Helsingborg Sweden, my port of entry, was blanketed in a grey fog and I stood on the deck watching other ferries plying the waters as we approached shore. The town had a feeling of a place that people transit rather than remain and reside - the border town feel. After picking up some kroner I rode north the next morning. I could have taken this picture a thousand times, really. The yellowing birches, the barnyard red Swedish home, the dull grey sky. Maybe it is not all that interesting, but it is how I will always remember Sweden. I´ve seen this scene thousands of times in my travels through Sweden. It is really strange how uniformly colored the houses are in the Swedish countryside, but trust me, they are nearly all this color and this exact hue, without variation. From Helsingborg I rode five days up the Western Swedish coast heading toward Oslo, Norway. I camped wild in the woods most of the time, and have been getting better at picking out sites that will yield a better night of sleep (i.e. no more sites with European stinkbugs, or sites next to territorial dogs). (10-17-04)

The mossy and crumbling remains of a Swedish castle built in 1309. I ate lunch here and then carried on. Speaking of eating, after nearly four months of trusty service, my flame-throwing stove kicked the bucket as I was about to prepare the millionth meal of pasta. But don´t shed one tear - I´m not. I'm actually glad it died. Heck, I´ll probably go back and dance on its grave. I was always having to haul it all over creation, and it took up a good deal of volume, added weight and made everything in that pannier smell like gasoline. So now it´s a new menu - like cold beans and brocolli wrapped in a corn tortilla in the evening. It is great, seriously, and now people will not see strange flames leaping from the woods in the evening when I am preparing meals. (10-18-04)

Sweden is all-natural nature. This is a picture of the western fjords, again with those barnyard red houses, grey skies and yellowing trees. I stopped at a grocery store nearby and heard the sing song cadence of the Swedish chef´s language being spoken all around me, taking me back to days of the Muppet Show. Whatever happened to quality children's programming anyway? (10-19-04)

Not too far across the border into Norway I passed through Halden, which was a town dominated by a large timber processing plant set in a depression and ringed by hills that were only slightly obscured by the steam and smoke coming from the plant. Bruce Springsteen would have felt at home there. I was handling my fourth currency in a couple of weeks and it showed when I handed over some stray Swedish kroner to pay for some Norweigan groceries. But no worries, the error was quickly righted. (10-20-04)

So I made it to Oslo, Norway on the fifth day after hitting Swedish soil and it was great to take a shower after some extended camping. Being clean is great. Norway, the Saudi Arabia of Europe with its massive oil reserves, is really beautiful. The ride from the border to Oslo felt like a 1960´s movie set in Vermont in the autumn, with flaming yellow clusters of birches, beeches and oaks, brisk fall air, and country roads scented with chimney smoke and only the occasional passing car. The night before Oslo I slept in the Norweigan Wood(s), carpeted with a soft moss, and was only awoken once to the sound of a quiet whirring, which reminded me of the dangers of alien abduction as a lone camper. I hear they look for those types of situations. No witnesses. But this is a picture of downtown Oslo, which was a little chilly at night. Overall, the weather has been warmer than I expected, so I am hoping that trend continues when I head further north. (10-21-04)

Arriving in Oslo was a little strange. Specifically, on the outskirts of town I saw a cross-country skier in winter spandex with poles and skis, skiing along at a good clip - only he was skiing on the sidewalk with no snow. I saw that there were wheels on his skis so they could roll on any flat surface. As I got close to the city center more and more of these concrete skiers occupied the bike paths, some travelling in packs with captains setting the pace, and other rogue skiers speeding by themselves. With this bit of Nordic wierdness I finally felt like I had arrived in Scandanavia. Oslo is actually good urban skiing territory because of all the hills that surround the city. This is a picture of the harbor lit up at night from a hill that also houses the city castle. (10-21-04)

Oslo´s national gallery has a really great Munch collection, including ´The Scream´ but my favorite work of his was the ´Dance of Life´, partially pictured here. (10-21-04)

After Oslo it was another five day journey eastward to the next Scandanavian capital, Stockholm. This took me through Swedish lake land, past one mirror flat lake after another. And that is not an exaggeration - I have never seen bodies of water that large lie so still. This is one of many lakes that I passed (again with the red Swedish house), this time in the evening as I was scouting out a camping site.

The Swedish lake land area also included wetlands, with the wetland grasses also turning fall colors and the dark swampy water again reflecting everything on its still surface. I made the second tire replacement on the way (they seem to last a little over 4000 km each), and I am now in Stockholm, taking a couple of days of rest from riding.