Photo Gallery by QuickGallery.com
Showing posts with label Iceland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Iceland. Show all posts
Friday, October 23, 2015
Iceland in Photos
Photo Gallery by QuickGallery.com
Monday, October 19, 2015
Bike Touring Iceland: The end days
Day 9: Snaefellsjokull to Stykkisholmur (by bike and bus)
Day 10: Stykkisholmur to Reykjavik Airport (by bus)
Our plan for the end of the trip was to ride the north coast of the Snaefell peninsula to the largish town of Stykkisholmur, from whence we would take a bus to Reykjavik and then to the airport. However, when we were forced to turn back by the snow, the need to cycle around the base of Snaefellsjokull added about 50km to the distance to Stykkisholmur. We could have cycled the full distance, but it would have left us only one bus option to make our flights, and the buses have limited, unreservable, bike spaces. Consequently, we decided to take a bus for part of the route along the north coast as well, taking the pressure off entirely.
We slept and snoozed and breakfasted before emerging from the tent at around 11am. Back on the road, we decided to take a 15km detour to visit Ondverdarnes, the westernmost point in Iceland. Since Postyn and I have both done the Camino de Santiago which ends at Finisterre, the westernmost point in continental Europe. Ondverdarnes makes the claim of being the westernmost point in Europe, but actually, being so far west as to be on the North American continental plate, we weren't so sure! We had a strong headwind and the dirt road was heavily washboarded, making the riding unpleasant. The spot itself was nothing special, although there were cool lava rock formations. Some water-smoothed boulders were hundreds of feet from the water, meaning the place must get some serious storms! There, I discovered that my left-front pannier rack had broken -- sheared off where it bolts to the drop-out. So I removed that rack and pannier and strapped them on elsewhere.
From there we cycled along to Hellisandur, which had a bus stop and a tiny shop. We bought lunch foods there. After the previous night's horror of a meal, we splashed out on such luxuries as pesto -- even though prices were high, maybe 50% more than in Reykjavik. We caught the bus soon after, and had a beautiful drive to Stykkisholmur, although it felt a shame to race through the beautiful landscape in a bus, rather than savoring it by bike. But most people who visit Iceland hardly get out of their vehicles. We arrived in late afternoon, shopped for food and then headed down to the harbor to make dinner, sans cooking. We had a delicious canned bean/ salsa/ veggie salad, topped with crushed tortilla chips. Our meal was very drawn out as we had a long talk with the FGS -- friendly German stranger.
In any case it was tasty, and our mood was jovial. We played "lettuce chicken." We had bought a head of lettuce which turned out included the plant's roots in a tiny pot of soil. It didn't fit in our salad bowl (our one cook pot) so we ate it in bites on the side. We took turns taking bites to see who would give up first. I think it was me -- i didn't really enjoy the taste of dirt on my lettuce. We also coined several fun phrases, such as "cuddle my tuft" and "chafing my moorings." Their meaning is unclear, but the words "Well, cuddle my tuft!" were said, along with "That really chafed my moorings."
We biked out of town a ways to find a spot to camp, and had a beautiful sunset.
In the morning, we woke early in order to be first at the bus stop, knowing that the spots available for bikes were first-come-first-served. We were very early, so checked out the town campsite, and found next to the trash, lots of fuel canisters, including one with some fuel left, which we took. As we approached Reykjavik, it began to rain. On the bus ride, we figured out expenses for the trip. Including everything spent from landing to taking off, we spent an average of $23 per day. A chunk of this was spent on buses, but still, food was expensive in Iceland.
In Reykjavik, it was pouring. We ended up taking another bus into the center of town because it was available for free with our ticket to Reykjavik. We spent the afternoon at the Harpa Center, the big concert hall. We ate outside under the cover of one of it's overhangs, and then read and relaxed inside for many hours. The weather was wild: driving winds and heavy rain. As the weather improved, we headed out to buy postcards and check out a cool 3d map of Iceland at the town hall. We then went to the bus stop to catch a 4:00 bus to the airport, the last of the day. Because I had to leave very early the next day, there was no way to get there in time, with our bikes. When the bus arrived, the driver looked at our bikes and said -- you can't bring those. Gulp. Turns out the route to the airport is the only one in the whole country on which Iceland's bus company, Straetó, does not take bikes. We biked back to the tourist office and asked about options. They didn't know anything, but checked online the schedule of the private bus company we had taken on the way in -- and said we had just missed the last one. Thankfully, Postyn decided to check on his phone, and in fact there was another one at 8pm. We called and were told we could just get tickets on the bus, and that our bikes were no problem. We thus had another 4 hours to kill at the Harpa Center!
When the bus arrived, the driver had switched to a smaller van because he had very few reservations. Thankfully he was very kind and managed to squeeze our bikes into the van -- but if any other passengers had tried to get on, there wouldn't have been space! We got to the airport just after 9:00, to find the floors littered with young people waiting, as we were, for early morning flights. Signs in the airport said "no cooking or camping on the premises." I guess its a common problem. We headed to the far end of the parking lot to cook dinner. Our fuel ran out again, but thankfully our pasta was almost cooked. At around 10:30pm, in strong wind and rain, we cycled 100m outside the gates of the airport, pushed our bikes a ways into the grass to the shelter of an earth mound, and pitched the tent. We were quite damp, and the planes overhead kept us awake for several hours. We woke up at 3:30, in the dark, not very well rested, packed up, and pushed our bikes cross-country to the Bila-hotel where we had paid to store our bike box. Although open 24 hours, it took a while to find the right guy, and we then had to search four different rooms of bags to find our box. It took until just before 5am to sort our gear and disassemble my bike. Postyn left his intact, as he planned to cycle to a nearby hot-spring for the morning, before his afternoon flight!
Heading to the airport check-in, I found an empty check-in station and used it to balance the weight of my hand luggage, bike box, and checked bag, as I knew I was within a kilo of my max allowable weight. I then got in line to check in for WOW airlines. It was terrible. At the beginning, there were only two staff to check in two flights, and so I spent nearly an hour in line. Postyn meanwhile made me breakfast and a pack lunch -- what a boss. With 45 min to departure, I had to race with my bike box to oversized luggage, where there was another line. After a hurried goodbye to Postyn, I ran upstairs to find yet another line, for security. Through that, I ran straight to my gate (of course, the farthest one in the whole airport) and got there, sweating, with 2 minutes before the gate closed. On the plane I went straight to the toilets to change out of my gross clothes, then spent the 3 hour flight talking to the woman next to me, a American doing a biology Phd at Cambridge. She was from the Adirondacks, and, amazingly, had just been to a wedding in Williamstown! Small world.
And that concludes an excellent adventure in Iceland! We explored only a very small corner of the country, and I would definitely go back!
Day 10: Stykkisholmur to Reykjavik Airport (by bus)
Our plan for the end of the trip was to ride the north coast of the Snaefell peninsula to the largish town of Stykkisholmur, from whence we would take a bus to Reykjavik and then to the airport. However, when we were forced to turn back by the snow, the need to cycle around the base of Snaefellsjokull added about 50km to the distance to Stykkisholmur. We could have cycled the full distance, but it would have left us only one bus option to make our flights, and the buses have limited, unreservable, bike spaces. Consequently, we decided to take a bus for part of the route along the north coast as well, taking the pressure off entirely.
We slept and snoozed and breakfasted before emerging from the tent at around 11am. Back on the road, we decided to take a 15km detour to visit Ondverdarnes, the westernmost point in Iceland. Since Postyn and I have both done the Camino de Santiago which ends at Finisterre, the westernmost point in continental Europe. Ondverdarnes makes the claim of being the westernmost point in Europe, but actually, being so far west as to be on the North American continental plate, we weren't so sure! We had a strong headwind and the dirt road was heavily washboarded, making the riding unpleasant. The spot itself was nothing special, although there were cool lava rock formations. Some water-smoothed boulders were hundreds of feet from the water, meaning the place must get some serious storms! There, I discovered that my left-front pannier rack had broken -- sheared off where it bolts to the drop-out. So I removed that rack and pannier and strapped them on elsewhere.
 |
| Ondverdarnes -- the westernmost point in Europe? |
From there we cycled along to Hellisandur, which had a bus stop and a tiny shop. We bought lunch foods there. After the previous night's horror of a meal, we splashed out on such luxuries as pesto -- even though prices were high, maybe 50% more than in Reykjavik. We caught the bus soon after, and had a beautiful drive to Stykkisholmur, although it felt a shame to race through the beautiful landscape in a bus, rather than savoring it by bike. But most people who visit Iceland hardly get out of their vehicles. We arrived in late afternoon, shopped for food and then headed down to the harbor to make dinner, sans cooking. We had a delicious canned bean/ salsa/ veggie salad, topped with crushed tortilla chips. Our meal was very drawn out as we had a long talk with the FGS -- friendly German stranger.
 |
| Lighthouse at Stykkisholmur harbor, photo by Postyn |
We biked out of town a ways to find a spot to camp, and had a beautiful sunset.
 |
| Sunset over the mountains on the north coast of the Snaefell Peninsula. Photo by Postyn, from his sleeping bag! |
In Reykjavik, it was pouring. We ended up taking another bus into the center of town because it was available for free with our ticket to Reykjavik. We spent the afternoon at the Harpa Center, the big concert hall. We ate outside under the cover of one of it's overhangs, and then read and relaxed inside for many hours. The weather was wild: driving winds and heavy rain. As the weather improved, we headed out to buy postcards and check out a cool 3d map of Iceland at the town hall. We then went to the bus stop to catch a 4:00 bus to the airport, the last of the day. Because I had to leave very early the next day, there was no way to get there in time, with our bikes. When the bus arrived, the driver looked at our bikes and said -- you can't bring those. Gulp. Turns out the route to the airport is the only one in the whole country on which Iceland's bus company, Straetó, does not take bikes. We biked back to the tourist office and asked about options. They didn't know anything, but checked online the schedule of the private bus company we had taken on the way in -- and said we had just missed the last one. Thankfully, Postyn decided to check on his phone, and in fact there was another one at 8pm. We called and were told we could just get tickets on the bus, and that our bikes were no problem. We thus had another 4 hours to kill at the Harpa Center!
