Distance: 65.98 miles

Time: 6:04:38

Average Speed: 10.9 mph

Elevation Gain: 4,475 feet

Still raining this morning, I decided to go to the pool along the road. Ken was up too and heading for the supermarket, but said that he would see me at the next campsite.

When I reached the supermarket, Ken’s bike was still outside. After we’d shopped, we grabbed something to eat together at a seating area at the front of the store. He still had to visit another shop and was now less certain about pushing all the way to Djupivogur that day, so we parted company once more.

Heading out of town, at half past 4, it was drizzling lightly, and conditions weren’t too bad as I rolled along beside the rocky coastline. After 6 miles, I came across another cyclist heading in the opposite direction. He was from Raleigh, North Carolina, and his bike was seriously loaded. All things being well, he would be flying out of Reykjavik on the same day as me, so maybe I’ll see him there.

One thing he’d said that concerned me, was that the weather was much worse on the other side of the tunnel, and, looking ahead, I could now see one just up ahead. The tunnel was uphill and over a kilometre long, and coming out the other side was like the land that seasons forgot. Several degrees colder, persistent drizzle, and a howling wind, was this really midsummer?.

Within half an hour, I was soaked through and my temperature was falling fast. High mountains flanked my left hand side and turbulent air plummeted off the mountain ridges I passed, whipping my bike around and slowing me down to 6 mph.

Soon I climbed high above the sea, black stacks littering the coastline, a splendid vista on any other day, but for now, I was just too cold to enjoy it.

Then I saw commotion on the hillside to my left, some people were running up the steep slopes trying to take pictures of a couple of large caribou higher up the hill.

Eventually, I reached the fjord I was looking for, and the campsite was just the other side, or so I thought until I read the sign, 21 km to go. The road continued like a rollercoaster, the surface becoming loose and rough, I tried to pedal as long as I could but soon I’d had enough. 2/3rds of the way up the penultimate climb, the road steepened and my bike squirmed on the loose stones, and that was that, I pushed it up the rest.

Arriving at the campsite at quarter past 11, I was soaked through and chilled to the bone, desperate to get some shelter from the elements for the first time in 65 miles, I tried to access the facilities building, but was unable without a code.

With frozen fingers on a rain splattered screen, I entered my details on the online booking form, then came the cruel sting in the tail. To complete my booking and gain access to the building, I was required to upload a photo of my tent, which was yet to be built. As the wind whipped around me, I became desperate when I discovered that there was a base of stones just below the grass. 3 pegs were damaged in the process.

Finally, warm and dry and happily ensconced inside, with drying clothes around me, I couldn’t believe it, when at 20 to 2 in the morning, Ken rolled into view. I really hoped you’d found somewhere sooner, I said.

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