Bikepacking Iceland - Part One
It was Sunday July 28, 2019 and we had just finished The Rift Gravel Race the previous day. Our equipment was worked very hard from the 200km of dirt, rain and dust. The people at Midgard Base Camp were great hosts, letting us store our bikes in their garage, where we also took the opportunity to clean and tune them before heading out on the bikepacking trip to the highlands.
At 2 a.m. I received a call from a doctor in the USA about my father. He had been hospitalized right before I flew to Iceland. Things were not looking good and leaving later that morning started to feel impossible. We changed plans and decided to take a bus to Skógafoss, then ride to Vik via the abandoned DC airplane on the beach at Sólheimasandur so I could stay in range for cell phone service.
The Skógafoss waterfall was packed with tourists, so we quickly changed our clothes and hit the road towards the abandoned airplane. It was a miracle to get the below photo with so few tourists in the frame.
Riding on Highway 1 is not pleasant at the end of July. Drivers are courteous, but the traffic is non-stop in this area. We were delighted to find the parking lot at the trailhead for the path to the airplane. A few years ago they banned automobile traffic to the plane itself. Now visitors must walk 2 miles on a path, or take a licensed shuttle bus to the site. Riding plus-sized mountain bikes on the path was by far the best means to get there.
Things really seemed to be falling apart with my father, and this was weighing heavily on my mind. My mood was pretty somber, and I was tired as hell from not sleeping the night before.
We really wanted to avoid riding on the highway to Vik. Google maps was showing a few rivers on the beach between the airplane and town, but we decided to ride all the way to the coast in an attempt to cross the nearest river. What looked like an innocent river from afar was actually a deadly torrent of water, violently slicing through the earth at a relentless pace. Touching that water was a death wish. It was time to retreat back to the road.
We were treated to some incredible scenery on the road to Vik.
As we descended into town the weather was deteriorating, with a fierce wind making it difficult to ride. Gusts of 60 miles per hour threw debris on us as we got camp set up.
Thankfully the Smiðjan Brewhouse was open so we could escape from the weather, get some beer, and fill up on some warm food.
After dinner we rode around Vik, eventually passing by a soccer field to get on to the beach to check out the views.
The light was still so bright at 10pm, but the wind was getting quite nasty. It was going to make for an interesting evening of camping. As we returned back to camp, dozens of more campers had set up, and the scene had quickly changed to a typical European camping situation with tents stacked on tents.
The news coming from back home about my father had not improved, and the weather forecast was calling for a few days of abhorrent wind and rain. The future of our bikepacking trip was looking precarious.
Next up, Part Two!