The other side of the race: Bright Midnight

Words and photographs by Rupert Hartley.

“You have to come to Tolga”. The words of Justinas Leveika, director of the Bright Midnight. I couldn’t say no. The distance of around 1000km appealed, and it was quietly on the bucket list after seeing the inaugural event last year. Remote Norway; near-endless daylight; My first experience of a ‘mixed-terrain’ ultra.

I wanted to show to myself I had learned from my previous ultra experience. Rest better. Be more efficient moving at all other times. Enjoy the adventure.

I was unsure how this approach would land with taking photographs. I want to make photos, but I want to ride well and efficiently. The two are slightly at logger-heads.

I didn’t want to stop the whole time. (Stopping to take photos is always a good excuse for a rest).

As it turned out my camera spent a lot of time inside a dry bag due to the heavy rain. When space and weight is at a premium, carrying a camera is a commitment, but it’s one I am happy to make. I remember reading Annie Leibowitz talking about how if you want to be about making photographs, you have to be ok carrying a camera. Her younger self had been reluctant to carry one up Mt Fuji. So my X100 was in the side pouch of my cargo vest.

One of the things about trying to combine riding an ultra with making photos is the conditions. You can’t sit around and wait for nice light. It just is what it is. It is my experience, how I saw it. And I quite like that. Some people might have passed these places in gorgeous golden light, some in pouring rain. There’s an honesty to the record of my journey I like about that. Maybe the photos are less dramatic, but they are what I saw when I was there.

So here are some no-context memories:

To be honest, it was a miracle I finished. I had some serious mechanical drama. Somehow torching both my wheels (how and why would need a whole other post).

I knew I had a problem on the second evening, a broken spoke. I managed to tru my wheel (with some help) and nursed it a further rainy 4 hours to Bietostolen, where I took a hotel. I noticed a hole had appeared in the rim around the spoke. I late-night called my friend George (a mechanic and ultra racer), he asked me some logical questions around how long it had stayed tru for, and gave me the confidence that I could try and gently nurse it the 85km the next morning to a town where I’d be closer to a bike shop. (A choice you only even consider in an ultra).

In the end I made it 75km. As soon as we hit gravel more spokes went, and it was over. I walked 11km through the woods, had a little cry to myself, and rang a couple of people for moral support. Norway is an expensive country and even if by some miracle I could source wheels, I just couldn’t see how I’d financially be able to justify it. My body and mind were good, so I was really down.

I sat in a gas station licking my wounds, and when the bike shop opened at 9am, I rang up in hope more than expectation. The owner cheerfully told me ‘I have a lot of wheels in my shop’. I found a taxi and travelled 13km to the next town and the shop.

On arrival I was welcomed with coffee and a lot of intrigue around the race. Jorn, the owner, was a 25 time veteran of the famous Lillihammer-Oslo 500km time trial. He wanted me to finish. He found me some wheels and offered them to me for less than I had paid for a hotel the night before. I couldn’t believe I could continue. I rode the 13km back to the course on cloud 9, and then set off on route again. The whole episode probably setting me back 6 hours.

The route was mostly remote, and honestly this happened in one of the only places where a solution was possible. I feel very lucky for that. Resolving this issue and continuing is what I’ll really take away from this trip.

Before starting I had set myself a v rough goal of finishing with a time which started with ‘3 days’ and something. In the end I took 3 days and 20 hours, and with my mechanical I was very pleased with this. But finishing was my only real goal. To be present in the experience and enjoy it for the adventure it is. As always the people you meet are as important as anything. The race village atmosphere created by Justinas and his team (family) was so welcoming and wonderful.

I finished shortly before 0630, in the pouring rain having ridden straight since my wheel issue the previous morning. There was no crowd. A moment of silence for myself. Race winner Alex McCormack appeared and made me a cup of tea. Justinas made me an omelette. It was perfect.