Zero day at Laugafell Hut, no miles hiked.
The wind roars and the building jolts as though pushed by some cosmic hand. Even from inside the wind feels powerful. A freight train perpetually barreling down upon and crashing into us with ceaseless energy.
When Keith I arrived at the Laugafell hut last night we were told by the warden on duty that snow and high winds were in the forecast for today; the final sodden straw we needed to be convinced to take a zero indoors. We were established in a small cabin and set to watching the weather blow itself into a storm. In the morning there was snow on the ground.
We spend the day just the two of us doing a dozen tiny things for every hour of waiting and watching the wilds out the window. We sleep late and enjoy a casual breakfast without the need to hurry to pack the tent away. I pad around on feet puffy and swollen from so many continuous hours of being wet. Keith makes tea only to forget about it and drink it cold like he always does. We hold our phones to the window in order to coax what little cell service can be wrung from the air.
In the afternoon Keith finds a list of ranger programs that run from July to August 15th. Today is August 19th and listening to the howl of the wind I wonder if the summer season really is over and that we might be facing a whole lot more of this weather. When we spoke to the ranger last night she told us that snow is uncommon this time of year, and then in a tone which may or may not have been Icelandic joking, that August is almost winter in the highlands. I worry in a useless circle about the weather until bored with myself it is time to make lunch and go back to staring out the window. We’ll just have to see what the highlands hold for us.