Hamperokken (06.08.2025)
Written by milese (Miles Elvidge)
| Start point | Storslått (65m) |
|---|---|
| Endpoint | Storslått (65m) |
| Characteristic | Hillwalk |
| Duration | 6h 00min |
| Distance | 11.0km |
| Vertical meters | 1,500m |
| GPS |
|
| Ascents | Hamperokken (1,404m) | 06.08.2025 |
|---|---|---|
| Nordvest for Hamperokken (1,164m) | 06.08.2025 | |
| Middagsaksla (1,075m) | 06.08.2025 |
It had rained overnight and in to the morning, but the forecast said the afternoon would be bright and warm, so we held off deciding on a route until the fair weather manifested. At around midday it became clear that today was the day that we'd attempt the iconic Hamperokken.
Back in April, Alice and I went snowshoeing up Stormheimfjellet; this was our first time driving on the E8 alongside Ramfjorden. Completely oblivious to what was round the corner, our first ever glimpse of the towering mountain, glistening in snow and ice took our breath away as we sat and drove in silence. A quick google search revealed that this mountain was in fact a popular summer hike, incompressible to us in the valley, looking up at its near vertical peak then covered in snow. We made the decision then that we'd be back, in summer, to conquer the mountain ourselves.
So here we were, 14:00, 20 degrees and sunny, parked at the parkeringsplass in Storslått, anxiously awaiting the adventure ahead. The trail begins with about 3km of hiking with ~1km of elevation gain up Middagsaksla, a former Ti på topp. This section is well-trodden, weaving at first through woodland and bog for about 1km before the trail ascends onto the open fell. Alice and I tend to separate on technically easy but long climbs, so this served as a little workout for the both of us, as we were certain we'd be taking the ridge very, very slowly. It took me exactly 1 hour to reach Middagsaksla and Alice arrived about 10 minutes later.
The pyramidal peak of Hamperokken is hidden throughout the entire climb to Middagsaksla, coming in to view only as you reach the summit. I had been silently quite nervous about today's objective, and had the past hour of hiking to meditate on this. Ascending Middagsaksla, I had found that my nervous transformed into a kind of suspense, then excitement; so when I first got sight of the summit, I was overcome with emotion. From Middagsaksla, the knife edge ridge weaves over two smaller peaks before ascending rapidly towards the isolated tower of rock (which still looks unclimbable to my novice scrambler's eye), Hamperokken.
Reacquainted with Alice, we reduced our pace and embarked on our traverse along the ridge. There is little over 1km from the start of the ridge to the summit of Hamperokken, though we found hard to believe in the moment, the airiness making the peak look still so distant and isolated. The ridge begins wide before rapidly narrowing and forcing you to take some easy, but oh so terrifying steps over the knife edge. Drawing a comparison with British ridges, I'd say this is similar in exposure to Crib Goch or Sharp Edge (although much lengthier than the latter). Alice suddenly found herself very scared and froze for a little bit between the exposed sections, expressing concern for what might be to come. I reassured her that we could turn around later, if she found a section too challenging, but we should at least push on whilst there were no technical difficulties. She agreed.
Soon enough the ridge widened somewhat and a small trod ran parallel along the righthand side. We went back-and-forth between the crest and this trod as we climbed the one of the sub-peaks along the ridge. This was technically easy again and much less exposed than the beginning of the ridge. Relaxed somewhat, I stupidly leaped across a small section, only to scuff my knee up on some rocks. Fortunately the damage seemed only to be superficial, some bleeding but I could walk just fine. Nonetheless, this was my warning to be careful when in such places. We had become hungry, and not wanting to wait till the summit, stopped on this sub-peak for some lunch. We ate in silence, nervously looking towards the summit pillar as we knew the trickiest parts were yet to come...
Well-fed, we began our approach to the 'gully'-like formation that connects the summit to the right side of the ridge. There were a few 'airy' ledges to cross, but nothing serious. We could hear voices behind us; it wasn't long before we were joined by three very confident looking Norwegians. We met them at the base of the chute that leads to the summit, and asked about route finding, as we knew that this section involved some scrambling. They assured us that it 'all leads to the top' and that we could follow them if we were unsure. Just being around other people seemed to ease our nerves, even if the most confident of the three was showing his mates the gnarly ski lines he'd taken down the near vertical cliff to our right (it would later turn out that he was none other than local celebrity skier and filmmaker, Nikolai Schirmer, though we didn't find this out until after our trip!).
The chute to the summit is very steep and involves scrambling. There were about two 'awkward' moves that required a little thought. I had read to stay on the right side of the gully, though to expect some exposure; following this advice a little too literally, I got pumped with adrenaline as I topped out of one move and onto a daunting cliff edge! Alice took comfort in having some other people to watch and follow towards the summit. Being so focused meant that the summit took us by surprise and we soon found ourselves on the small rocky island in the sky that had occupied our minds since that April car journey.
The views are phenomenal, particularly to Lyngsalpanene and its glacial cap Jiehkkevárri, as well as Kvaløya and other islands along the coast. Nikolai pointed out some of his gnarly ski tours and recommended some of the Ersfjord peaks to try. We took in the atmosphere, though we both were silently dreading the descent down the chute...
It turns out that down climbing from the summit was not as difficult as we had feared. Back at the ledges that lead back to the ridge, we made a (hindsight, stupid) decision to descend towards Litleskarvatnet, wanting a circular route for a change. What followed was an extremely steep and loose 'path' descending over 600m... we moved incredibly slowly, keeping our distance from each other out of the fear of inducing a rockslide. Despite our frustration, we both remarked on the near vertical rock faces around us, scarred with veins of some lighter mineral and often looked back up at Hamperokken, which looked a lot like a wizard's hat! Probably an hour after summiting, we arrived at the glacial lake. Despite the steep walls of rock that surrounded us, the sun's rays could still reach us, so we sat on some boulders and enjoyed a flapjack.
Naively, we had assumed that upon reaching the lake that from the boulders a path would emerge. This was not the case and for at least another kilometre we hopped across large boulders; after which a path did finally emerge. As we entered the forest, rejoining the path to Middagsaksla, the sun was low in the sky, making the mountains glow. On sturdier ground, we were both euphoric, having pushed a little outside of our comfort zone to reach 'the most mountain-like of the mountains we have climbed'; though this didn't stop the midges feasting on our weary legs!
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