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.

Call Me Ishmael. Actually, Don't Call Me Ishmael.

The weather in Hofsós over the last week has been extremely pleasant, as far as Icelandic summer weather goes. We have had abundant sunshine and brisk, but pleasant temperatures. On these sorts of days it is difficult to stay indoors and I am always looking for things to do that will place me out in the sunshine after work. The last three nights have offered such opportunities. 

Thursday evening I was able to go to my second art show of the summer, at the farm, Bær. http://www.baer.is/about/ The latest group of artists was finishing up their monthlong residency and showcasing the work they have done while in Iceland. Viktor accompanied Erica and I, and his grandmother, Gunna. He was less interested in the art, and more interested in the cookies and juice, and doing front flips on the back lawn, but then I think, so was I. 

 
Things that make me laugh: this video.

Viktor

Friday evening, Erica and I were both looking for some unstructured outdoor adventure, so we borrowed Valgeir's truck and drove just a short way down the highway to where there is a turnoff up to the mountain. We left the car down low, near the road, and for the next several hours wandered up and around the beautiful foothills, sometimes together and sometimes on our own. 

Erica

We picked handfuls of blueberries and marveled at the colorful moss and wildflowers. At one point we forded the little river, taking off our shoes and plunging into the ice cold mountain water. It was a good thing my feet were numb by the time I made it to the other side, because the sharp rocks there would have been even more stabby and unpleasant if I'd had any functioning pain receptors. 

Cold, pale toes

Climbing to the tip-top was not the point of the evening. I was happy just to wander and take in the scenery. Around 10:30 the sun dipped below the horizon line, turning the sky a striking, soft orange color. In several places I had a good sit and simply reveled in the fact that I was in Iceland. It occurred to me, not for the first time, how lucky I am to be here this summer. Cue emotional theme music. 

Málmey in the sunset

Yesterday after work I had the chance to go out fishing on the fjord, which was a complete delight. I love to fish, but had never been fishing in the ocean before, so this was quite exciting. It was possibly the most perfect evening that I have had here this summer, and that is really saying something. Valgeir and Gunna set it up for us with the Sailing in Skagafjörður tour company, (highly recommended) which runs out of the harbor here in Hofsós. I have enviously watched the boat come and go all summer, and last night I got to try it out for myself. Valgeir, his son Þröstur, daughter-in-law Rósa, and their two sons, Viktor and Valgeir Orri all went as well. We cruised out into the fjord and headed north to take a look at the back side of Þórðarhöfði, which is a really cool looking headland. It has some truly impressive rock formations and was fascinating to see from the water. I still have not taken a day to hike Þórðarhöfði, but am determined to do it before I leave. 

Our boat captain moved us into a good spot to do some fishing, and mere seconds after the lines (3 hooks each!) had been released into the water there were fish on the hooks. Big, delicious cod, fresh from the Arctic Ocean (or North Atlantic, maybe? I'm a little fuzzy on ocean geography and where one becomes the other). It was just as fun to watch the others catch them as it was to actually fish and catch them myself. The ill fated fish were immediately tossed into a container at the back of the boat and gutted, which drew a mob of seagulls who were looking for a tasty fish gut treat.  At one point I was certain I had caught THE BIG ONE. My white whale. I had a hell of a time reeling it in. With each crank I was wondering how large and impressive this fish was going to be. Was it something other than the plentiful Cod and occasional Haddock we had been catching? Some sort of fascinating, giant, ocean-dwelling legend? No. Turns out I had somehow hooked a normal sized cod in the back and so was dragging the poor, slimy little guy sideways across the ocean, which only made him seem like a monster. Story of my life. Oh well.

Valgeir (and a fish)

Reeling like a pro.

We were out on the water for a couple hours in total, and I loved every minute of it. When we returned to the harbor I was invited back to Gunna and Valgeir's house for a late, fresh fish dinner, which ended up being one of the most amazing meals I've ever had. The frozen tilapia fillets I occasionally buy in Minnesota are a pathetic excuse for a fish dinner, compared to this. I've been spoiled.

An "after" picture of the fish

While dinner was being prepared, I had the honor of playing outside with Viktor and Valgeir Orri. Valgeir Orri took a shine to me this weekend, and when in my presence, said my name as often as he took a breath. "Mal-O-Ree! Sjáðu! (Look!)" he hollers as he throws a stone with great aplomb, or splashes masterfully into the water with his little rain boots. "Mal-O-Ree! Komðu! (Come on!)" He instructs as he leads me over to see something cool. They say to never go to the second location, but I willingly followed this cute little fellow all over the place and lived to tell the tale. I even got a shy hug from him before he went back to Reykjavik this afternoon. Be still, my heart.

My buddies.

OH! One more wild thing! I experienced my first earthquake! Just before I went to bed last night, the whole house gave a full body shudder that lasted maybe a couple of seconds. It was the strangest thing. I wasn't even 100% sure that's what it was until I read about it this morning, though I had my suspicions. It measured at 3.7 on the Richter scale and was located off the coast of Siglufjörður from what I have read. Pretty exciting. 

Tonight I was supposed to go horseback riding, but there was a scheduling conflict with the girl who has the horses, so that will have to wait until Wednesday. Instead, I'm going to attend a church service at a teeny tiny turf church called Gröf. I can't remember the last time I went to church, so hopefully I don't burst into flames when I walk through the door or anything. Stay tuned.