Late summer in the vast silent mountains of Dovrefjell National Park. The light simply refuses to fade till the late evening hours at this time of the year, the air stays open, humid and cool, and the landscape invites for much more to explore. So I did!

Musk oxen (Ovibos moschatus) in Dovrefjell National Park near Dombås, Norway, September, 2023. During a short trip through the high plateau landscape, I accompanied a couple of these up to 400kg heavy ancient animals, which were reintroduced decades ago, in their natural habitat. The region is characterized by wide plains, long cliffs, waterfalls and open tundra. The series documents a time in the presence of these giant and impressive animals, in the rugged north of Dovrefjell, Norway. By Christoph Rutenkolk - Portrait & Reportage

Musk Oxen in Dovrefjell

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I arrived in the early evening, late enough for the day to slow down, but still bright enough to make camping in the van feel effortless. The weather was calm, almost kind for a place known for its harshness. That night passed quietly. The morning came quick. I woke up to funny sound outside of the vehicle, a small herd of sheep passing the van, completely into their daily business. It was an unplanned but sweet introduction. Dovrefjell does not greet you typically. It reminds you, that you are not the point of focus here and just a guest.

Time to getting ready for the high plateaus that are stretching wide in front of me, shaped by wind, stone and time. The wind is stronger than the days before. Clouds move fast, then disappear, then return. Visibility changes constantly. Searching for musk oxen in this environment is a very active pursuit. Checking always behind the next little hill for the unexpected encounter. Scanning distant slopes as well, stopping, sitting down again. The landscape dictates the pace. You adapt like the Animals we were looking for, or you leave without or even worse an unexpected very close encounter.

The rocky landscape of Dovrefjell. © Christoph Rutenkolk

After some hours and the first lead for big animals we got lucky to see some wild horses. Distracted by that we almost passed by our main subject of being here this day, perfectly fit in the environment. Almost invisible.

Wild horses encounter. © Christoph Rutenkolk

First Musk Ox of my life. © Christoph Rutenkolk

We finally encountered at first one then two animals resting and moving slowly through the terrain. There was no moment of victory, because we wanted to get closer without disturbing. Just enjoy their presence. Distance matters here. A minimum of one hundred meters is strongly recommended, and not as a formality. That distance quickly proves itself necessary.

Through the camera, I watched one of the oxen rise, tense its body and suddenly move with explosive force towards us. We made ourselves as invisible as possible, pretty sure that this was not just a warning. It was a simple show off from his power existing without concern for this environment uphill as well as downhill. Seeing that through the lens, even from far away, changes the way you stand, the way you breathe, the way you think about your and their space. Respect was the only word we got in our minds.

Musk oxen look ancient because they are. Their movements feel heavy, and uncompromising but they absolutely aren’t. They are their Kings and Queens of their environment. They are curious. But they do not just perform. They tolerate your presence only as long as it remains irrelevant. That balance is fragile and must not be tested.

Following the Oxen. © Christoph Rutenkolk

Enjoying the wild. © Christoph Rutenkolk

The musk oxen of Dovrefjell did not always belong to Norway in the simple sense. They were reintroduced between 1947 and 1950, brought from Greenland as part of an effort to restore a species that once roamed these regions during the Ice Age. Several early attempts failed. Only later did a stable population establish itself in the area. Today they remain protected, closely monitored and wild.

Acceptance appears. © Christoph Rutenkolk

The hours passed quietly. We stayed low, still, letting the animals decide the rhythm of our presence. Eventually the tension eased, not because trust was built, but because nothing demanded attention anymore. That was the closest thing to acceptance.

Hidden behind the rocks. © Christoph Rutenkolk

Between waiting and watching, the plateau revealed smaller details. Grazing animals scattered across the hills, patches of moss and stone, berries growing close to the ground. We were curious and ate what the land offered, rested when the light softened, and lay in the afternoon sun much like the animals around us.

Dovrefjell has no interest in spectacle. It does not frame its wildlife for photographs or reward effort with guaranteed encounters. Everything happens on its terms. The weather can turn quickly. The animals can vanish into the landscape without warning. The ground itself feels indifferent to human intention.

Unpredictable weather. © Christoph Rutenkolk

Little civilization in vast lands. © Christoph Rutenkolk

That indifference is what gives the place its weight.

As the day moved toward evening again, the musk oxen drifted farther into the open terrain. They simply continued, as they have for decades since their return, shaped by the same forces that existed long before they were brought back here.

This was not a story about getting close. It was about keeping distance. About understanding that it is not a limitation, but a requirement. In places like Dovrefjell, distance is what allows coexistence to work at all.

Wildlife does not need witnesses. It needs space.

Goodbye with a scenery. © Christoph Rutenkolk

Leaving the plateau later that day, nothing felt concluded. There was no sense of having taken something away. Only the quiet awareness of being present without interfering. The kind of experience that does not demand to be shared loudly.

Dovrefjell remains what it is. A living landscape, not a backdrop. A place where humans pass through briefly, and the musk oxen stay.