I've been told by many people that you're easy to do here in Iceland. And now I know that this is true. Even back home in the US I had never tried hitchhiking. But, I guess that I never really needed to. I've always had a vehicle, and my favorite transportation the bike, or friends and family willing to give me a lift. Hiking all the way to Sólheimar even sounded like a proper adventure. It's only a measly 32km. But I underestimated one small detail. The huge backpack nearing 35lbs that I'd be bringing with me. A true monkey on my back.
Yesterday I woke up around 8, I'd love to have slept in. Wednesday night as I was about to get up from the Gesthus couch an interesting individual plopped down next to me. Somehow or another we began talking and we hit it off. Turns out he's from Denmark and despite our different origins we share many thoughts and interests. He told me all about his hikes and dreams of the Gobbles, a jellyfish. His plans are to create a trilogy of albums about gobbles, cats (we both find them to be so darn cute), and seagulls. The latter he was once offended to hear called the rats of the sky. Anyway, he deserves an entire post on his own. What I'm trying to say is that I stayed up late and didn't sleep much. So, there I am at 8 packing my things away and eager to hit the road. But before that I decided it'd be best to eat a fair bit of the food some kind soul left behind at the Gesthus free table. I believe it may have been the open box of cheerios that had been visited by who knows how many hands where I've gotten my sore throat from. After stuffing my face like a bear preparing for hibernation I decided maybe I'd wait a bit to see if my Danish friend would emerge from his tent. Unfortunately he did not and it was time for me to go. I hope you're well Espian (Esbian? or something...) and that we cross paths again. He was headed to the Blue Lagoon after finding his blue speedo and remembering a dream of being there. Don't forget to email me.
So, I finally hit the road. This is the part where I take notice of my monkey. Motivating myself with thoughts of Bill Bryson's unfit friend that he drags along the AT in "A Walk in the Woods", I decide I can toughen up and do it. After all I consider myself an endurance athlete! The bridge out of town comes and goes and my march continues. One more roundabout later I come to the sign pointing toward Geysir and road #35. It's here I remember google maps telling me that I'd be on this road 20km. The distance is offset by the view of a mossy plataeu alongside the road and I'm still paying no mind to the many cars whizzing by towards Geysir. At least until I feel the twin blisters that have taken up residence on the bottom of each foot. Now I begin paying more attention to each passing vehicle. What a marvelous invention the automobile is. All I'd need to do is stick out my thumb and maybe I'd get a ride. But I was faced with a similar feeling as if I were asking a girl out on a date. My mind was filled with thoughts of looking silly, and failure. I began telling myself "What's the worst that happens? They just keep driving." And so my attempt at hitchhiking began. And luckily it went a lot better than my attempts at dating.
After working up the courage I began sticking out my thumb for each car I heard coming towards me. I kept walking as thoughts of failure kept my legs moving. At this point I was still ~3hrs walking from Borg. It was already 3:00. Many cars passed me by but with each one I was never discouraged. It was almost a relief actually. When a car finally stopped I'd be faced with what to do. Again, a bit like dating. And so I almost didn't believe it when finally a car passed and I saw break lights. My heart began beating a little quicker, this was it. Like a scene from a romantic film with two lovers running towards each other. Only I awkwardly jogged and the car slowly backed up until the two of us met. After a bit of talking I hopped in the front seat, monkey in my lap. My new friend was an older lady willing to give me a ride half-way. I told her I'd never done this before and she said it wasn't a habit of hers to pick folks up off the road. But it was windy and rain looked eminent so she felt pity for me. She was coming from Reykjavik where her husband managed a golf course. Her destination was her greenhouse where she now grows herbs but soon tulips for Christmas. We shared small details about each other and not long after she was dropping me off at her turn, apologizing for not taking me further. I couldn't thank her enough. Success! Suddenly reminded of the cold, wind, blisters and monkey I now threw my thumb up with gusto. Thankfully not long after another car came to a halt. This time an elderly gentleman that reminded me a bit of my grandfather. I told him I was headed to Sólheimar and he said he'd get me to Borg. We didn't talk much as his English and my Icelandic could use some work but I do know he has a son that's a doctor in Minnesota.
When we arrived in Borg I thanked him and decided I should stop there. By now it was a little after 4 and I still had 10km to go on a side road. I went into the gas station, spent 500 ISK on a coke and water, and got directions to the campsite. I spent the night alone in a clearing in front of a moss covered hill and some evergreens. Elves and sheep (baa'ing in the distance) ran through my mind as I tried to drift off. The next morning I awoke to waves of rain and feeling the Cheerio sore throat setting in. I stayed lazy and didn't leave the safety of my tent till the last minute. Luckily when I did the rain subsided and I began my trek. This time I hiked the full 10k to Sólheimar. No rides. Once I arrived I learned I had come a bit late and most things were closing down for Winter. However, in the art gallery a lovely woman prepared me some tea and I sat and wrote in my journal while listening to music she played from her laptop. We talked for a bit and she told me it was a dream that had brought her there. Iceland seems to be the place for dreaming. I could have stayed much longer than I did.
When I finally left I was feeling quite tired and was eager for a ride. But I knew this road was not well travelled and my hopes weren't high. Less than 100m after I left the man who keeps the greenhouses stopped and gave me a lift, he was headed for Borg. We talked about Sólheimar and what he grows, how long he had been there and more. But soon enough we were at our destination. Here I prepared myself for another lonesome night but decided to again test my luck. If I could make it all the way back to Selfoss I'd spend the night at Gesthus. I stood on the corner of the Borg campsite road and 35 with my pack at my feet and thumb out. I'm not sure how long I waited but it wasn't too much. A nice rental car pulled up and a man hopped out of the car to open the trunk. I threw my backpack in and hopped in the back. It was a father/son couple in Iceland on business but they had been up at Geysir for fun. They're from Switzerland and own a horse meat processing plant in Selfoss. They used to import from the US but since Americans became horrified at the idea of eating horse that has become difficult. Not so here in Iceland. The son told me he had a bad experience with Americans around 10 years ago and used to dislike us. But he worked writing songs for a musician in California and through her he learned to give Americans a chance. I hope I left a positive impression. He told me how he'd like to visit the US for Thanksgiving and Black Friday. While he'd rather spend money on nonmaterial things he's fascinated by the idea of our shopping day. These two kind Swiss gentlemen got me to road #1. I hopped out here as they continued to Reykjavik. Soon after I was passing the roundabout, crossing the bridge and walking down the street to pay my money and get a place for my tent.
I began this post in the communal room, all the faces are new, and I'm ending it in the tent. The owner came in to let us know the northern lights are starting. Tonight's show is supposed to be spectacular according to a man at Sólheimar. I've been out in the field but now I'm attempting to warm up a bit. Soon enough I'll be out there again. The lights come and go and I'd hate to miss something good. In between the satellites, shooting stars, regular stars and moon keep me entertained. The world isn't such a bad place. I've been reminded that there's lots of good out there. Something I'll try not to forget, and maybe one day I'll give someone a lift. Physically or emotionally.
Sincerely,
Zeb
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