The temperature plummeted at the peak of the route and even though exhaustion was setting in, the short respites to push the bike up the steep inclines was a perfect time to stop and look. It is as I have always thought of Iceland, perfect.
You can see the glacier In the picture above blending into the skyline and at times it was as if heaven really was touching the earth. Especially when the sun shone on the ice. You feel very small at this point. You realise how vulnerable we are in the eyes of Mother Nature and that we should respect her because she probably will bite back. You wouldn't want to 'frack' with her.
By 10pm I was pretty shattered. So much so that had anyone stopped to offer me a lift to the next campsite I may have said yes. Which I would of course have regretted. So it's just as well those 4x4 kept driving right on past in a cloud of dusty ash.
I arrived to the campsite just after 10pm and after a swift pitch of tent, I climbed wearily into the 80 degree outdoors geothermal hot tub. An hours soak was enough to warm the core.
But sleep was elusive as the wind picked up and whipped the tent with force. But again I was pleased to find that my tent was indeed safe and sound and most importantly so was I. Trying to sleep with the knowledge of another 110km of the same again the next day was not the lullaby I needed. Sleep was difficult and I was up by 7.30am next morning to seize the day and keep on keeping on.
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