, or escaping up a tree or whilst being pursued by a wild boar, climbing is an invaluable skill for the freelance adventurer.

Luckily for me, there are plenty of climbing walls within an hour’s drive of my house. Also luckily for me, I know a wonderful man who knows how to climb and has agree to help teach me – Daz, of Caveman Press.

Unluckily for me, I am soon to turn 26, have limited experience of climbing and am not exactly built for the sport. Down at the climbing wall, you’ll struggle to find anybody who isn’t a middle aged veteran of 30 years, an obsessed young person who started at the age of 4, or a hollow-boned teenager who has yet to learn their physical limitations. And all of them are…wiry.

Climbing at Reading Climbing Centre
Yet the strength involved in this sport/skill is simply out of this world. Good climbers can, by PINCHING the tiniest protrusion (often with a single knuckle on just a few fingers), suspend themselves from the ground, whilst gracefully bringing their feet above their head and extending their other arm to snatch at another, equally invisible ‘hold’.

If I hadn’t seen people doing these things with my own eyes, I would be convinced that such acts are the stuff of myth and legend, or achievable by a select few. Yet feats like these seem relatively commonplace down in Reading, which leads me to conclude that soon I too will be gifted with monkey-like agility.

Until then, I shall bumble thusly: