Iceland Divide
Akureyri to Dyngjufell
I started riding south out of Akureyri on day one. Mostly on pavement, it was a short 50 mile day riding in sunshine. Stopping to camp south of Godafoss the rain started and didn’t stop until I got up to get going day two. Another reasonably easy day on the bike riding approximately 40 miles and gaining elevation up through farmland and into some desolate lava fields. Day three was shorter in distance but came with a significant headwind and challenging terrain. Navigating lava fields would be impossible without GPS. Even with GPS I find myself getting lost and completely disoriented dragging my bike up and over lava rocks to get back on track, of which there isn’t one. It’s a strange feeling hike-a-biking through lava fields when there doesn’t appear to be a clear route. It all looks the same. What you think is the right way turns out the be the way you came and the way you came turns out to be the direction you’re supposed to go. The shorter distance was certainly welcome but the lava fields were a significant challenge and seriously time consuming.
After about 12 hours on the bike I finally made it to Dyngjufell backcountry hut where I planned to sleep for the night. It was certainly welcome relief from the wind. I got to bed about 8pm knowing I had a really big day the following day - I was joined by three hikers at about 10pm. I spoke to them in the morning and we had a laugh about the weather and getting lost in the lava fields. Two men from Germany were planning to hike to Reykjavik and a woman from France was doing a four day loop and this was the furthest south she would be on her route. The two German blokes were struggling and their feet were really torn up. They had a huge hike ahead of them and this was just the beginning. Regardless they were in good spirits when I left early the following day although they spoke about how daunted they were by the task ahead. I too had similar thoughts but my body was healthy and I was feeling excited to get on the bike.
Positive thoughts flowed after enjoying catching up with some people and sharing stories from the trail. I set out early in the morning day four and had a couple river crossings to get things going. It was about knee deep and I was glad I opted to take off my shoes. It was a steady climb for the first five hours or so til I topped out at around midday. As soon as I reached the saddle and looked out across the moon-like landscape the wind smashed me in the face. It was so strong riding in to it was extremely difficult to make any real progress. Over the next handful of hours I would alternate between riding a short burst and pushing. Later in the day, seriously in the middle of nowhere a police truck crawled its way through the lava field I was navigating. Iceland’s interior terrain and weather is rough on just about everything, including motorized transport. Iceland’s trucks, the ones designed to travel in the highlands look more like monster trucks, huge wheels and everything. The police pull up and we talked about my route. I was informed that four trucks had been caught in a river and washed downstream and that my route needed to be adjusted because of the river crossing I would normally be able to walk across would be impassable.
Police intervention
Unfortunately the route the police suggested which would begin the following day was a hiking route only. I figured I would simply ride the hiking path but, given how remote this route is there is no path and the route is marked by wooden markers spaced about 50 meters apart.
A seriously tough day 4 with a lot of pushing. At one point during the day I couldn’t see the ground the wind was ripping sand across the landscape.
The last 4 hours or so a combination of unridable terrain and near unridable terrain but the route skirts the glacier and was incredibly beautiful and dramatic. After 12 hours on and off the bike I finally reached Kistufell, a little backcountry hut that feels a million miles from anywhere, from everywhere. It was incredible. The hut sits right on the North end of the Vatnajokull National Park. When I looked through the log book inside, the previous entry five days earlier mentioned the place looked like Tatooine.
Welcome progress
Up at 6am to try and beat the wind and the riding was great early morning Day 5. Boosted by the knowledge that Kistufell was the highest point on my ride I made good time and enjoyed working my way through glacial runoff, sandy flats and the odd lava field. A couple hours in and I started to descend here and there loving making good ground in perfect conditions. The views were spectacular as I skirted around Vatnajokull Glacier. I stopped for a little climb to grab a selfie on this volcanic rock jutting out of the ground. I was feeling great. I guess the arms out in a somewhat hug the world stance is a decent indicator.
About midday was where things took a turn. This is the point I was told to alter my route by the police. They said I must head directly south at the bridge instead of along the road. Originally it’s at this point where I join a jeep road and from here on out should make pretty good time as the road conditions are decent enough for your standard 4wd. The alternate route is a hiking trail which is about 10 miles longer, but as it isn’t marked on my map or my GPS I wasn’t aware of the vertical.
I was still in two minds about altering my route. But when I reached the bridge, at the time, it made sense. The river was moving along pretty good. The two options; Cross the bridge and take the hiking trail. Don’t cross the bridge, take the road and cross the river without a bridge about 8 miles down the road.
Things take a turn
Despite seeing the river it was a tough decision because I knew the hardest part of the ten days were supposed to be behind me and I would finally be on double track suitable for most cars albeit a little bumpy. The alternative however was an unknown.
About midday on day five I cross the bridge take the alternative and head directly in to the wind. It’s steady going, with a slight altitude gain. Over the next four hours the wind picks up. Loose sand blows across the desert floor as I switch between riding and pushing.
The trail forks and I head right and push up a steep incline for about an hour and reach a vast overlook. The hiking only trail in front of me is marked with little yellow wood markers every 50m or so.