 |
| Lunch under the glass façade of the Harpa Center |
When the bus arrived, the driver had switched to a smaller van because he had very few reservations. Thankfully he was very kind and managed to squeeze our bikes into the van -- but if any other passengers had tried to get on, there wouldn't have been space! We got to the airport just after 9:00, to find the floors littered with young people waiting, as we were, for early morning flights. Signs in the airport said "no cooking or camping on the premises." I guess its a common problem. We headed to the far end of the parking lot to cook dinner. Our fuel ran out again, but thankfully our pasta was almost cooked. At around 10:30pm, in strong wind and rain, we cycled 100m outside the gates of the airport, pushed our bikes a ways into the grass to the shelter of an earth mound, and pitched the tent. We were quite damp, and the planes overhead kept us awake for several hours. We woke up at 3:30, in the dark, not very well rested, packed up, and pushed our bikes cross-country to the Bila-hotel where we had paid to store our bike box. Although open 24 hours, it took a while to find the right guy, and we then had to search four different rooms of bags to find our box. It took until just before 5am to sort our gear and disassemble my bike. Postyn left his intact, as he planned to cycle to a nearby hot-spring for the morning, before his afternoon flight!
Heading to the airport check-in, I found an empty check-in station and used it to balance the weight of my hand luggage, bike box, and checked bag, as I knew I was within a kilo of my max allowable weight. I then got in line to check in for WOW airlines. It was terrible. At the beginning, there were only two staff to check in two flights, and so I spent nearly an hour in line. Postyn meanwhile made me breakfast and a pack lunch -- what a boss. With 45 min to departure, I had to race with my bike box to oversized luggage, where there was another line. After a hurried goodbye to Postyn, I ran upstairs to find yet another line, for security. Through that, I ran straight to my gate (of course, the farthest one in the whole airport) and got there, sweating, with 2 minutes before the gate closed. On the plane I went straight to the toilets to change out of my gross clothes, then spent the 3 hour flight talking to the woman next to me, a American doing a biology Phd at Cambridge. She was from the Adirondacks, and, amazingly, had just been to a wedding in Williamstown! Small world.
And that concludes an excellent adventure in Iceland! We explored only a very small corner of the country, and I would definitely go back!
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Bike Touring Iceland: Day 8
Lysahúll to Mt. Snaefell
As we reached the shoulder, the winds increased and the temps dropped. Snaefellsjokull was shrouded in cloud -- we couldn't see the summit. However, looking up we got occasional views of a spur of rock a good ways up, visible in the center of the photo below.
At the summit of the pass, we stopped for a late lunch. Then we ditched the bikes and packed layers, food and water into our backpacks, and headed up. We initially stayed on the lines of exposed rock which run upwards. When these ran out, we walked on the snow. On the way up, the views got even better. We could see the route we had cycled over previous days, giving an excellent new perspective at the end of the trip. Lucy and I did something similar last summer in Norway, with a hike on our penultimate day.
After an hour and a half or so, we came to the base of the rocky outcrop which had been our target. Climbing this was tricky as the loose volcanic scree slid with every step.
The summit was very windy, and cold enough to be partly covered in rime ice, in August. On the way up we knew we were walking on glacial ice because beneath the snow it was bright blue, and there were occasional cracks -- the beginnings of crevasses. These can be seen in the photo above, as thin lines in the snow.
Looking upwards, the ridge was exposed and began to look more crevassed. We decided to turn back. After working our way slowly down the volcanic scree of our summit outcrop, we regained the snow. In a stroke of absolute genius, Postyn suggested we glissade (French for "slide on your a$$") back down. This was brilliant fun, and we descended in 15 minutes what took us almost two hours to climb.
`
After our outrageously fun descent -- a highlight of the trip -- we repacked our bikes and continued along the road. It was about 4:30 pm by this point. We had thought we were at the summit of the pass and thus were looking forward to a long descent. However, around the bend, the road continued upwards. Soon we came to a patch of snow covering the road, and had to dismount. This happened several times before we arrived, relieved, at the actual pass. Unfortunately, when we looked down the other side, all we could see was snow, disappearing into the clouds.
