Þórðarhöfði Hike

On Wednesday I took a day off. It was the first day I'd taken off in weeks and I was very ready for it. I was planning to go horseback riding, but that got canceled the night before due to an illness. There was no help for it, but to say I was severely disappointed would be an understatement. I haven't been able to ride as much as I had hoped to this summer, so I was pretty bummed that this opportunity got canceled as well. I rallied and the next morning made plans to go hiking on Þórðarhöfði instead. Þórðarhöfði is a very interesting looking headland just a few kilometers north of Hofsós. I admit, I was not in a the highest of spirits when I started my hike. I got a ride out to the "trailhead" and tried to shake off my glum mood as I began to walk. Hofsós has been so lovely, but I have started to feel a bit socially deprived over these last few weeks. I spend a lot of time alone, so I wasn't really looking forward to spending a day hiking alone.  However, I wanted to do something with my day off and wanted to hike this headland, and this seemed like a good day to do it. This little bit lonely feeling has been mixed with my increasing angst over having to so soon return to Minnesota. I want to stay. I want to go. I'm very torn. Indecision has been a nagging force in my life this past year, and if I was hoping to escape it here, I've failed.

The walk to the headland

Looking back to where I started (across the connecting beach), and where I would have to walk again at the end of the day.

Drangey

I think that rock formation looks like a bear

Hofsós from Þórðarhöfði

The hike was long; much longer than I thought it would be (mostly by choice). I actually feel bad because all summer I've been telling tourists it would be a two or so hour endeavor. I mean, I guess you could do that if you booked it and didn't stick around long. I took seven (fairly leisurely) hours to explore, so call me a liar. It took me almost an hour just to reach the headland from where I'd been dropped off on the highway. You have to have a SuperJeep in order to drive on the beach that connects þórðarhöfði to the main land, and I didn't happen to have one of those sitting around, so I hoofed it.

Oh, and thanks a lot to the smartass that planted this nightmare (see photo below) along the path. I almost had a heart attack, and an expletive sailed out of my mouth before I could even think about stopping it. There are some sick people in this world.

Terrifying bird head.

Upon reaching the headland, I spent hours climbing up and down the various peaks, at each one thinking I would wrap things up and start to head back. But at each little summit I was awed by the views and motivated to go explore the next one. What if what was over the next hill was even better? There's a fable in here somewhere.

Lighthouse on Málmey

Málmey

I had a picnic lunch on my own little mountaintop. By this time I had reclaimed a more positive attitude and was enjoying the adventure, though I think I still would have preferred to have some human company. It was sunny and warm for most of the day. There were blueberries everywhere. I could walk wherever I wanted and I could sing as loud as I wanted to because the only other creatures within miles were birds and sheep, and they didn't have the ability to complain. There are advantages to solo hiking in the middle of nowhere.

Lunch site

Sheep wishing I would shut up

Majestically trying to ignore me.

Taking a break

I finally decided I had had enough and made the return journey down the headland and across the beach toward the highway. My legs were tired and my feet in agony due to a couple of new blisters I'd collected over the course of the day. I think it's time to retire my elderly hiking boots. They do more harm than good, at this point in their careers. Valgeir picked me up just before I made it back to the highway and brought me to Vatn (the farm) where he and Gunna fed me rice pudding and smoked trout on homemade rye bread. Delicious. He also threw in a few slivers of slátur - both blóðmör (blood pudding) and lifrapylsa (liver sausage). The meal, he told me afterwards, was to test how Icelandic I really was. I like everything except the blood pudding, which really isn't bad...it just isn't good, so I think I mostly passed the test.