ICELAND - A game of three halves

Last autumn my good friend and riding buddy Mark (Merlings1200), gives me a call to help run two 'Offroad Adventure' trips in Iceland this summer.

He expected the (slight) pause before I agreed, he well knows previous trips have been very much about my wife, Ange and I.

A plan was soon hatched , the two 'lads' trips would have a fortnight gap between them with Ange's bike being shipped out along with the first group's...... then everyone should be happy

Hmmm this would give me a whole month in Iceland mainly living in my tent!



A couple of months before each trip we ran a trial weekend's riding in mid Wales, the first group included Cabby from this forum who told me it was the hardest thing he'd ever done and fair play he also had to ride his 660 Tenere from far up Scotland and back.
The second group did have some handy riders but others found it somewhat challenging .........

Mark's done a brilliant job with all the logistics and paperwork, I fly out a day before the others to sort the final shipping paperwork and catch up with my good friend Þröstur in Reykjavik.

Which bike would I use?
There is only one.............



Next day 'the lads' arrive fresh faced and bushy tailed.......actually most were knackered through no sleep but they were ready to ride........................

C'mon man get on with it

FIRST HALF

It's agreed the first day will be easy as many of the group are already wrecked.

Wrecked! Ha, they don't know the meaning of the word ....yet

Heading out of Reykjavik, we get separated by traffic and lights no matter Mark knows the first stop will be Thingvellir.

After waiting a while three of us push on to use a more interesting route I know, we try a now unused track through the hills but a landslide has made it impassable, staying on narrow twisty tarmac it's still a lovely road ride.





The only pic I have of me on the bike so I'll get it in now



Þingvellir, a National Park's a very interesting place, lying in a rift valley that marks the crest of the mid Atlantic ridge, (tectonic plates and all that), it's also the site of the world's oldest parliament... 930AD.

No pics for now, but there will be some in the Second Half when Ange and I stay there with billions of flies

We make camp at Geysir and we all go to see ..... the Geysir ...... I'm sure you've seen pics of geysirs.

Here's some of the lads chewing the fat before sleep ...... I on the other hand manage to listen to Wales whipping England at footy on my phone, even my whoops and shouts at the game didn't wake them.



We're up and away early to ride north up the F35 road or Kjölur route an easy gravel road through the interior before heading out on some smaller trails Ange and I found last year.

Shortly before the tarmac ends we must see Gullfoss waterfall..........

Tim , been looking forward to this one . So from the comfort of my Adventure Chair , Lets ave it. In your own time of course my good man

Well and truly in

Yes please....

Oooh fantastic, lots of great photos coming up!

The F35, Kjölur route is the shorter of the two highland routes across Iceland, it's 200km is easy peasy as you can see with no river crossings, in fact it's a bus route during summer. The surface is certainly much smoother than the first time Ange and I rode it five years ago!



Pressing on in deteriorating weather I stop at the first place where there could be any possible confusion on the route, John breaks out the jelly babies while we wait for the others.
Cabby eventually arrives last, having stopped to take photos he became acutely aware of the remoteness out here.



Long before the end of the F35 we regroup in miserable weather ready to hit some smaller twisty trails .... oh and an Arctic Fox ran in front of me, the significance of me telling Ange can be found by reading last years Iceland RR ....she of course insists without photographic evidence, it didn't happen ffs
http://www.ukgser.com/forums/showthread.php/405689-Iceland-revisited-for-unfinished-business

Through the beautiful twisty trails I'm aware Rob on his KTM 690 isn't with me, I waited a few minutes and he pulls up alongside with broken mirror and bent handguard but most importantly, a big smile.

We stop to camp at Hofsos for the night, a small town of 200 people it's the oldest trading port in Iceland dating back to the 16thC



The emigration centre is here and tells the story of why so many Icelanders left for North America during the latter part of the 19thC.

A series of hard winters, poor summers, pack ice, dismal harvests, lack of agricultural opportunity then to top it all Askja erupts covering the land in that area with poisonous pumice and ash.
Who can blame them for emigrating!

Riding north and following the stunning coastline towards Siglufjordur we take a few detours on minor tracks, some I've done before, others because you can.



The roads go's from tarmac to gravel and then back again several times with big drops into the Arctic Ocean, I remembered Ange riding through floods of tears from fear here five years ago, now we were having a blast.

The original old track go's over the mountain, I slow by the entrance but it closed so through the dark tunnel and enter the town in warm sunshine.
More on Siglufjordur in the third half



Through the long, long tunnel which briefly bursts into sunshine at the head of the beautifully remote Hedinsfjordur and on to Dalvik where some need fuel.
The ferry from here go's to Grimsey Island straddling the Arctic circle, which we could see on the way into Siglufjordur.

Down the deep Eyafjordur for manky burger and chips in Akureyri and up a lovely trail I found last year.

Jumped on my bike just after this photo to find I had a rear feckin puncture!



Twenty minutes later we were on our way again to Husavik for the night.

Now in Reykjavik, five years ago Husavik was home to the penis museum ..... much to Ange's delight...





Now though it's tourist attractions are limited to the more modest whale museum, whale harpooning... erm I mean watching and fish and chips.



As anyone who knows him, Mark's a great football fan so into a bar to watch Iceland sadly but proudly go out of the Euro championship.

Can't wait for this next year.

But you've now also given me pause for thought about doing both trips and having my girlfriend come out in the middle for a holiday........ oh this could get expensive

Picture of Tim. Second trip waiting for people to catch up.


Sent from Space

ButtonMoon said:

Picture of Tim. Second trip waiting for people to catch up.

Click to expand...

Bad hair day

So far the riding's been fairly tame but now we have a big day ahead of us.

A stony track and some road round the coast brings us next to Asbyrgi canyon, we didn't go into to see it this time but it is stunning.