While there had been little snow on the way up, we now realized we were looking at the north-facing slope --considerably snowier. And we had been told earlier that this had been a record snow year for Iceland. 8m in some places. But still, a pass of this altitude closed in August? There were faint car tracks through the snow, so we set off on foot to see if we could follow them to the other side of the snow patch.However, the visibility was extremely poor. Without our own footprints to follow back, it would have been very easy to get lost. In all, we spent an hour following various tracks across the snow, including a faint set of bicycle tires. We still hadn't found the other edge of the snow, and it was 6:30pm. We didn't fancy a night on the snow, so returned to the bikes, and headed back the way we came.
We were disappointed to have to turn back, but also concerned that we were almost out of food, and would have quite a way to go the next day before reaching the next town with food. However, the descent was stunning. The views were the same as on the way up, but we were facing the right direction this time. It ranks as one of the best descents of my life, but I was certainly thankful for my fat mountain bike tires and disc brakes. Postyn enjoyed the descent less than I did, particularly as he had a small crash on the way down.
Once down, I noticed a sign at the base of the road saying "impassable." Whoops. But it was a grand adventure in any case!
Concerned to make some distance before camping, we kept riding. Postyn led at a tough pace. I struggled to keep up, and by 9:00, after probably 12 hours on the move, was ready to camp anywhere. Unfortunately, we were passing through Snaefell National Park, where camping is forbidden, and in any case the land on both sides was nearly bare lava. Around 9:30 we found a spot to camp, with the summit of Snaefellsjokull cloud free and still in the sun above us.
For better or worse, our adventurous day was not yet over. We were almost out of food. We still had breakfast food. But for dinner, all we had was several packets of quick-cook rice, a sprinkling of couscous, bouillon cubes, butter and a whole onion. Also, our trusty fuel canister finally sounded just about empty when shook. Whoops. We decided to cook everything at the same time to minimize the chance that the fuel would run out part way through. Unfortunately, after 5 minutes, it did run out. Our onions were basically raw, and the rice was very crunchy. We were very hungry, so started eating. As it turns out, Postyn and I both hate raw onion, so after a few bites forced down, we started picking out the onion. On the plus side, the couscous was cooked, but on the minus side, the raw rice and overpowering onion flavor were disgusting.
How fitting of Iceland that one of the best day's adventure of my life ended with the worst meal of my life.
 |
| The snowy slopes of Snaefellsjokull (photo by Postyn) |
We got an earlyish start as we knew we had a big day ahead. We continued along the coast, stopping mid-morning at a beach where we had heard we could see seals. Indeed there were about a dozen seals on the rocks and in the water. On land they are ungainly oafs, in water, completely transformed.
 |
| The seals are the not-quite-rock-color lumps among the rock-colored lumps |
We continued on to the little town of Arnastapi, known for its lava sea cliffs. We didn't know what to expect, but it was wild.
 |
| Organ Pipes and crashing waves at Arnastapi |
 | ||
There were numerous rock arches
|
Arnastapi sits at the foot of Mt. Snaefell, a 1500m volcano that forms the Westernmost part of the eponymous peninsula, along which we had been cycling for the last few days. We knew we probably wouldn't be able to summit it, as it is heavily glaciated, but wanted to hike at least part way up. We headed up the dirt road leading to the shoulder of the peak, planning on hiking from the summit of the pass, then descending down the north side of the pass to get to a town, food, and a bus back to Reykjavik. We began climbing the dirt road, and it was immediately hard. Parts too steep to ride. But views gradually improving to spectacular levels.
 |
| Nice view |
 |
| Nicer view |
 |
| The summit is on the right of the photo, hidden in cloud. Our goal was the rocky outcrop in the center. |
At the summit of the pass, we stopped for a late lunch. Then we ditched the bikes and packed layers, food and water into our backpacks, and headed up. We initially stayed on the lines of exposed rock which run upwards. When these ran out, we walked on the snow. On the way up, the views got even better. We could see the route we had cycled over previous days, giving an excellent new perspective at the end of the trip. Lucy and I did something similar last summer in Norway, with a hike on our penultimate day.
 |
| Boom. This is why we like mountains. |
 |
| Higher. The clouds were whipping along the side of the mountain, alternately revealing and exposing the view over the course several seconds. Photo by Postyn. |
The summit was very windy, and cold enough to be partly covered in rime ice, in August. On the way up we knew we were walking on glacial ice because beneath the snow it was bright blue, and there were occasional cracks -- the beginnings of crevasses. These can be seen in the photo above, as thin lines in the snow.
 |
| Buffeted by wind on our "summit," I had to keep one hand on my head to stop my hat blowing off! Excuse my finger in the image; mittens and wide-angle-lens-selfies don't go well together. |
After our outrageously fun descent -- a highlight of the trip -- we repacked our bikes and continued along the road. It was about 4:30 pm by this point. We had thought we were at the summit of the pass and thus were looking forward to a long descent. However, around the bend, the road continued upwards. Soon we came to a patch of snow covering the road, and had to dismount. This happened several times before we arrived, relieved, at the actual pass. Unfortunately, when we looked down the other side, all we could see was snow, disappearing into the clouds.
