Zero day at Landmannalaugar hut, no miles hiked
The sun has barely risen when the tent threatens to collapse onto my face and I am roused out of a fitful sleep. The wind has risen from blustery to brutal over the course of the night and the morning finds Keith and myself panic packing up our tent and rushing into the shelter next to Landmannalaugar hut in hopes of finding shelter while we plan out our day. According to the ranger we flag down this morning, the pass that we were supposed to climb over today got more than a foot of snow and even stronger winds than we are experiencing down in the valley. Which means–can you guess it dear reader?–yes, it means we’re taking another zero in a hut to wait out the weather. I am frustratingly resigned, after all, when you are as small as a human it takes a great deal of hubris to get angry at the weather; as if you can change it through your feelings alone.
As I sit in the bunkroom and attempt to doze away the day I am reminded of something that my buddy Riley told me. Which is that if I wanted a sure bet of a hike there are any number of trails that I could spend a few weeks exploring. But when we move to bigger, more complex projects things have the chance of falling apart and that is what makes them exciting, what draws us to them.
When I set out to walk across Iceland I found almost no information online. When I sat down to map out a route and water sources it was with the knowledge that things might change in the field and that I’d have to adapt. But somehow, in my occasional optimism I didn’t factor the weather as such a constant barrier and now here it is, showing up to teach me a lesson in adaptability.
I spend the rest of the day in the warm bunk room trying not to eat all my snacks and waiting for tomorrow when we hike on. Probably.
stories from the wild