Iceland: Part III

We set off from the campground for our third day of hiking, and me being me, I immediately began second-guessing the direction we were heading. All along the way, markers with a blue square at the top told us we were on trail. For the first half mile beyond camp, I saw no markers. Then we reached a Y. My gut told me we needed to go left, but the Shadow of Doubt raised its head, and with one eyebrow cocked said, "Are you sure?" I looked at Angel Baby and suggested we go right. He just shrugged. We headed right. Still no trail markers. After another half mile, I stopped and suggested we return to camp and ask. Again, Angel Baby just shrugged.

We backtracked, running into a young lady we'd met the day before. Sanna, like in Susanna, with the 'short a' sound. From Norway. I explained my fear of going off trail, and she nodded, pulling out her map and opening it up for us to look at. My gut had been right: we needed to go left at the Y. We thanked her then set off again.

Not far into the hike, we stopped to remove our jackets and unzip the bottom halves or our hiking pants. The sun was shining, warming the air nicely, and bringing out a sweat as we walked. A little further on, we came to one of the river crossings we'd been anticipating. While the river wasn't all that wide, we couldn't tell how deep it was, and the current was fast enough to make me a bit nervous. I watched two young men make their way across, noting how each used their trekking poles to help offset the rush of water.

The river we crossed. I'm standing at the top of a hill, looking back
to where we'd just walked. To help give some perspective -- see that white
spot on the right, just before the gravel at the bottom of the hill? That
is a group of people. That's how high up we are.

I pulled off my hiking boots and socks, stuffing the socks down into the boots, then tied one on each side of my pack. Without looking at Angel Baby, I inched my right foot into the water. The cold sucked the air right out of me. This was the only way across, so I steeled myself against the cold and moved forward. Using the technique of the young men who had just crossed, I used my trekking poles to help keep my balance against the rushing water. Within seconds my feet were numb. I kept going. When my foot hit the sand of the opposite bank, I sucked in a deep breath. I hobbled over to a grassy area, sat down, pulled my towel from my pack, and went to work to dry my feet. I couldn't get my wool socks and hiking boots on fast enough.

Once Angel Baby made it across and had warmed his feet, put on his socks and hiking boots, we set off again. We stopped to eat some lunch then headed on to the next campground. When we reached the top of a hill, we could see the campground in the distance. It took over an hour to cover the distance from the top of that hill to the campground. By the time we got there, we both just wanted to sit and relax. But when I went to the warden's hut to pay for our tent space, the warden said, "If you have it in you, you either need to keep going to the next campground or go back the way you came."

To be continued . . .