Day 15
Monday 15th July – 35Km
A good nights sleep. I wake up to a tent covered in a fine
layer of sand. Breakfast is bread, jam and grit.
It’s warm and overcast with no wind
On the road by 10:00, at 10:30 a 4wd appears and the driver
stops for a chat. I confirm my position on the map, about 10Km from the turning
for Dreki and Askja.
It’s very difficult to ride on the road; there are
frequent patches of black volcanic sand. The wheels just sink into this and I
slowly topple sideways. I end up pushing or even dragging the bike for most of
the time.
A few cars go past covering me in dust and then an old
Zundapp sidecar combination. At 12:00 I reach the junction and then ride,
fall,walk,push to the second bridge over the Jokulsa a Fjollum which does not
look like a nice river to swim in…
Pushing on through the desert with twisted rocks all around
and dust devils on the horizon I’m reminded of Dune, thankfully there are no
Sandworms in sight. At one point I pass an area of smooth sand with rocks
sticking out at random intervals, like someone had planted a Zen garden in the
desert.
My leg is becoming more painful, I’m limping now, and it
hurts more to walk than it does to pedal.
At 4:00 I reach another junction. I can go left to Dreki at
the foot of Askja or go right to the campsite at Heroubreidarlindir. I decide to
go left; fortunately the road is mostly rideable now.
I’m very tired when I reach the site at Dreki, a few huts
and a lot of tents, all pitched on coarse gravel and pumice and with the pegs
weighed down with big rocks. Drekagil means “Dragon Canyon” and the twisted,
contorted rocks leading into the mountain look a suitable lair…
There are several groups here from one of the Icelandic
walking clubs, a few people on motorbikes and one pair of cyclists from Germany
who came the same way as me. I noticed their tyre tracks and footmarks earlier
in the day.
I pitch my tent and then go to find the warden and pay. I
ask the warden what time the tour buses get here in the morning. She says I’ll
have no problem getting a ride to Myvatn.
In the toilet block I look at myself in the mirror, red
eyed, unshaven and encrusted with black sand. Not a pretty sight, even by my
standards.
The skin on my fingers has split in several places making
it painful to curl my hands and hold things.
Back in the tent I put my fingers on the inflamed area
above my ankle and move my foot around. I can feel and hear the tendons
creaking!
I think I need some rest…