Traveling Through Norway on the Pan America – 2,000 km Through the Wild South

In Rain Mode, the throttle response is less sharp in wet conditions, the suspension absorbs whatever the asphalt throws at it, and the landscape rolls by as if it were a painting. You ride more slowly, stop more often, take longer to look around—and quickly realize that this is exactly the point.

Every now and then, the first stave church comes into view—made entirely of wood—and the scent of the damp forest is so intense that I have to stop briefly and take a deep breath. Road cyclists are everywhere, almost like in Italy. I notice myself slowly shifting down a gear—both in my head and on the throttle.

After spending the night at a hotel in Drammen, I change my plans: not Lillehammer, but straight out into nature. Via Kongsberg and the old Route 40, always following the river, up toward Geilo. The landscape becomes more expansive, barren, and majestic. Signs requiring snow chains appear; the pass summit is just shy of the 1,000-meter mark.

Then the Hardangervidda—exactly what I came here for. A national tourist route runs right through the middle of it, through the first big tunnel, over a massive suspension bridge. And then the weather takes a turn: seven degrees and rain on the open plateau. „Guys, I’m out of luck. Seven degrees. But this place is awesome.“ Both are true.

„You don’t drive fast here. But that’s not what it’s all about here in Norway. Enjoying nature. Taking a deep breath.“ The Pan America carries its three aluminum cases as if it were the most natural thing in the world—one central key for all of them, a sturdy design, and even a power bank in the lid.

You only notice the weight when it’s fully loaded: „like a furniture truck,“ but a very smooth one. After a few days, you’ll be able to grab the right suitcase without even looking—the system becomes second nature.

The last part of the journey is the wildest. Mountain passes with weather stations, convoys of construction vehicles, and an extremely dark tunnel over eight kilometers long with a nine percent grade. These sudden changes in light can quickly make you tired, so the only thing to do is slow down and stay focused.

At Langfossen, the water plunges hundreds of meters into the depths just a few meters from the road—one of those waterfalls where you simply have to stop. No sooner are you back in the saddle than the next pass appears, and with it the construction zone traffic lights, where entire lines of cars are backed up.

And then there was that one spontaneous detour onto a side road that was way too steep. The flatlander in me briefly felt a fear of heights, but I deliberately stayed close to the rock face: „The Pan-American Highway doesn’t care, as long as I stay in my lane.“ It did. So did I.

After 2,000 kilometers through rain, cold, gravel, and winding fjord roads, I can answer the question with certainty: Yes. The Pan America isn’t just a fair-weather enduro bike that pretends to be an adventure bike. It’s the one all-around bike for exactly this range of conditions.

Despite its weight, handling remains surprisingly light. The Revolution Max V2 accelerates powerfully from mid-range onward. The semi-active suspension is the hidden star, the cornering lights are „awesome, awesome,“ and the brakes are snappy. Any complaints? The CVO’s unlit instrument panel at night and the fiddly navigation system. But none of that detracts from the overall experience.