June 28: Dalton Deja Vu
Wow! It almost felt like Dalton Deja Vu. Today’s ride through the mountains of the Vatnsfjordur Nature Preserve on 20 miles of mud through thick fog on only one and a half lanes of barely maintained road was a stomach clencher for sure. But it was either that or travel 300 miles on asphalt through almost unnavigable winds threatening to blow me into the other lane or off the road. After my harrowing experiences with the wind earlier this week I chose the mud instead today. What a relief it was to finally make it to my ferry.
I woke up this morning to find it 41 degrees outside and raining. Although I was tempted to stay in bed a little longer, I knew it was important to leave as early as possible before the dirt road I was heading to became even more soaked with water.
I was still conflicted about which route to take as I knew either direction would be risky. But memories of my drive earlier in the week with the bike tilted precariously to one side, one rear view mirror facing the ground and the other reaching up to the sky, gave me the incentive I needed to try the dirt route. It would allow me to take a ferry to Stykkisholmur, cutting 240 miles off my trip and escaping most of the wind.
Heading south from Isafjordur, I road 25 miles on hard pavement with little wind, savoring the two mountain tunnels I drove through as they gave me a brief respite from the rain and fog. After turning onto route 60 I noted that I had 35 miles to go and hoped that most of them would be on asphalt. However, those thoughts were short lived as just a few miles in the road turned into dirt with scattered gravel.
As I bumped and jostled down the wet dirt road, I focused on avoiding potholes, loose gravel, thick pockets of mud, and cars coming the other direction on the narrow path. I regulated my breath and tried to keep the bike in a low gear and moving forward, appreciating the progress I was making and trying hard not to think about how many miles I might have left. I couldn’t help reflecting on how happy I was that I had put new 50/50 tires on the bike before leaving.
I must admit there were some places on the road where I was fervently praying for safety, especially when the fog was so thick, I could only see a few feet in front of me. It was difficult to avoid potholes or cars coming in the other direction and to see the grade of the road and know when to downshift. Some of the cars had pulled over, possibly to wait out the fog, but I soldiered on as I didn’t feel safe trying to stop the bike or park it safely in those conditions.
Just a few miles before the ferry landing in Brjanslaekur, the road turned to pavement, and the ocean appeared in front of me. Although the wind was strong so close to the water, my heart soared, and I laughed with happiness to be on asphalt again and so close to my destination. I found refuge in a small café near a little church at the top of a gravel road and enjoyed some hot tea and strawberry rhubarb pie to celebrate surviving the ride with me and the Adventure Baby healthy and happy. After arriving in Stykkisholmur, I plan on hunkering down in my lodging for the night due to the strong winds predicted for the rest of the day in this area.
