Day 4 - Hard roads

 

The day began well. The sun was out and I was up and packed up reasonably early. I headed over to the shop in the petrol station over the road from the campsite and proceeded to spend money on provisions. Breakfast was a couple of bananas. So far so good. I headed out of town and turned north towards the mountains on a nice paved road. I passed sheep and horses grazing, nice little houses up on the hillside as well as the odd church peering from its lofty perch.

The wind was fair, non existent even and my mood was buoyant.

A few small climbs warmed up the legs  nicely and I rattled along. To my right stood Eyjafjallajökull in all its majestic glory, towering above the landscape, its glaciers shining in the morning sunshine. Lovely scenes and a good road... what more could you want in life. Of course all things must come to an end and the nice paved road gave way to gravel...

Washboard to be exact. Jarring, bone wrenching, energy sapping washboard. Little did I know that soon I would be wishing for a road as good as this!

On my left from the ridge gushed several waterfalls, each tumbling down the hillside with carefree abandon. I came to a parking place of one of the bigger ones and wondered over to have a look. The waterfall was known as the wimdow falls as the water could be seen coming down the chute through a series of rock windows which had been worn through over the ages. In 2010 when Eyjafjallajökull had exploded this chute had filled up with ash and hidden the waterfall from view but had now cleared to reveal itself again.

A short way up the road, things took a turn for the worse. The road condition became like that of a riverbed, difficult to ride, even on my 29 inch wheeled Whyte bike. I had to push through many sections of this flat road which grated spectacularly on my good mood until it had worn away. It was taking a long time to move forward and even the beautiful valley was no good distraction. Several times I was passed by 4x4 vehicles bouncing along and tearing up the road surface even more. I eventally passed the glacier of Eyjafjallajökull which was spilling down the mountain side on my right and turned my attention to the river running alongside me. On the other side of the river was Thosmork, the starting point of the Langevegur trail. I had done not many miles but was wondering if there was a place to ford the river over to thosmork as I was already knackered. To make matters worse, the wind had picked up and I was also climbing. The road surface made it impossible to ride many sections and so I reverted to hike a bike... it would not be the last time.

I hit the top of an incline and saw a 4x4 wend its way across the river bed, which as it was summer was largely exposed. I wanted to see if it could ford the river... alas no. It looked like there was no way across.

The 4x4 and its occupant came towards me and I flagged them down. I asked the nice americans in the car if there was a place to cross and they replied in the negative although there may be one back from. where I had come. They asked if there was anything I needed... food, a bug out ride? Tempting! By now. I had ridden about 20 miles which doesn't sound much but if you take into account the road conditions (some of the worst I have ever ridden), the wind, the loaded bike, my usual lack of proper food, it is no surprise that I already felt exhausted.

I declined the ride... regretfully... and vowed to continue onwards. They wished me well, handed me a trail bar and informed. me of a hut slightly closer than the one. I was originally aiming for, about 4km off my route they said. It was about 5 miles closer than the other hut so I thought maybe I would aim for that instead.

I went on, pushing uphill and cycling where I could. The valley that I was riding up was spectacular, high mountains on all sides, with red and black hued rock in. contrast to the stark white peaks. And so green. Moss and grass and small flowers everywhere, brought into life by the river running through.

On my left side towered a rock that looked a bit like Pride rock from the Lion King. There was another rock that looked like it had been launched from Eyjafjallajökull and just landed there.

By now I was a little delerious from the huge effort it had taken to get to this point, I was giggling to myself about small things and encouraging myself to keep going. I decided that my brand of cylcing should be called cyking, a ubiquitous mix of cycling and hiking. Or perhaps I had finally lost it!

I got to the high point with a shout and looked down onto the valley below. At once I was elated, the strain and struggle to get to this point was worth it, all the sweat and toil and aching legs. Without all those things, would I have felt such elation. I doubt it.

And then I left that lovely valley behind and swopped it for a slightly starker high plain.. the mountains seeming more imposing than welcoming. Black sand and gravel marked the route, but the cycling became slightly. easier, the road not quite so much of a struggle to move forward on.

Time however had beem ticking on and it was getting later quickly. I was not too worried because daylight stayed here for a long time into the evening, but the amount of hours I had been moving for with little food was becoming a problem... I bonked... big time. So I sat and stuffed some. food. down, washed it down with the dregs of coke I had beem saving for an emergency and looked at my route.  Plan A was about 10 miles away, that was the hut I had originally intended to go to, a distance of 40 miles for the day. In about 5 miles was the turnoff to the other hut, which would involve a couple of miles off my route and back towards where I had come from. It was not an easy choice. On the one hand Plan B was closer but it was mileage off route. Plan A was further and I had no odea what the road conditions would be like to get there... so I chose Plan B. Eventually I reached the turnoff, took a deep breath and followed the road round the mountain. The road was generally rideable but with so little energy left it seemed to take forever. The Langevegur trail crossed the road several times and when I was close to the hut, I took that trail because it offered a shorter route to the hut. My heart sank when I saw where the hut was... down! Good now, not good for tomorrow morning. Mayne Plan A would. have been better. I was so tired and all over body weary from the efforts that I stumbled down the steep path to the hut. It was full of tents!  I made my way over to the reception and past this group of people, several of whom seemed to be openly laughing at me! I was confused.... I may have beem dusty and trail weary but didn't see the need for open laughter. It made me uncomfortable to say the least and extremely pissed, off to say the most! I asked them what was so funny... the bike they replied. I wanted to say that I wasnt laughing at them for walking but took the polite route and told. them I was cycling the road. The whole incident on top of a very hard trail day left me not wanting to be there, amongst people like that but I wasn't or couldn't cycle further so went and found a slightly sloping spot and pitched my tent... done for the day. The elation had evaporated by those people's actions leaving a bitter taste to the day. Nonetheless, the nearly 40 miles I had done were some of the hardest. I had ever ridden through some lovely scenery. A few swear words in their general direction sufficed and I resolved to pack up early in the morning and head out of the place as speedily as the gradient would allow.

A nice meal of noodles with tomato soup was just the thing and I fell asleep to dreams of rough road and spectacular views!