DISCLAIMER: The Norwegian government has for decades been working to keep the trolls a secret, and denying their existence. Their motives are unclear, and all efforts to document their workings have failed – except the documentary Trollhunter. Be advised, that talking about trolls can bring you into their spotlight.
It had been raining heavily and mother sun was barely breaking, but it was slowly winning ground over the clouds. The rain came in intervals, but you could feel the warmth shining through. The reports quickly spread from the beautiful coastal village Stamsund , throughout the land of Lofoten. There had been a helicopter “rescuing a tourist” that had lost their way on the hiking trail. At least, that was the official story…
More likely, there had been a Troll incident. As I rose from the seat of my car, I could smell trouble brewing. And, it was not the coffee kind (that smell was in the car, from my fresh brew). It had been a long time since Lofoten’s Trolls had stirred, so I knew it was time. As I sipped the golden drops of my hot java, I scouted for trouble. I grabbed my monkii bars Minimalist and entered the the trail to Steinetinden.
To secure the area, I would walk all the way to the skiing slopes (seen in the background as the cleared path in the forest), then make my way deeper into the woods tracking them. Although the sun had broken the clouds, and darkness was pulling back, there was an odor of chaos lurking.
The path showed clear tracks of the trolls, and as I walked briskly by the lake I could not help being struck by the beauty that surrounded me. After my move to Lofoten, I really fell in love with the idea of training in nature, getting back to my roots as proud Viking, and as a Troll Hunter. No gym could feel like this, with it´s strict rules of movement and cage-like qualities.
The plan was to secure Stamsundheia (- heia refers to the mountains of Stamsund), and hopefully find the hiding places of the Trolls before sundown, only breaking for short monkii action.
I first did a couple of squats with a boulder that was laying around, before continuing up the trail. As I ascended the mountainside, you could feel how warm it was for being November in the North. But you don´t complain! There had been enough days of storm and rain to humble any man into appreciation of the day given.
I looked down, and horror struck. Fallen trees and footprints of trolls where clear on the ground. I hurried, but the trail got weaker as I moved upwards. It was time for a break. A tree in the clearing had lost its leaves waiting for winter, and was the perfect spot for a monkii session. After setting up the Minimalists, I first scanned the area - this is very important. Trolls could be everywhere even though there is too much sunlight for a direct attack.
I was disappointed to have lost the trail, but I gained in adventure. As I continued my hike to the top of the mountain, scouting, but enjoying the view, a calm came to me. There where no Trolls here to see. They must have moved on.
I could see no signs of my prey, and chose to take a rest. I could feel my heart beating hard after the steep hill, making me feel alive. Maybe my job was done? It was time to push for home.
As I descended, the sky played the most beautiful song it could, and a rainbow came darting across, almost pointing a clear path.
It felt like a sign, showing where they where hiding. A sheepdog can only rest when the flock is safe , so I pushed on…