I take a step, I breathe. I take a step, I breathe. I take ten steps and I allow myself a micro break while my legs scream and I wonder how much longer this climb will go on. Meanwhile, Keith is mercifully patient standing on the climb above me.
In the afternoon the clouds blow in and the same fine drizzle that has been so indicative of Iceland begins to fall.
Sometimes, dear reader, it’s just a sufferfest. And nine miles that somehow manages to take seven hours certainly qualifies as a sufferfest. But I make it to the hut where we are spending the night with the knowledge that tomorrow we will walk to the coast. This project, as misshapen as it has become, is almost over.
stories from the wild
Glad to hear you survived a hard day in the Icelandic wilderness. Now that sounds cool n