June 25, 2013
Geysir to Eyar Farm: longest day in the saddle
The original plan was to head north out of Geysir onto the cross-Iceland road known as Kjolur (pronounced Scholur). I was feeling a bit dubious about that as I wanted to cross in less than four days, and people in the campground who had arrived from that direction were telling me that would be a tight schedule. I went to the restaurant across the road to check the weather, and the forecast was for rain and high winds for the next three or four days. The sky was alreadt beginning to cloud over, so it was back to the tent for a hurried packing up. I finished just as the first drops began to fall. I decided I wouldn't risk a crossing this time, and events were to prove that the right decision. I retraced my route to the place where I had first seen Sue the day before and continued in the direction of Laugarvatn. The rain had settled in for good now, but the wind was at my back, so I just rolled along easy through the fields and sheep pastures. I spied a cyclist coming the other way and he signalled me to stop. I pulled over to his side of the road, and we exchanged info about conditions ahead. He was determined to go over the Kjolur route, and was prepared to take up to nine days to do it. I gave him my version of the weather report, and that didn't seem to bother him, although he wondered if there might be sheltered places to cook. As far as I know, there are not, not even at Geysir, although there one can set up behind the shower block at least. Not much help if its raining, which by this time it was and not half-heartedly either. I wished him well and continued onward to Laugarvatn. As I entered the village, I spotted a cafe/hotel and stopped for coffee and cake. I lingered over this while contemplating routes. It seemed a good idea to take advantage of the tailwind, so I chose a route toward Thingvellir and the national park. Cake finished, I asked the proprietor for advice. He seemed to think that it would be better to wait a few days until the weather got better, but it was still early and I didn't think the rain was that bad. At the far side of Laugarvatn was the turn off to Thingvellir, which launched me onto a three km climb. Aided by the wind, I managed it quite easily.
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I pulled off the road to answer nature at the top of a long downhill toward Thingvallavatn, the lake that borders the national park. With the wind at my back, I screamed along downhill waving to two up-bound cyclists, who did not look like they were enjoying either the hill or the wind. Fortunately, the rain had all but ended, so they didn't have to fight that, too.
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The road continued to the right in the photo above, and eventually got me to the visitor center, where I decided to stop for lunch. Lunch consisted of two ham sandwiches, an orange and two small candy bars, washed down with Coca Cola. THe road away from Thinvellir rose immediately, no surprise because Thinvellir is the place where the European and North American tectonic plates are separating. At the top of the the hill was a little rest stop/ picnic place where a lot of little stone cairns had been put up. Iceland if full of legends about "the hidden people" who some call trolls and/or elves. It is to them that the piles are attributed, or so said a French film crew I met there filming a documentary on Iceland.
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It was at this point that I made a navigational error. I got off track by continuing on the paved road instead of taking the first gravel road to the right. The climb had ended, the wind was favorable and, lo, the sun had come out. So I wasn't really paying attention to the route. This probably cost me 30 km extra, but what the heck, I get lost a lot on tour and besides weren't the weather reports wrong? The road wound down toward the coast, and in bright sunshine I coasted along enjoying the view and singing to myself (Grateful Dead tunes, mostly). When I got to the sea at Mosfellbaer I was only 15 km from Reykjavik. I could have gone into the city by turning left, but instead I turned right and began looking for a place to spend the night. The first campsite I checked had no facilities. I tried two guesthouses, but they were both full. I got lost again looking for a third guesthouse after passing the entrance to the Hvalfjordur tunnel (bicycles NOT allowed) and turning into the wind again. Finally, I spotted a sign for a campground in the direction of Medafellsvatn. Medafellsvatn is a pretty lake with a small farming cum vacation community on it. At Kjos Cafe (Eat at Kjos) I found the owner of the campground and she showed me where I could pitch my tent, shower, and get something to drink. I went back to the cafe after getting tino clean clothes, ordered a beer and a burger (enormous) with fries. After that, I called it a night and off to bed. Just as I was dozing off, I heard the patter of rain on the tent.
Today's ride: 100 km (62 miles)
Total: 140 km (87 miles)
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