It's a horseshoe shaped canyon which some will have you believe was caused by massive glacial flooding, but my friend Throstur assures me it's where Odin's eight legged horse, Sleipnir, touched a hoof down. I know which I'd rather believe.

Instead we filled our bellies and brimmed our tanks for the ride ahead.

This started off as a few miles of freshly laid stone which some found a bugger to ride on. Strangely three weeks later it was all flattened down.

Then a fantastic flowing trail all the way down to Dettifoss waterfall, down some more eventually onto the F88 highland trail toward Askja......

Copied from the Dangerous Roads site...
Askja road is a dirt track winding to the Askja volcano, a stratovolcano situated in a remote part of the central highlands of Iceland. The road has some challenging sections, crossing several rivers. To drive on this road, you have to be driving a 4x4 vehicle. It is strongly advised that people travel together in 2 or more cars...................................................................................................................................................... On this road there are fords on the rivers Grafarlandsá and Lindá that need to be crossed. The fords can be difficult or even impassable for small jeeps. To drive this trails, you must have supreme confidence in your vehicle and your driving skills.

Bring it on

After an hour or so's quick riding we come to the first of our many rivers that day.

On the far bank a group of Germans are gathered around a dead bike but all our group make it across without incident







70 yrs old Bob






And so we meet the unhappy Germans
The woman was particularly unhappy as it was her bike that had gone over and drenched her sleeping bag

It was soon clear they didn't know what to do with a drowned bike.
The lads joined in to tip the water out, I removed the plug and Fritz pressed the starter button to empty the cylinder while and I got another to dry the air filter from another bike's exhaust.

Back together and it started first time

You'd have thought they'd be euphoric, perhaps the girls wrath had been showered upon them as she muttered about staying the night in a cabin somewhere

Winding our way through the black desert for miles, heading deeper into the interior of this bleak land.

Bleak it was but with a changing beauty and now through the tight twisting maze of rock lava fields, constantly changing direction sharply like no piece of tarmac anywhere in the world could possibly do.

Then as abruptly as we entered the track opened out where a much more daunting river awaited us.

Before that though was a Park Ranger who'd just closed one of the crossings due to the strength of flow.
He looked at the bikes saying "well you look like you know what you're doing but it's up to you"

A few of us rode down to have a look.... hmmmm it was possible to cross but only with several hands on each bike as the current was so strong.

100m away was another crossing which we unanimously agreed to use

A far as possible I take the right line and feel the current trying to pull the bike down stream but managing to keep the bike rolling the far bank is fast becoming a reality ..... yehaaa!!

And now some pics of the others, don't let the relatively shallow depth deceive the strength of the river nor do we see the underlying rocks .....

Cabby gets pushed by the current and is heading downstream so manages to dismount.



Mark who's on the far bank is in like a shot to help save the bike from going further downstream





Mark's already wet so stays to watch over John



Fully loaded and fighting it.

During our weekend in Mid Wales one of the KTM 990s was drowned.
When we got it started it sounded like a bag of nails with no oil pressure. Luckily I knew the fix! The paper oil filter had collapsed after water entered the crankcase, the temporary fix was to lay the bike on it's side and remove the oil filter.
A better solution however is to fit a stainless gauze filter, obtainable from the US



Rob and his 690





The HP2 go's down!



Back up again.
A basic design fault of the HP2 is the crankcase breather is in the BOTTOM of the air box ffs
So any water in the air box go's? Yup..........



Good 'ol Bob



Phil gets a hand





Or three









All of us with wet feet but safely across



Then the Germans arrive...........

Fabulous ... keep it coming Tim, thoroughly enjoyable

From my settee

Crackin' photographs to complement a great report

The German's start to show us how they manged to drown one of the bike's earlier
Getting help from our gang.











Eventually Fritz helps his companion too



Rob's possibly offering the girl a night in half a warm, dry sleeping bag.



Seems he was unsuccessful

Proper adventure!

Trekker3 said:

Proper adventure!

Click to expand...

Yes, certainly everyone who completed the rides would agree wholeheartedly.

The commercial world of motorcycling has sadly arrived here, for instance the Touratwat logo'd support vehicle shepherding identical BMWs around, parked up in a row at big hotels with all wheels facing the same direction was all so very different to this!

But horses for courses, there's a lot of a particular type out there who'd find that more suitable

Oh I am really enjoying this. Thank you.

Only half way through the day we crack on toward Askja





We're at a junction we need to come back before completing our route.
John voted to wait here and make tea while we went to Askja and back but he was outvoted, so the junction became known as John's Tea Break junction that wasn't





The last few miles saw some quite difficult sand conditions through the turns, there were a few tumbles and I dropped my bike in one of their holes on the way back

At Askja





The lads





Hats off to Bob, one of life's great characters as were all his Geordie mates on this trip, despite their constant joking and piss taking they all looked out for him...... did I mention he's 70 yrs old?
When we had our pre trip meet and ride in Wales, he said ...........
"I only have one question, where and when do I drop my bike off for shipping?" a man who understands, it will all work out



Our long route north again was via the F910 and F905 to the lovely campsite at Modrudalur and at times was even more remote and bleak!

Our way was often fast with countless river crossings most of them small, although being guinea pig and going first I managed to hit a rock in one and drop the flippin bike.

That was twice in one day ffs!!! Thankfully it stayed upright for the rest of the month

Once the tents were up we were treated to the most glorious sunset ............











We were to find out in the morning they'd run out of petrol



But for now I thought to wait up til gone midnight waiting for the right light on Herðubreið, which means broad shouldered.
An ancient tuya and volcano which erupted under a glacier causing the lava to cool quickly giving it such a distinctive shape.

I waited and waited........................ it was only there for a moment then gone.