Day 6 - Black desert

I woke up feeling a bit wierd. My face and eyes particularly were extremely puffy…  not a good luck unless you have paid thousands for collagen injections. Why pay all that money when chronic dehydration will do it for you! . 

It was clear to me that even though I'd had half a day yesterday I was not managing to drink enough.  I was sweating out way more than was going in. Useful in some ways as I didn't need to have any 'jungle wees'  but clearly not the best option for my body in general. 

I resolved to drink more today as I potentially had a hell of a day ahead. From Alftavatn, my intention was to go as far north as I possibly could with a possible destination of either the mountain huts at Landmannalaugar or wild camping at the point where my body said no more for the day. I didn't really worry whether it took one or 2 days to get to Landmannalaugar as I have decided that the road north presents too many issues in terms of time as I have had varying reports of it basically being black sand, which as you know if difficult to cycle in, even without an unloaded bike. I'm also running out of provisions, which I may or may not be able to stock up on in the near future. 

Besides its a holiday and as well as killing myself on my bike, I decided I like the highlands and I may stick around this part for a few days of hiking and unloaded biking. But we will see. A lot depends on time…  but as always flexibility is the key. 

Anyway back to today. 

The ranger in the hut before Alftavatn told me to take the west track when I had a choice today. He said the East track was awful and very steep. This information was backed up by an article I'd read by a bikepacker. The West road was far longer though as it went around rather than straight through. 

So thats the info I had but I had a way to go before making a decision. 

The morning was once again very misty, the view covered with cloud and it was a little chilly. I set off into the mist on what was actually a reasonable road. Certainly cyclable for the most part. I climbed up and up eventually reaching the first high point of many today. It was about an hour of cycling and I had not eaten breakfast again, keen to get going on what was a long day. At the top, the sun had started to burn of the cloud and mist and I sat down to eat a cheese sandwich (thank god for processed cheese slices) and a wafer chocolate bar given to me to try by the lady in the cafe at Hella, which was bloody good. The view opened up to reveal the mountains in all their glory, the green on the hills and the red and yellows in the mountains beyond. 

I sat there and felt on top of the world, raised up to the level of the gods. It was a awe inducing sight, the aeons of time laid bare for me to gaze on and wonder at. 

It was so peaceful sitting in the sunshine, with not a care in the world at that point in time, aching arse and legs faded to the background as I sat in contemplation. 

But I could not sit all day so reluctantly got to my feet and back on my bike…  what was in store further down the road….. 

First up…  River crossings…  it was one river with several channels to cross. I sat down, took of my boots and socks, tied them. around my neck and put my water shoes on. Off I went through the freezing cold, knee deep water…  one, two, three, four (How many Rivers must I cross?).. ok five! I finally got to the other side, reversed the shoe process and proceeded up the steep climb out of the valley… 

This was a brutal climb that had me pushing up and having to use all my body weight behind the bike to get it up, the hill was so steep. Of course whilst doing that a bunch of cars were trying to come down. I stopped the second one to ask about the road ahead. The usual question of where are you from and we got to chatting. One of the guys in the car was Irish, who had lived in Basingstoke for a few years, whilst the other was Icelandic and so could provide useful info on the route ahead. He too advised the West route and reassured me that although it was a small track and not a numbered mountain road it was in pretty good condition. He also suggested I go to the hut at Landmannahellir instead of Landmannalaugar as it was a bit closer. I was reassured about the road and went on with thanks to them. Then loads of cars came up from the bottom of the steep hill so I stood aside again as they passed. Several stopped and offered words of encouragement or just general astonishment at the task I had set myself. At this point I was having doubts about my sanity to but hey ho…  onwards and upwards (inevitably). 

Not much further on was the turn off from the main road to a track and I was surprised by the condition, in a good way. This 'track' was better quality and better for bikes than the main road. It was proper gravel…  ok with some stretches that were sandy and some that were rocky but nothing my Whyte bike couldn't handle.  At the top was basically a black sand desert. Desolate, barren of life and unfortunately extremely windy. So the nice flat, good gravel track became a headwind nightmare with dust devils being thrown up all the time.  Once past the plain, I was sheltered by the mountain sides a little, one of which was a deep hue of red, making a change in the scenery a little. Then one of the most fantastic downhills followed by a brutal uphill…  I wouldn't have wanted to be in a 4x4 coming down it was so steep. This became the pattern for the next many miles…  steep up, steep down. Not bad as the effort had a reward and the downhills were fantastic, except for the one or two bits that were so sketchy, I walked my bike down. But my god, it was energy sapping. The energy expended pushing my bike uphill was insane but there was no rest on the downhill as the whole body was poised to catch the skids on the gravel and brace for the bumps in the road. 

Bang…  I ran out of energy… 

Sat down and ate, knowing I was on. the final stretch of this west track until I got to the main road. 

Water must have more water… 

One more brutal uphill…  make that two…  but in general a downhill gradient… 

A few more rivers to wade through but nothing so deep I needed to do the shoe switch… 

One more spectacular downhill to go…  I can see the road…  and perhaps those huts on the hillside  are Landmannahellir! 

The downhill was my final reward for all the energy expended today, it was fast, a bit sketchy, but just about safe enough that it was fun…  I had made the main road, further than I thought I would really get today! 

One more river crossing…  and wet feet for the final couple of miles… 

After the perfect gravel of the track, the washboard on the road up to Landmannahellir was a bit of a bump back to earth…  literally and metaphorically. But I knew it wasn't far so gritted my teeth and peddled onwards.  As it came into view, the sun shone down revealling a nice little spot to place my tent. No signal again tonight but SPOT should tell you all that I'm safe! 

I set up my tent, paid to charge my powerbank back up and began to organise kit…  as I was doing so I noticed in the distance a herd of horses being driven back to their stables here. It was a nice sight to round off a good day.