New Favorite Person
Hansi Bjarkøy’s Home Roots
Hansi Bjarkøy didn’t learn to ski until his 20s, but watching him carve high speed turns past us in western Norway’s Hurungane mountains, you wouldn’t know it.
It was early February, and a dry spell had hit most of Norway during what’s typically the deepest time of year. But the bright side was visibility. Our crew of writers, photographers and Rab athletes toured into some of the alpine terrain that’s typically reserved for the springtime. Jagged peaks in the Hurungane rose into the sky on all sides, and rolling glacial valleys shimmered in the low winter light.
Hansi was brimming with excitement to share his backyard, and as we wandered up the ridgeline, he bounced between the group, racing ahead to snap photos and then dropping back for a chat. The 35-year-old skier, guide, photographer and farmer has built deep roots in this region of Norway in a short time, leaving behind a stable job in the city for a peaceful life in the mountains.
“Ever since I moved here I’ve stopped traveling abroad to ski,” he said. “That wasn’t my aim exactly, but living here, where we have so much terrain to choose from, I haven’t felt the pull to leave.”
Backyard turns in the Jostedalen region of Norway. Photo: Daniel Sandland
Hansi grew up close to the coast in western Norway, in a region that doesn’t have much skiing or snowfall. When he was 20, he moved south to Stavanger, Norway’s fourth most populous city, and the oil capital of the country. He worked an IT job, and his company at the time took an annual ski trip to Val Thorens, France. “I grew up going to a resort [in Norway] once or twice a year, but that trip was when I was first exposed to what I would call ‘real’ skiing,” he recalls.
Hansi was immediately hooked on skiing—the people, the sense of freedom, the adventure of exploring a new place. Soon, he was planning trips to the Alps whenever he could. It was only a few hours by plane to get to Geneva or Munich, and he’d fly over by himself, meet people at breakfast, and ski all day with new friends in France and Austria. “I was skiing a lot then, but I was really bad,” he laughs. “I remember I made some friends while skiing in Austria and one told me, ‘Hey, I know you ski a lot, but maybe you should take some courses.’”
For the next few years, he traveled to the Alps a few times a month. But it wasn’t until the Covid-19 pandemic, when resort skiing in Europe shut down for almost two years, that he returned home and opened his eyes to the lifetime of skiing available back home. He met his girlfriend Marte, left his corporate job behind and moved to Kroken Fjordgard, a farm along Sognjefjord, Norway’s longest and deepest fjord that stretches 127 miles inland.
Harvesting apples on Kroken Fjordgard. Photo: Rab/Anders Vestergaard
Above the fjord, snow capped peaks spill out on all sides, a striking contrast that’s unique to this part of the world. The Jostedalen National Park to the north—continental Europe’s biggest glacier—contributes to the dry, cold snow that typically blankets the area. “For snowfall, this part of Norway is usually a pretty reliable place for skiing in the winter,” Hansi told us when we arrived in February.
Hansi credits all those years of resort skiing in the Alps to his comfort on skis now. Which is crucial in Norway, where most of the alpine terrain is far from resort boundaries. “To get to the cool terrain in Norway you need to skin,” he says. “You have a few resorts in Norway where you can get to some alpine terrain, but all of the high peaks or big mountain terrain you need to tour.”
With a handful of trailheads just 30 minutes away, Hansi has spent most of the last few years exploring the mountains surrounding his home—often with his giant Samoyed dog Milo—which offer limitless possibilities for multi-day ski tours. “Skiing between cabins up here in the mountains, linking together different areas, that’s when I’m the happiest out here,” he says. “Putting it all together to ski, navigate and stay out there is what really inspires me right now about skiing.”
Hansi’s Samoyed Milo is one of his primary ski partners during the Norwiegan winters. Photo: Daniel Sandland
Kroken Fjordgard, the farm Hansi and Marte live on now, had a thriving apple garden sitting on the property when they moved in. Hansi recalls a day where the two of them stood in the apple orchard and looked around at all the fruit in bloom. “We started to discuss how it could become a part of how we make a living,” he says.
That was the beginning of the couple’s summer cider business, which they dive into when the snow melts and the summertime visitors arrive. They harvest apples in the fall, juice and ferment them for a year, and sell cider starting in May and June right from their farm all summer long. “It’s a really cool circular process, all the small steps throughout the year to prune the trees, harvest the apples, and ferment the cider,” Hansi says, adding that Marte has always been the main driver behind their cider business.
Most of the food they eat in the summer comes right from their yard, with a vegetable garden and sheep for grazing and meat. Farming and skiing is a connection that Hansi says is natural, and relatable for skiers who spend a lot of time in the backcountry. Fellow Atomic athlete Chris Rubens has made a career out of farming, shifting seasonally between skiing in the winter and farming in the summer.
“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we as skiers and mountain people also tend to fall in love with farming,” Hansi says. “This closeness to nature and producing something out of the soil, seeing how everything is connected together—it’s a big reason I feel so comfortable being in this area and skiing without traveling. It feels nice to be in this area, where I’m so connected to the land.”
Selling cider from Kroken Fjordgard, the farm where Hansi and Marte live. Photo: Rab/Anders Vestergaard