Again presented with some slow-going and challenging terrain of glacial till, the rubble left in the wake of glaciers movement. The methodical process of picking our way through the moraine induced more daydreams of longing for my fatbike.
We had to back-track East into the valley for an hour or two in-order to find a section of river that could be safely crossed. Low hanging cloud cover obscures the view of surrounding peaks and massive glaciers.
Local wild life, offered some momentary entertainment as I stalked some ground birds trying to snap a picture or two.
After our 7th river crossing that day, we were phyisically and emotionally drained by the conditions of the trail, there was not much riding to be had due to the frequency of the rivers. Ultimatly in surveying our next ford, a Toyota Hi-Lux pulled up, and older man got out waved hello, pointed at our bikes, and then pointed to the back of his truck. Nodding in agreement we loaded out bikes for a ride in a truck and a welcomed escape from the suffering. We were given a ride through about 15 more river crossings from a very nice older couple from the North of Iceland who didn't speak more than 5 words of English, we communicated by pointing to maps, smiling, and nodding to gain a ride to the nearest town to make camp for the night.
Packed and ready for Spain.
One bike on my back the other in tow.
There is a harsh beauty of the land and genuine warmth in the people, both unique, rare, and endearing.