In truth, many things are once in a lifetime experiences. But it often takes something dramatic, something truly special, to really get our attention and make us realize that this moment, this exact experience, will never happen again. Bike touring has a way of eliciting that wonder and gratitude, as it has the past couple of days. After all, how often do you get to ride on forested gravel roads along a deep fjord, through abandoned rail tunnels and up a steep one lane road to a magical mountain plateau with a string of pristine alpine lakes, waterfalls, lush forests and along the way eat wild raspberries and then stumble upon a farm stand with three generations of women selling the sweetest strawberries imaginable from their garden?

We leave Bergen in light rain, following bike paths and small country roads into the mountains. The weather here is constantly changing and we quickly get used to putting on and taking off our rain coats. By the end of the day, we will have been soaked many times. But it’s summer and the sun breaks through the clouds periodically to dry us out and keep us warm. We follow small country roads through quaint villages with well maintained homes painted in dark reds and ochres, often with cheerful planters of flowers to celebrate summer and stores of carefully stacked firewood waiting for winter.

We follow an old rail line along a fjord that takes us down a very sporty single track trail to the entry to a dark abandoned train tunnel. There seems to be no other route. We go for it, walking through the cold dark with just our bike lights to illuminate the chiseled rock walls. After ten minutes we get nervous but keep going (what’s the alternative?) and eventually see the exit.

Our destination for the night is Hamlagrøvatnet, an alpine lake in the mountains east of Bergen. The road up is a single lane that hugs the rock walls overlooking a river ravine and winds through forests of deep green. It’s steep and we inch along in our small chainrings.

We reach the high mountain valley after a few hours, hungry and legs weary and minutes later pass a cheerful cyclist fixing a flat. He has thinning white hair, silver rimmed glasses and a sparkle in his eye. Ahead, he tells us, are the best strawberries you will ever have in your life. He was right. In the middle of nowhere, a strawberry patch, a farmstand, a few farm houses and a small stone church. We buy strawberries, kale and kohlrabi, all of which we devour.

We cycle a bit further and clamber down a wooded embankment to a rocky beach right on the shore of Hamlagrøvatnet, clearing a small area of stones to set up our tent. Other than a few cabins in the far distance, the area is uninhabited but for a few grazing sheep. We dive into the chilly water, immediately revitalized as we look up at patches of snow on the mountains above us. It rains in and off all night, a light patter on our tent.

The following morning it drizzles as we descend towards the town of Voss, passing signs for cross country ski trails and ski jumps. In Voss we are ravenous and find a bakery that is just opening and enjoy egg and salmon sandwiches on fresh whole grain bread. Why is bread in Europe so much better?

We begin to climb again towards Gudvangen, and spend a few hours on a busy two lane highway in heavy rain. The drivers are respectful but it’s physically and mentally taxing. On bike tours you get the highs and lows. We eventually get back onto a quiet and beautiful road that we take up a smaller mountain pass, stopping to eat delicious wild raspberries on the side of the road, and down a ridiculous series of hairpin turns that descend 1,000 feet in less than a mile into the river valley below. We ride into Gudvangen Camping, where a rustic cabin is waiting for us. A hot shower in the bath house and we are revived.