If it was easy it wouldn’t be a challenge, with these words lodged in my mind I continued riding along the F208 in Iceland’s interior. The surface of volcanic ash combined with ruts in the trail created by other traffic make it sometimes hard to keep my bike on one side of the trail. I'm amazed about the buses that drive on this trail, they look like touring cars that weren’t made to be working in these conditions yet are barrelling down the road.
It was my fifth day on the road since arriving in Iceland, the rain made way for the sun and it was turning into a gorgeous day. It almost felt like summer, about time to switch my cycling tights for a pair of shorts. When I stopped with that intention, it immediately didn’t feel like weather for shorts, just a tad too cold standing still.
Riding into the Icelandic highlands the landscape changes dramatically compared to the coast. Green fields make way for volcanic sand, and paved roads become trails. The bleakness of the landscape quickly becomes apparent, and there is almost nothing around lake Hrauneyjálon except a few mountains in the distance.
The road gradually steepend and I was soon faced with a pretty nasty climb. Due to the soil my back wheel kept spinning. Pushing the bike, loaded with about 20kg of gear, was the only option to get up this hill. It would not be the last time I had to push my bike on the Icelandic roads. People in cars pass me by, all waving, smiling, and/or taking photos of me pushing… that doesn't help. OK, I shouldn’t have come to Iceland if I didn’t want to encounter these challenges.
All along the way I was amazed by the scenery, at times there was absolutely no trace of people (except for the road itself), just the beautifully coloured rhyolite mountains. The black ash, reddish mountains and green moss combine to create a vivid canvas, making it a special place in my memory.