While there had been little snow on the way up, we now realized we were looking at the north-facing slope --considerably snowier. And we had been told earlier that this had been a record snow year for Iceland. 8m in some places. But still, a pass of this altitude closed in August? There were faint car tracks through the snow, so we set off on foot to see if we could follow them to the other side of the snow patch.However, the visibility was extremely poor. Without our own footprints to follow back, it would have been very easy to get lost. In all, we spent an hour following various tracks across the snow, including a faint set of bicycle tires. We still hadn't found the other edge of the snow, and it was 6:30pm. We didn't fancy a night on the snow, so returned to the bikes, and headed back the way we came.
 |
| Faint tire tracks visible during a brief break in the cloud cover. The spike on the skyline at the right of the image is where we climbed. Photo is Postyn's |
Once down, I noticed a sign at the base of the road saying "impassable." Whoops. But it was a grand adventure in any case!
Concerned to make some distance before camping, we kept riding. Postyn led at a tough pace. I struggled to keep up, and by 9:00, after probably 12 hours on the move, was ready to camp anywhere. Unfortunately, we were passing through Snaefell National Park, where camping is forbidden, and in any case the land on both sides was nearly bare lava. Around 9:30 we found a spot to camp, with the summit of Snaefellsjokull cloud free and still in the sun above us.
 |
| Campsite at the foot of Snaefellsjokull. Photo by Postyn. |
How fitting of Iceland that one of the best day's adventure of my life ended with the worst meal of my life.
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
Bike Touring Iceland: Days 6 and 7
Day 6: Bodadalur to Landbrotalaug
Day 7: Landbrotalaug to Lysahúll
In the morning, we biked west, alongside Hvammafjördur.
 |
| Biking next to Hvammsfjördur |
It turned to dirt, and after about 25km, we turned inland and began climbing.
 |
| Beautiful, empty dirt climbing over the Snaefell peninsula |
As we descended the other side, we were on the lookout for some lava caves shown on our map. There were many signs which we found difficult to interpret (never mind pronounce!). At one of them, we discovered this carnage of raw eggs. All over my backpack.
In the end, we probably went straight past the lava caves, but there was no missing the weird lava formations lower in the valley.
 |
| Wild lava towers flank the road |
We turned onto a side road and followed it onto a jagged lava field carpeted in yellow colored moss.
 |
| Moss lining a volcanic caldera |
We spent an hour walking around, including exploring some shallow but incredibly sharp caves, and descending into the cone of an obvious volcano.
From there we continued down to the coast, where we were looking for a natural geothermal pool we knew to be in the vicinity (recommended to us by a German family we had met a few days previously). After several wrong turns we found it. However the pool is very small, big enough for only 3 or 4 people, and was occupied by some icelandic folks. We resolved to wait it out. We biked off to find water, and meanwhile, a string of cars arrived! There were thus about a dozen people people waiting. Whoops. Some of them went over to a second (less cool!) pool we hadn't seen, but many left when they saw the crowds. We were committed, so got out our stove and began cooking dinner. After about half an hour, the Icelanders were ready to leave, and there was no one besides us waiting. We crossed the stream to the pool, carrying our partially cooked dinner, and got in.
 |
| Cooking dinner in a natural geothermal pool! |
The pool is a perfect hot tub temperature, and is actually formed of a sunken lava bubble (air bubble in volcanic rock) about 4ft deep. The opening of the pool is only about 4 feet across, but it widens under the surface. To the east and west, the sides of the valley rose up to glacially-carved peaks. A perfect spot for dinner.
 |
| Selfie |
In the morning, we headed west along the coast, stopping at Gerduberg to check out some very cool lava columns. We also found delicious blueberries along the base of the wall.
Once again, we were tempted to climb, but limited ourselves to chimneying up between a column and the main wall from which it had separated. 
From there we continued west, into a headwind, but were blessed with some sunshine! Our first since the morning we arrived in Reykjavik. We stopped at Okelda spring, which produces naturally carbonated water. The rationale for this stop was that we had just about run out of water purification drops, so needed to rely on trustworthy water sources. We rode fast on good pavement towards the naturally carbonated Lysahúll hot springs, and got there in the early evening, just in time to visit. The whole day we rode with dramatic light at views of mountains to our right. In the distance we caught a glimpse of Snaefellsjokull, the volcano at the end of the peninsula.
We were looking forward to the facilities of this more developed hot spring. By facilities, we meant showers. Getting wet is different from getting clean. Unfortunately, it was closed early on Sundays! We filled our water bottles at a beautiful stream coming straight off of the mountains, and then found a spot to camp, with a stunning view.
 |
| Windy but pretty! |
Bike Touring in Iceland: Day 4 and 5
Day 4: Húsafell Valley to Somewhere-on-Rt-60
Day 5: Somewhere-on-Rt-60 to Bodadalur
The aim of day four was two-fold. First, to make a good distance to Bodadalur, where we would finally be able to find a supermarket. Second, to avoid cycling on Rt 1, the busy ring road.
