August 13, 2000
Bridging The Distance
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During the night the wind increased to a gale threatening to blow the tent away. This morning the wind was still blowing strong: a crosswind that reduces my ride to walking pace. And with nothing much to see, like yesterday. With a mere 65 km to Landmanalargar, I was thinking, it may not be too hard a ride today. At 1 PM this chanced when Porisvatn (lake) come into view. The large green body of water contrast well with black hills. I lunch down a track at the water's edge after which, when I set off again, the wind calmed down.
Not far on the track to Landmanalargar split off, the F208, which must be the roughest road I've been on in Iceland. The whole way is deeply currugated without anywhere at the side to ride and avoid the constant jarring. In the powdery grit I could see bike tracks of cycletourists snaking from side to side looking for a path that is less currugated. This turn the latter part of the day into a nightmare, although when I arrived at Landmanalargar, it seemed worthwhile for the impressive landscape and hills. And of course all the tents and to see lots of people again.
When I was making dinner, I found two bags of mashed potatoes hidden in the folds of the cardboard box. Things turned out not so bad.
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