It has become a tradition for us to go on a small canoe adventure on the lakes of Eastern Norway every year. A few days away from schedules and screens.
Not because we are skilled outdoors people, or own expensive gear or have mastered efficient packing. Absolutely not.
We just stuff our car with fishing rods, swimsuits, children, the dog, food and snacks (enough to survive a couple of months probably), tents and hammocks and a tiny optimism that this year we might finally learn how to paddle properly.
There are many nice options just an hour or two from Oslo. Places like Vansjø, Losby and Fjorda make it wonderfully easy to disappear for the weekend. Just by the water you can rent canoes and life jackets (you should prebook! And you might need to bring life jackets to get correct sizes for the kids). Go for a few hours or stay out for some days.
After a mildly humiliating negotiation about seating arrangements, fairness, sibling politics, and who absolutely could not sit with whom, we finally got the children onboard. And bags. And stuff. Lots of it. Fishing rods sticking awkwardly into the air.
We push the canoes out onto the lake, and I could of course say it was all peaceful and serene. That we drifted silently across the lakes listening only to paddles gently slicing through the water.
But it is not really how it sounded.
“Why are you paddling so slowly?”
“Paddle together!”
“Not like that!”
A voice suddenly carries across from the other canoe:
“You have the dog?”
The pause.
Back at the shoreline stood our little furball, perfectly patient, looking both hopeful and deeply confused about why her people had simply paddled away without her.
Yes. We start again..
Paddles hit the water out of sync with loud splashes. The canoe zigzagging across the lake.
But nature has a particular ability to improve the children’s mood. In our family, we call it the 100-meter rule.
You just have to endure the first stretch.
The complaints, the boredom, the dramatic unfairness of outdoor life.
And then, the mood begins to change without them noticing. They are looking for fish. And someone saw one. A really, really big one. It`s true.
We spot a beaver lodge and some trees marked by beaver teeth. As our chaos moves by small and larger holms, they wave proudly at people that have already settled in. Cause you are definitely not alone out here.
Smoke rising from small campfires, canoes pulled onto the rocks. Norway is full of people heading outdoors.
But there is enough space for everyone to find a place that feels entirely their own. Staying the night on a private little island is what I call absolute luxury.
Bark boats are made and sent drifting out. Someone starts whittling a piece of wood into something nobody entirely understands yet. There is fishing. Swimming. There is lots of running and throwing rocks into the water.
Eventually, we manage to bring out the tacos. It is Friday, after all. And in Norway, that practically means taco night by law.
During the night, the hammocks sway in the wind. Not at all uncomfortable. The breeze barely seems worth thinking about at all.
Not until we turn the canoes around and start heading home. For a while it is not a problem. But as we paddle around one of the holms and out from the shelter of the cove, the wind hits us properly for the first time.
I cannot get the canoe forward at all. It is so uncomfortable to realize you no longer control the canoe. (Slightly irritating, too, cause it kind of indicates the children may have had a point earlier during the canoe seating debate about how “some people” apparently do not paddle well enough)
Eventually, my better half has to paddle over and come to our rescue. The second canoe pulls alongside us. The children hold their paddles horizontally between the boats, turning us into a homemade catamaran stable enough to keep moving forward.
It looks ridiculous. But it works.
Wind matters more than you think. And canoes are heavier than they look.
Children are happier outdoors than they claim to be. And there are few things better than falling asleep in a hammock while the wind moves through the trees, knowing the children spent the entire day outdoors without once asking for Wi-Fi.
Just remember the life jackets.
And the dog.
GoBreezing 