But your post reminded me of the greatest adventurer that I knew. My grandmother! At the age of 13 she would spend weeks on end tending their sheep on the other (remote) side of the Fjord in Norway. Crawled down the mountain with an appendicitis attack and laid on a boulder sticking out from the shore a bit for a day and a night before a passing boat saw her and saved her. At the age of 15 she moved away from home to a larger city to learn how to sew. At the age of 16 she sailed for America. By herself. No friends or relatives over here. She landed in New York and asked where all the Norwegians were. Someone told her “Minnesota” so she got on a train for Minnesota.
She didn't realize it was 1500 miles away!
Cool!
Where in Norway was your grandmother from? Neat story.
My grandfather was the youngest child but first to be born in the US. Minniesota, of course. All the rest were born on the western coast of Norway, near Alesund. Moved to Seattle where even MORE Norwegians were. “And it looked like Norway.”