Rullestad – Simlebu – Ramnanuten – Rullestad
Rullestad Camping is the perfect place to rest while traveling. Not only you can stay for a night or two with your own caravan, or spend some time in a tent. It is worth stopping even for a moment, because the place is truly picturesque. Located right next to the E134 road that crosses Norway from east to west, on Lake Rullestadvatned, into which waterfalls flow spectacularly down a steep slope rising straight from the water surface. Rullestad is just a few kilometers away from one of the most beautiful waterfalls in Norway, the Langfoss Waterfall, which is over 600 meters high. Finally, this is where you can start hike on one of few available trails. Some of them start right at the campsite, others a bit further, in the nearby Rullestad gorge. This is where the erosion cauldrons that I had the opportunity to admire a few years ago are located.
This time, however, I wanted to take a completely different route. It’s been on my mind for some time now and it’s finally time to put this plan into action. My route was to run from the gorge along the trail marked by DNT (Norwegian Tourist Association) to the Simlebu, the DNT cabin. Then heading west towards the Langfoss waterfall, I was to turn north and take the E134 road on the western side of Lake Rullestdvatnet. An additional option was to climb the Ramnanuten peak (847 m above sea level), which was located on the last section of the route. The whole route was over twenty kilometers long and it seemed that it would take me a large part of the day to complete it.
Traditionally, I set off early in the morning and after about an hour’s drive I was already in Rullestad. A lot has changed here since my last visit. I noticed, for example, signs informing about paid parking for parking longer than 2 hours. This discouraged me from leaving the car here and I drove further towards the gorge. Just behind the narrow bridge over the devilishly rushing river, the trail to Simlebu begins and there is room for two or three cars at most. I had this entire space to myself. I left the car and started up the hill on foot. The path, like every DNT trail, was perfectly marked. Walking among the trees, I enjoyed the morning sun shining through the branches. The forest path was crossed by a dense network of roots winding in all directions. Despite constantly trudging uphill, I was in a good mood.
Finally I reached a plateau where the trees were sparse and I could see more of the landscape around me. Many peaks were still covered in snow. Soon I reached the first cabins and a cross in the trail. Mine continued straight and soon I came across a small waterfall and a bridge over a wildly flowing stream. At the next intersection of trails, I turned west, crossed another bridge and came across the first snowfield on the route. I managed to get around them and get back on the path. In the distance I could already see the roof of the Simlebu shelter. However, to get there I had to cross another patch of snow. Fearing that the half-melted snow might not support my weight and that I would fall into a hole, this time I went around this white patch, and had to make my way through some bushes. Finally, I stood back on the path and Simlebu came into view. The cabin run by DNT consists of two buildings located by the lake. Both were not locked, but from the information on the doors I learned that people who had not booked accommodation in advance were asked not to use the cottages. This was due to the restrictions imposed by the coronavirus. I respected the anonymous DNT employee’s request and took a break on a bench outside. The sun was pleasantly warm and, as a precaution, I greased the exposed parts with sunscreen.
I was already about six or seven kilometers in my legs and I felt that. After a break I got up from the bench, put my backpack on my shoulders and started walking.
The first problem occurred a few minutes later. The next snow field I faced seemed to be one of many that crossed the plateau as far as the eye could see. The trail seemed to stretch under the snow, emerging somewhere further and disappearing again into another snowdrift. I couldn’t get around this field and the fear of falling into some invisible hole made me abandon further travel and turn back. I saw some tracks in the snow. They definitely belonged to animals. Sheep were probably passing here, because I noticed several of them near the cabin. I didn’t know how much such a sheep could weigh, but it was far from the weight of an adult human. Nevertheless, I decided to try.
The over twenty-degree heat and abundant rivers flowing down the slopes from melted snow did not make the surface of the snowfield as soft as butter. On the contrary. The snow supported my weight, and I never sank deeper than the width of my shoe sole. I crossed to the other side and when it was time to enter the next snow, I walked more confidently.
Ultimately, my trail that day took me through several dozen similar snowfields, still at this altitude, despite the fact that we were already in the second half of June. The mounds of stones I saw in the distance made it easier to find the path when it disappeared under the white mounds. Later I also came across someone’s footprints, left on the trail a day or two earlier.
The route seemed endless. The heat was starting to bother me. The sun, which I had initially welcomed with such joy, now became my enemy. Each time I walked through the snow, it irritated my eyes. The straps of my backpack were digging painfully into my shoulders. From time to time I encountered more sheep that seemed completely at home in the mountain environment. I wondered how their breeders collect them later, when they are so scattered in the mountainous terrain.
Finally, I reached the place where, according to the map on my phone, the trail was supposed to cross and I could start descending towards Rullestad. I was quite tired, but not enough to give up climbing to the top of Ramnanuten. The last time I was there, I was enchanted by the view from its slope of the Langfoss waterfall and the waters of Åkrafjord stretching west. Getting to the top would only take a moment, as it was actually right next to the path.
They say being overzealous doesn’t pay, and I’ve just found it out. I had to confuse where I should start climbing Ramnanuten and, as a result, I had an additional loop of going through bushes and steep slopes. Only then did I realize that the summit wasn’t here yet. I descended into the valley, finding the path I had followed a few years ago after reaching the summit, and continued my march north. I passed shepherds’ houses and another group of sheep. I crossed a pass covered with big stones and behind the next hill I saw a place where I could climb the mountain quite easily.
The climb took a few minutes but I reached the place I wanted to visit. The view of the fjord and the huge cascades of flowing water was phenomenal. I sat on a bare rock and watched in awe for a good few minutes.
I finally got myself together and moved on. This place overlooking Langfoss is not at the very top. You can’t even see Åkrafjord from the top of Ramnanuten, so you can unknowingly miss it when you’re up there. And you only need two or three minutes of walking west to take such photos. I reached the top and then down the steep slope. I found a path and stuck to it, knowing it would lead me to Rullestad.
Over time, my knees reacted with pain on almost every step. While the ascent and subsequent march on more or less flat terrain did not pose any problems, the descent down the steep forest path was a real ordeal. I groaned with every step and felt my pace slowing so rapidly that if I were to race against a lame turtle, I would fail. It took me ages to get to the bottom, to the lake shore, but I finally made it. All I had to do was walk along the asphalt sidewalk along the E134 road to the Rullestad campsite and then through the gorge to the car parked behind the bridge. On flat, level ground, my knees coped much better and I soon reached my destination. All that was left was to get back home.
