February 7, 2017 <-the day of my daddy’s birthday!!!
The saying goes that if you’re always looking back, you’ll never be able to move forward. At the beginning of my trek through Iceland, I thought this was true. I’d spent the whole bus ride to the trailhead contemplating my past, and how it would all shape my future, wondering how as this adventure became a memory of my past, it would effect me as well. How one chooses to measure the past however, is truly intriguing. The English language leads us to believe that much more is present than in reality, it’s a malleable language, allowing us the freedom to determine if we grew something or had grown it, or are growing it, or will grow it, or even will have grown it. Needless to say, other languages are even more extensive than this, but that’s to show that our societal perception of time, and how it should be handled, varies, but is shaped by our language.
Ultimately, the afternoon I arrived at the head of the trail, setup my tent, already exhausted merely from the ride there, took a nap and then set off to explore a bit of the trail. Within the first 5 minutes, I’d already turned around and began looking down and around to see exactly how steep what I’d just climbed up was. Completely taken aback, and with a mouth wide open, I considered how difficult it was walking up a basically 90 degree angle, without my backpack on!!! As I began walking on the phantasmagorical foot path, I was still panting. But yet the inner turmoil inside of me, did not translate over into what I was witnessing. Everything was peaceful and quiet, and I was by myself. No one surrounded me, and I felt that I could conquer the world on my own. With that being said however, I turned around every few minutes to see where’d I’d just come from, what feat I’d just conquered, to reaffirm my accomplishments and to encourage me to keep moving on. Eventually, I turned around, walked back, and went into the hot spring to relax. Not much was on my mind except how chilly it was going to be when I got out of the hotspring!! I then paid $5 for a 5 minute shower, and went back to my tent to eat some peanut butter on a tortilla, journalled, read, and hit the sac.
The following morning, I woke up, anxious to start on the trail. I didn’t want to wait until the warden came, so I informed a woman I’d met on the busride over (when our bus broke down, apparently for the first time in Icelandic history, and we waited for another bus to swing by in the highlands of Iceland LOLS). I set out as early as I could so that I’d get a good handle on the trail before everyone on the campsite woke up and started the hike. Due to my relatively short stature, I thought if I started early enough, I might made it to the next camping site without having too many people pass me along the way. Prior to leaving for Iceland, I’d decided I wanted to have some sort of audio in my ears as I hiked so as to avoid going stir crazy from the quietness. It just so happened that over the summer, my honors seminar professor had sent me a book on tape that had really moved her, and that she thought I might gain a lot from. The name of it escapes me at the moment, but it was a book about a Syrian refugee who’d come to the United States. Hiking with this in my ears, proved to be very motivating.
With all of that being said, I did run into a number of snagfus along my first day of this adventure. First, my Osprey Water Pack was not hooked in properly, so I quickly realized that I could not access the water I needed without taking my pack off and readjusting it. I then even more quickly realized that the second time you put your pack on in a day, it’s more difficult than the first time, even if nothing has changed. I then spent so much time drinking my water as I hiked, that I learned that if I thought the second time was hard, the third time was way worse. And all of that in just the first stretch!! About a quarter of the way in on my first day, I got to another relatively steep climb, but this time, a slightly muddy one with no real gripping. I pulled out the walking stick that my dad had highly encouraged me to bring, and realized that I couldn’t get it to lock into place. Having very limited mechanical experience, and no experience with the walking stick, I wasn’t quite sure what to do to ensure that if it wasn’t already broken, that I wasn’t the culprit for having broke it. After a little while of messing with it, I saw someone approaching, and I politely asked for his assistance. Sure enough, he took it apart and fixed it. I then made it mess up again so that I could try fixing it myself before he left, and it was good because he had to show me again. But after all of that was said and done, I began my trek as though I’d never left off, greatful to have had a few minutes of unapologetic rest.
I found that while walking in solitude, I didn’t have anyone to keep up with and keep me moving (but still, fellow trekkers would take photos of you if you asked nicely), but I also didn’t have anyone to tell me to slow down and take my inhaler. Being my competitive self, I felt I had something to prove, and so I tried to move along smoothly, while still trying to absorb the moments. It’s true however, that after every climb, up or down, I would turn around and look back. Eventually, I managed to get myself behind a group of French walkers on a tour and they randomly all stopped, and sat down to eat. Quite unsure of myself, and not wanting to look like a fool crossing the river that was right next to where they rested their laurels, I decided to take my break as well. I pulled out my tortillas and peanut butter and went to town. Once they’d risen and crossed, I saw how it was to be done, and continued on. By this point, I was quite aware of all the preparation I should have done prior to setting out on this endeavour, and I was just so looking forward to arriving on the campsite. In reflection, it seems like it went by a lot faster than it felt at the time, but by mid afternoon, I’d arrived at the bottom of another steep hill, with what seemed to be a solar panel at the top. My heart rose and I bolted up the hill to see the Icelandic flag, a small hut, and lots of circles of rocks around. As I made my way down, I wasn’t reflecting too much, just trying to choose the most strategic place for my tent, which I went ahead and set up before checking in with the warden.
When I finally did make my way into the hut to check in, I was starving and freezing. The warden told me for an additional $5, I could stay inside the hut until 16:00 and use their cooking equipment. Eagerly, I took that opportunity to warm up, and to meet some of my fellow adventurers. I sat down with a group of American girls in particularly high spirits. They were some of the few who were “hut hopping,” going from hut to hut without having to carry any tent or cooking equipment at all. As I sat at the table discussing the adventure with them, I discovered...To be continued….. (Photos to come!!)
For my dad: til hamingju með afmælið pabbi
I love you!!
-Siku njema,
Beca
