iceland i forget which days

some real bushwacking here, except there are no bushes really, just moss and snow and ice and stones, little plants hugging the cold ground. the glacier around Snaefell having collapsed, and the trail with it, i took the other way around, to Geldingafell hut. this part was uneventfull, just a nice sunday ride. or was it friday, or tuesday? i forget. i camped at the hut, not having made a reservation…it was, well, nice.

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in the morning, massive rainbows broke quickly into seas of ice and rock and snow. there was little riding this day, just following the gps track as best i could. cold, windy, wet, foggy…it was, well, also nice. i snacked on peanut butter sandwiches and had a cup of tea in the shelter of the only big rock i could find.

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not much riding this day, i finally made it to Egilsell hut. here i was trapped by wind and rain for 36 hours, basically straying from the tent only for the call of nature, and rushing back into the tent from the howl of nature, and the wet. at this point i discovered, my tent is no longer waterproof. highly recomended : hydrophobic treated down sleeping bag, hydrophobic treated down jacket. i was wet, but warm…

when the weather broke i was on my way. this time i didnt make the mistake to follow a track, i just picked out several landmarks, logged them as ‘waypoints’ on my gps, and found my own route over the terrain. i was riding again!!

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reindeer!! see em’? there, those tiny specs… in fact they were pretty close but, i havent got the big lens for my camera.
this after the deepest river ford yet. sometimes there’s nothing left to do but strip down and wade in…

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then the fog came, from out of nowhere, and i was blindly heading towards my waypoints. ice rivers, ice, rivers, snowbanks over ice rivers, bogs and marsh, more snowbanks. there was one waymarker more or less where i had calculated, then the fog broke and i had to step back!! pinnacles and sheer drops all around! the ‘normal’ trail had become a raging torrent of snowmelt, completely impassable…i had to backtrack to find the least sketchy way down.

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and then rockfall!! i lost hold of the bike, it went crashing down, stones rumbling down around me, i was lucky to get away with just some bruises! the bike tumbled 100m or more, i cringed…made my way down to it, and besides the handlebars askew, no trouble. i got to the bottom, see that look on my face? that’s the look of reaching the limit of what i should be doing alone, without rope…

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finally i made it to Leiras hut, this the open kind, where one pays a small fee if one uses the facility. no reservation, that was a welcome respite. i stayed there till noon the next day, dry out my clothes, cook some food, coffee in the morning…rub some chinese medicine into my bruises, all good.

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the ride out in the day was splendid, revived, relaxed, following the river, ever ever flowing to the sea. i made it. once at the road, i messaged the rangers at Snaefel, to tell them i had arrived. then i turned my back on that little episode, madness hike-a-bike across the mountains. would i do it again? i am still thinking about that…maybe, but not without a rope, and perhaps, a climbing cycling partner…

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