After a bit of a leisurely morning, we continued alongside the river where we had camped. We appreciated that the road was smooth, and that we didn't have a headwind. It was also quite pretty.
We stopped at another waterfall, and then around lunchtime (which we ate outside a very small church, which we calculated would seat around 30 people), turned off onto dirt for a long "shortcut" that would largely bypass Rt 1. This was a really excellent decision, the reasons for which will follow.
First, it was excellent riding on empty dirt roads, through rugged hills.
Second, we passed a cool section of "organpipes," a type of hexagonal volcanic rock which forms naturally in some places. We spent some time messing around on them, wishing we could climb them.
Third, as we emerged from the hills, we spotted a house. Said house appeared to be empty, and had a hot tub out back. On an impulse, I jumped off the bike, and put my hand to the side of the tub -- it was hot. The house was empty (unfurnished) but since heat and electricity are basically free in Iceland, due to abundant geothermal resources, no-one had bothered to turn the hot tub off! So we stripped ourselves and the cover from the tub and spent almost an hour in somebody's hot tub. Such a luxury to be warm and relaxed.
We hit Rt 1 in the early evening, and went a mile or two along it before turning off, uphill, onto route 60. We offered a ride to two hitchhikers, but they turned us down. Instead we continued climbing looking for water and a spot to camp. Both were in scarce supply as the river in the valley was well below the road, with very steep banks. And both sides of the road were fenced off, meaning no (legal) wild camping. Eventually we were able to get down to the river where a smaller stream converged, and then just above there, found a secluded spot to camp, in our very own glacial valley!
Day 5: Somewhere-on-Rt-60 to Bodadalur
The aim of day four was two-fold. First, to make a good distance to Bodadalur, where we would finally be able to find a supermarket. Second, to avoid cycling on Rt 1, the busy ring road.
After a bit of a leisurely morning, we continued alongside the river where we had camped. We appreciated that the road was smooth, and that we didn't have a headwind. It was also quite pretty.
We stopped at another waterfall, and then around lunchtime (which we ate outside a very small church, which we calculated would seat around 30 people), turned off onto dirt for a long "shortcut" that would largely bypass Rt 1. This was a really excellent decision, the reasons for which will follow.
First, it was excellent riding on empty dirt roads, through rugged hills.
 |
| We had this section of dirt all to ourselves. Clearly Postyn took this photo... |
 |
| Perfect hand-sized crack. Just a bit green. |
 |
| There are other, more revealing versions of this photo, but I will keep things PG. |
 |
| Postyn down in the river taking artsy photos |
 |
| Like this |
 |
| But more like this |
 |
| Nothing like a private glacial valley for your campsite |
On the morning of day 5 we continued climbing up Rt 60, into the clouds. We then had a nice long descent, at the bottom of which we stopped for a snack, and consumed the last of our food. Here is Postyn describing what we had (turn your volume up):
Transcript: Free range granola [what the container said]: corn-nuts, sunflower seeds, almonds, Wasa [cracker] dust, granola dust, did I say dried cranberries? All it's missing is some olive oil [the only other food item we had left!]
We then proceeded to Bodadalur, and successfully shopped for another 4 days of food. However, Bodadalur, despite being one of the main population centers in the area, only had one smallish food shop. Prices were about 25% higher than in Reykjavik, and nowhere in town had stove fuel, which we were running out of, but we had no choice but to continue with what we had.
For lunch, at this point quite late in the afternoon, we were ravenous. We made an incredibly weird rendition of the english classic baked beans, cheese and eggs on toast. The toast was just bread, and we cooked the eggs simply by mixing them with the several cans of beans, and then heating. Unfortunately, this meant we had no way of telling if they were cooked. And the entire concoction was quite mealy. It in fact tasted very strange. With copious amounts of cheese melted in, and bread to eat it with, it was palatable, but not much more than that. It took us many bites to realize that the mixture looked and tasted similar to mashed sweet potato. Not very tasty mashed sweet potato.
We headed back the way we had come for a few miles, before heading off west onto the north coast of Snaefell peninsula, where we found a nice campsite by a gently flowing river. We spent the evening fixing my bottom bracket again (yes, it had worked its way loose again, after only a couple of days!) and skipping stones. As a result of overly enthusiastic skipping, we had a sore shoulder each for the rest of the trip. Whoops. We had a light dinner of bouillon cube soup as we were still in recovery from our huge, late lunch.
 |
| Dental hygiene and a hint of color at sunset (Photo courtesy of Postyn) |
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Bike Touring in Iceland: Day 3
Day 3: The Kaldidalsvegur
I think this third day of riding really epitomized what we wanted out of a bike tour in Iceland. We had made the decision to keep going into the interior despite my bike woes, and that we didn't have much leeway in terms of provisions. We were heading into the harsh Icelandic interior. And it turned out to be a tough day, but rewarding in proportion to that difficulty. There was certainly some type II fun (fun once you're done).