The trail starts with a really steep slide/fall down a scree slope. I’m mostly dragging my bike with the brakes on as I slide down the slope. Once at the bottom, i’m met with an incredibly vast landscape, about a half km in glacial runoff makes its way downhill. When I reach it, the water is deep enough to warrant taking shoes and socks off. I cross, put shoes and socks on because it’s insanely cold, walk a short distance, take shoes and socks off, carry bike across the water, put shoes and socks on repeat.
About 9 hours in and finally, shoes and socks permanently on. Although my feet needed a wash anyway. But i’m back to pushing up hill. It wanders down and up for about another hour before becoming extremely steep and soft. The smell of sulphur is in the air and warm geothermal spring water runs down small canyons in the side of the mountain. Florescent algae and hyper green grass is an extremely odd contrast to the desert, moon-like landscape. The earth is soft and the climbing is really slow going. About two hours later I reach the saddle. I really hoped I would find a trail I could ride down and in to town. Unfortunately it couldn’t be further from it.
From the mountain pass looking over, wind rips up a massive canyon. I’m presented with a boulder field. What looks like a landslide or avalanche at one point is mostly car sized rocks. I carried my bike through the boulder field and on the far side was met with ice and snow. The cost of falling would be quite critical as the canyon drops away about 300m to my right. Without any option I make my way across the snow and ice. I lose the trail and spend a while finding the markers again but eventually do.
Back on a vague trail I continue along the top of this massive canyon as cloud moves in making visibility quite difficult. Being in the cloud makes it feel kinda like it is raining too. That really damp air type rain, without being rain.
As I continue the trail disappears and i’m back to navigating by the markers. The trail is constant, up and down, up and down right along the top of the canyon which drops away to the right into nothingness.
Light fades and the cloud gets thicker. I’m able to ride some walk some but it’s slow going. About fourteen hours in and it’s a real struggle to find the markers. I’m really keen to get off this mountain though so I push on hoping the trail will take me down sooner than later.
Battling for another two hours and it’s late, i’m completely in the cloud and seeing the next marker is impossible. I get lost on a number of occasions and end up walking around trying to find the marker I had come from to get my bearings again before trying to find the next one. Eventually I decide to leave my bike so I don’t have to drag that around on my marker search. I walk into the cloud and leave a large rock to find my way back. Find the next marker, go back, get my bike and push on to the next marker and repeat.
About 16.5 hours in this day and I decide it’s simply too dark and too dangerous to keep going. I set the tent up quickly eat something and get in. It’s so windy the tent is pressed against my face and it flaps incessantly. It’s raining and that soon presses through the fabric and on to me. My sleeping bag is wet, i’m wet and cold and I try to lie there and rest but the noise, the wet, the cold aren’t great for catching some z’s. I get up and put my wet weather gear on so now i’m wearing everything I have. I get back in my sleeping bag and try to get some sleep but it’s simply too cold and wet. I spend a number of hours shivering in my sleeping bag as rain turns to sleet.
Somewhere around 3ish, 4am shivering in my sleeping bag i’m thinking if I get any colder i’m going to have to get up and keep going even if it is still dark. Although I was really cold and wet, it wasn’t panic stations but if things got colder i’d have to make a move. About an hour or so later it was just light enough to pack up and get moving.
All packed up I was able to do some riding mixed with scree sliding to make my way down the mountain. A number of hours of this and the descent turns from scree to grass. Back on my bike riding, I spend a couple hours picking my way across the boggy grass with plenty of stream crossings thrown in.
Finally back on level ground and the markers direct me along the mountainside so much so my never ending headwind ends and for the first time in six days i’ve got a tailwind. The markers end and a sign marks the beginning / end of the trail and i’m joined up with the road I should have been on the previous day. Riding the road for a couple miles I find my way to the ranger station which was my destination for the previous night.
I lay down on the grass out the front and did a little thousand yard stare for I don’t know how long.
While I was spacing out on the grass, a group of motorbikers rolled through. There was about 20 or so of them and one of the blokes asked me how I was going. I said I was “alright, but a bit beat up.” He said “Yeah, you don’t look so good. Are you going south?” I said “That’s the plan, how is it?” He replied well, I just spoke to the ranger and weather is coming in and I don’t think it’s going to be possible. But head in and speak to the ranger and see what options you’ve got.”
I walked in to the rangers hut and an older woman with a big wool beanie on and long grey hair in two braids that ran down the front of her woolen cable knit sweater greeted me. She said she was expecting me as she had been in contact with the police. I guess I wasn’t looking my best and while she made me a hot chocolate she said she was amazed I had made it over on a bike. I told her no one should take that route on a bike and she certainly agreed and said she needed to ensure police weren’t sending people that way. Weather was coming in however and as it turns out she recommended that I stay there for at least two days for it to pass as they were expecting gale force winds. I was also asked about two Italian riders that were supposed to be in front of me but I had never seen them which seemed to worry her as she hadn’t either.
While I drank my hot chocolate, one of the guys from the motorbike crew came in and asked what my plan was. When I said I wasn’t too keen on waiting around for a couple days to see if the weather was going to improve he offered a ride north. They had a support truck I could ride in and although it’d be a days drive I could get myself out of a pretty tough spot. I decided to go with the motorbike crew and head north, putting an end to my north to south bike pack trip. Although I was really disappointed I felt like it was the right thing to do.