Kaldidalur Corridor. - Friday

The plan having been hatched, the wind god was not with me for the first 30km and this was just to the start if the pass.  

Last year I had cycled past the signpost at the end of the 'Kaldidalur Corridor' and thought, that looks interesting. I hadn't ever considered up to this moment coming at it from the other direction. Corridor is an apt description because the route traverses between two glaciers via a narrow valley.

The problem with this pass unlike the Kjolur is that you are totally on your own. No cafés, no campsites and not many people let alone cyclists. But you have got the emergency shelter at 35km if your struggling. This has a phone and a place to shelter if the weather turns. But remember, I have my tent and sleeping bag on my bike so if all goes pair shaped I can hunker down anywhere. Not that I was aiming for a hill top vista to wake up to.  

I set out after stuffing myself at the fantastic bistro in Husafell. My cunning plan to squirrel two extra pieces of pizza into my back pack proved to be a master stroke.  Two cups of tea to wash it all down and I was ready to roll.  It wasn't early, about 2.30 but I guessed about 5 hours should be enough. That's if it was doable. 

When I reached the turn where Tarmac turned to dust and rocks , I did stop and ask Why? But there's no answer at all to that one other than it was something I felt I simply had to do. 

I had lodged my GPS position with the Icelandic safety service so that was covered. Having checked the weather all was good and with the wind now a northerly at my back I was good to go.

A man sat in his truck looking at me hesitating gave a huge laugh as I shouted out to his enquiring gaze, "mad...mad... But it has to be done" He cheered me on with good luck. 

I pushed the bike over the first 1km as the ash and sand proved too deep to cross.  I was sure it would get better. The first 5km were tough and nasty and then it started to drizzle. Great.  I shook my head at myself and as if by magic I was given one of this signs I keep wittering on about. 

You may remember in Iceland V1 my rainbow moment? So you will know that once again I took faith and pushed on.  

This was hard.  This was really hard. I even had a small doubt as to whether I was going to make it at all. This was not helped by the cars that stopped to ask if I knew what lay ahead. Oh yes said I, cheerfully and full of optimism. Bit really  I was on my own on this one. 

Three hours later and I'd reached the plateau at 25km.  There was a lot of pushing and some scuffling called mountain-bike--scoot-along.  But I got to the top.  

It was desolate.  Really empty.  The rain had stopped but the temperature was cold up here.  The only good thing I knew was that it was all down hill for the next 25km.  I stopped only long enough to take the pictures and then I headed down the road. 

Going down had it's own problems.  Whilst I knew I couldn't ride up the sharp inclines because of the road surface, going down I had a white knuckle ride or scoot depending on the road.  It's not really suitable for my poor Shand's 35mm cross tyres.  But apart from a fat tyre bike I doubt even a mountain bike would like this terrain.  I kept on.  

The wind was bitter and althought it was at my back I could feel it's bite.  Fortunately my beanie and my camelback, filled with water, gave me a good insulation against it.  Even then I was wearing a crop top, base, shirt, rou baix jersey, jacket, raincoat and a wind proof to top it all.  Just as well all this riding slims you down. You need to loose pounds just to wear all the clobber. My legs did not feel the chill at all. (Thank you Sarah L the leg warmers came this year too). I kept checking in with my sense if well being every half an hour to make sure I was ok. 

The time disappeared and I realised I had to stop to phone home, an unspoken agreement that seemed to work well.  I found a really big rock to hunker behind so as not to loose heat whilst stopped. The warm sound of Charlie on the other end filled me with encouragement. I didn't say much other than I was still on the road with an hour or so to go.  Signing off and getting back out there was a challenge but I was beginning to get fed up of this wind. 

My heart really soared when I spied the emergency hut.  I was safe.  If all else failed I could simply retrack to this point and take shelter.  But I knew I was within spitting distance of where I needed to be. Pushing on another 5km and I came to my signpost. 

This time there was no car to witness my journey and strangely I didn't feel like taking a selfie. I wasn't looking my best! You look like kermit the frog after 6 hours in this wind! 

 But the temperature had lifted now that I was down out of the glaciers and I could make haste to my campsite 25km further on.  This was easier travelling as the road had now joined with another and was slightly better maintained. I started to sing to myself. 

"Take a passion, and make it happen

You can have it all when you are 'cycling' through your life!" 

This got me down double quick. Flash dance is a film of adversity and dancing against the odds to become a ballerina in steel toe capped boots.  I knew the feeling.  

Two hours later just before midnight I rolled into camp.  Tent up, hot chocolate brewed and two delicious pieces of cold pizza to fill the hole.  What's not to like.