We woke up early in our emergency cabin after a somewhat fitful night, disrupted by the rattling of the roof and walls during gusts. We headed out from the cabin in search of water, knowing that there would not be any for about 35km. It was cold -- we were wearing almost all the clothing we had, and a light drizzle began to fall. We set off in earnest at around 7:30, straight into a strong headwind.
The dirt road deteriorated, and the drizzle turned to steady rain. While the road was never steep, it climbed gradually in consistent rolling hills, and the wind was blowing 30-40mph. At times, we were blown to the side of the road by gusts. For several hours, we plodded on; I never left my easiest gears, even when going downhill! The headwind was strong enough to blow us to a standstill if we ever stopped pedaling. We pushed our bikes up steeper sections, at grades that would have been easy cycling without the wind. The rain continued, and we got cold. Numb hands and feet, and chilled bodies. Keeping our energy up required food, but food required stopping, and we were too cold to stop. So except for a couple quick breaks, we pressed on.
As we progressed into the interior, volcanic calderas rose up to the left and right, and eventually we began riding alongside the enormous Langjokull ice cap. Up above, we glimpsed the tongues of calving glaciers. The landscape became entirely in greyscale. Grey skies, white snow, black rock and grey dirt.
It took us until lunchtime to cycle the 15km to the highest point of the Kaldidalur. Our average speed for the morning was 6kph, or less than 4mph, not including breaks. We were incredibly relieved to see the top, because it signaled the start of our gradual decent, and because the 15ft high rock pile marking the pass provided the only shelter from the wind we had seen since leaving the hut. We were both wet and cold. Its funny that the two coldest times of my life have both been with Postyn! The other was a very long, cold day a couple of years ago while attempting the Presidential Range traverse in New Hampshire's White Mountains, along with Lucy and our friend Sonja. But the Kaldidalur takes the cake. We ate lunch huddled in the lee of the rock pile, taking breaks every couple of minutes to jump around as we felt our bodies chill rapidly. Excuse the funky double-image below: Blogger doesn't seem to handle video very smoothly. But the left one works!
As we began the second half of the Kaldidalsvegur, the rain petered out, and the riding, being net downhill, became easier. However, our bodies had coldness-hangovers, and descent is always colder than ascent. Fingers and toes were still problematically cold. We rode on, getting better glimpses of Langjokull glacier. As we descended, we began to discern colors other than grey/black/white on the horizon, and eventually were greeted by an excellent view of the Husafell valley, shown in the photo at the top of the page. Proceeding lower, we came alongside a river. It was nice to see water in liquid form, and as far as rivers go, it was a pretty one.
 |
| Descent from the Kaldidalur |
We woke up early in our emergency cabin after a somewhat fitful night, disrupted by the rattling of the roof and walls during gusts. We headed out from the cabin in search of water, knowing that there would not be any for about 35km. It was cold -- we were wearing almost all the clothing we had, and a light drizzle began to fall. We set off in earnest at around 7:30, straight into a strong headwind.
 |
| The Kaldidalur valley skirts the huge Langjokull ice cap, which is shrouded in cloud above the mountains visible here |
It took us until lunchtime to cycle the 15km to the highest point of the Kaldidalur. Our average speed for the morning was 6kph, or less than 4mph, not including breaks. We were incredibly relieved to see the top, because it signaled the start of our gradual decent, and because the 15ft high rock pile marking the pass provided the only shelter from the wind we had seen since leaving the hut. We were both wet and cold. Its funny that the two coldest times of my life have both been with Postyn! The other was a very long, cold day a couple of years ago while attempting the Presidential Range traverse in New Hampshire's White Mountains, along with Lucy and our friend Sonja. But the Kaldidalur takes the cake. We ate lunch huddled in the lee of the rock pile, taking breaks every couple of minutes to jump around as we felt our bodies chill rapidly. Excuse the funky double-image below: Blogger doesn't seem to handle video very smoothly. But the left one works!
As we began the second half of the Kaldidalsvegur, the rain petered out, and the riding, being net downhill, became easier. However, our bodies had coldness-hangovers, and descent is always colder than ascent. Fingers and toes were still problematically cold. We rode on, getting better glimpses of Langjokull glacier. As we descended, we began to discern colors other than grey/black/white on the horizon, and eventually were greeted by an excellent view of the Husafell valley, shown in the photo at the top of the page. Proceeding lower, we came alongside a river. It was nice to see water in liquid form, and as far as rivers go, it was a pretty one.
 | ||||||
| This valley runs to the foot of the Langjokull glacier. Exposed rock and wide valley seem almost like a tidal estuary.
Our route stayed near the river as we continued down the valley, which was much more sheltered from the wind. In places, it ran through strange, geometric volcanic formations. Unfortunately the road is heavily traveled by tourists driving up for a glimpse of Langjokull, meaning the dirt surface was heavily washboarded. We strove constantly to find the least bumpy path, but it was all pretty bumpy.
