As I senior in high school, I was drawn to Norway. Most people would probably prefer Hawaii. Who actually goes to Norway for vacation? Not too many. But Norway is unique. Norway has snow, mountains, fjords, and women more beautiful than the country they inhabit. I heard a Norwegian man say the Vikings stole all the beautiful women when they went on raids to England, so that’s why Scandinavians have godlike good looks while the British, not so much.
For some reason, all those things seemed cool to me. I was very lucky, because my dad agreed to take me to Norway. He travels often, mostly to China for business, and has thousands upon thousands of frequent flier miles. Since he has so much, I was even able to convince him to allow my best friend at the time, Steven, to come along.
For two weeks we toured the country. We stayed in Oslo, Bergen, and Jotenheimen National Park further inland. But the most exotic place we went was the North Cape, the farthest north point in Europe. I wanted to see the midnight sun, reindeer, expanses of tundra, and craggy cliffs meeting the frigid Arctic.
The trek up to the North Cape was long. We cheated—we flew to Alta and saved most of the distance. Driving by car would be something akin to driving from the lower 48 to Alaska. But getting to Alta got us within two hundred miles. We then made half that distance by renting a car there and driving to Hammerfest to stay the night, the northernmost town in the world. The next day, we drove the rest of the way to the North Cape.
After three hours or so, we arrived. It was early August and the temperature was 38 degrees Fahrenheit, barring wind chill. Being from south Texas, that was colder than most winter days I’d seen. But I managed to stay outside and trudge up the slope, to the very edge of Europe, where the land fell over one thousand feet to the Arctic below.
Everything was gray: the ocean, the clouded sky, and the rocks. They reflected how I felt. At the time, there was a lot that was gray inside me.
I was about to go to the University of Oklahoma. I didn’t know anyone there. I was leaving everyone I knew, starting something new. I didn’t know how it would turn out. The answers weren’t clear—it was murky. It was gray.
My family had moved to Oklahoma City literally three days after I graduated from my high school in Clute, Texas. I would most likely not see most of the people I grew up with again. This included Steven, who was now standing beside me as we looked north, farther north than either of us would likely see again. We had had many adventures, and this, standing here above the Arctic waves eroding the North Cape, felt like our last hurrah.
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