We had a late afternoon snack in Husafell, which is not much more than a hotel and a few other buildings, including that of a company that will drive you by snowcat onto the Langjokull glacier. A table outside their office provided a good place to warm our toes, which had stayed numb. From there we followed the river on (finally) pavement. We were on the lookout for a place to camp, but instead found Braunafoss, a cool waterfall/rapid. Postyn and I agreed it was probably not inner-tube-able! Or in fact runnable at all, in any white-water craft. We could see that the valley ahead was farmed, and were concerned about finding a camp spot. Wild camping in Iceland is very easy, as there it is a constitutional right. But not on farmland. However, pretty soon we found a spot off the side of the road, by the river. Perfect.
We cooked dinner hungrily. Postyn can be seen below acting as a human wind-block for the stove. The JetBoil (an excellent graduation gift to me and Lucy from her mom) was amazing during this trip, but it does suffer in breezy conditions.
Fooood! It wasn't really Chacos weather, but our shoes were still wet from the morning.
By the time we were done with dinner, we were pretty exhausted. In fact, Postyn almost fell asleep outside the tent, when he decided to test the comfort of the springy grass we had pitched the tent on. I think I will always remember this day of cycling, and peg it as one of the top two of the trip, despite the cold and rain, and exhausting headwinds. I guess that's the thing with type II fun...
More soon.
-- Adie
|
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Bike Touring in Iceland: Day 2
Day 2: Thingvallavatn to Kaldidalur
Day two began with skyr (Icelandic-style yoghurt, well known to all Williams students due to a local dairy that produces it) and granola for breakfast, and then a stretching session for the sake of my calves and quads.
 |
| Nothing like a stretch with a view |
We then headed towards Thingvellir, a mega tourist site. On the way, I discovered that my bike's bottom bracket was quite loose, something I had never seen before. Thingvellir is geologically significant because the separation of the North America and European continental plates is rendered visible through deep rifts in the landscape. Historically, it was also the location of the Allthing, the Icelandic parliament, which ran continuously from 900-and-something to 1800-and-something, until Danish colonization. It has since been reinstated, making it both the oldest, and longest running parliament in the world. In any case, it is an easy bus ride from Reykjavik, and the place was literally crawling with tourists. A google search will provide you with both more info and photos. We did not linger.
From Thingvellir, we headed towards the interior of Iceland. The bulk of Iceland's interior is a barren, glaciated desert. All of a sudden, the landscape got BIG. In the image below, the haziness in the distance os not rain or cloud, but dust. When it's windy the air fills with dust from the interior which is blown towards the coast. And its almost always windy!
 |
| Postyn checks out a rift north of Thingvellir |
At lunch, near where the photo above was taken, we sat behind a berm to get out of the wind, which was steadily building. As we rode on, the road changed to dirt, and the landscape became gradually less green.
 |
| One of the few photos with both of us in it! Note volcano in background. |
By late afternoon, the wind was really picking up. Furthermore, I noticed that my loose bottom bracket had worked itself a couple of millimeters looser over the course of the day. I knew I lacked the tools to remove my cranks and tighten it, but thought in an emergency I might be able to work something out. However, by 5:00 we were faced with a decision, the last intersection before the beginning of the Kaldidalur. This would be our last chance to turn back to find a bike shop. If we went on, we would have to improvise, and if that failed, hitch a ride out of the interior, before our food ran out.
After working out how much food we had, we decided to press on. Ahead we knew was an emergency shelter where we planned to cook dinner; given the problems we had had with the gas cylinder the previous night, we were worried we wouldn't be able to light the stove in the wind.
Within a kilometer, I found myself unable to pedal. my bottom bracket had worked loose enough to rub against the crank. We then walked the last of the way to the emergency hut.
 |
| The emergency hut was in the perfect spot |
I have to say, it really came in handy to know my way around my own bike so well. I guess that's one benefit of building your own bike that you don't think about until it matters. After much frustration, and correspondingly increased temerity, I was able to remove my cranks. Normally this is done with a crank puller, which essentially pulls the crank away from the bottom bracket axle. I didn't have one, so I used a rock. I literally hit the crank arms with a rock until they came off. I started with a small rock, then a medium rock, then quite a big rock. Eventually, both crank arms were off -- all that remained was to retighten the bottom bracket. Normally this requires a splined tool to tighten the cups, which I also didn't have. After unscrewing the bottom bracket, I was able to notch one side with the file on Postyn's Leatherman, so that I could tighten it with a screwdriver and my ever-useful rock. However, the other side wouldn't file (being steel rather than aluminium). We dealt with this by wedging Postyn's screwdriver between the splines and the axle, and turning the bottom bracket that way.
 |
| Unstuck between a rock and a Leatherman |
The moral of the day was...carry a crank puller and a bottom bracket tool!
