A little too wild

We make our way to Snaefell, the highest mountain on the island, through a thick layer of fog and a pretty cold wind. With the fog clearing up, I am tempted to make more speed, but the piste is tricky at times. I am convinced the path goes straight on as I open up the throttle a little more. It is only at the very last moment that I can see the piste making a 90° turn. It’s too late to correct or do an emergency stop and I have to let go the bike. I flip over the handlebars but my body armour does what it’s supposed to do. Some plastic on the bike is scratched, a blinker broke off and the alu panniers have a few more dents, but nothing to worry about too much. This could have been worse and moreover I was the only one to blame here. It’s been days that I’m on the edge and adrenaline has become my main motivation. That off road playground is so damned tempting… Caro does a better job. She rides in a calm and controlled way. A good example if you ask me.

Trip report: Iceland 2011. Laugarvellir - Motomorgana, nomads riding around the world on a motorbike adventure.
Laugarvellir
The limited visibility from Snaefell is a bit of a letdown but the scenery further down the road is desolate and pure. No tourists here. We’re crossing the Karahnjukar dam with a view on the pretty deep Jökulsa canyon and via the piste we finally end up at the hot springs of Laugarvellir. No one around here and we enjoy the lovely hot water ‘pure nature’, two ice cold Carlsberg beers included. Life can be beautiful indeed… The heat of the morning sun wakes us up. We’re getting a bit sweaty inside so we open up the tent to get some fresh air… or NOT! Zillions of agressive mosquitoes are woken by the sun, just like us, and they’re not particularly fond of our presence. We quickly get dressed, pullover and scarf over our heads with only a small gap for our eyes, and start packing the bikes as fast as we can so we can leave this bloody mosquito hell. We’ll feel itchy for at least a few more days I am afraid and even when we go seeing the canyon from another spot, it seems the swarm of mosquitoes keeps following us. We take a 30 second breakfast and go for some speed in order to stay ahead of these bloody insects. It must be said that the kick of the speed isn’t too much of an issue for me either.

We need some rest

We quickly rejoin the sealed road and decide to head for Husavik for a well deserved rest day. The perfect fish meal and the excellent wine finishes the day in style. Husavik is well known for its whale spotting and on a 2 hour boat trip we get a few glimpses of minky whales and some dolphins. But we enjoy that fresh sea breeze even more, and our brain is getting back to normal after that little too much alcohol the day before. That trip to Askja? That will be for tomorrow and we praise ourselves lucky to have stayed one more day as shortly after, it’s pooring down with rain.

Smelly after a restless night

Askja offers some of the nicest views over a flooded volcano crater. The piste is long and wet but well worth the scenery. But the only hut in Askja is very crowded and rows of 4WD’s and Unimog like camping vehicles with enormous wheels are parked in front. There’s even a few motorbikes there. With room for about 50 people to spend the night, every sqauere inch in the hut is taken. There’s showers but the queues are way too long for us to even bother so we miss out on that. Back home I never skip my daily shower, but with our brains in traveller mode, priorities quickly shift. Not that we got a good night sleep. The combination of constant fidgeting of other people next to us and the loud snoring in the background of that overly filled sleeping hall, doesn’t make for an ideal environment for a quiet sleep.

We’re still a little dazed as we hop on our bikes in all wet and cold gear to head further east, where according to the weather forecast all should be sunny and dry. Not that it’s such a big difference at the moment because shortly after leaving, the rain soaks our gear and fills our boots once again. If it weren’t for us to be so keen on riding the bike, we would definitely have stayed in Askja a little longer. We manage to get through teh bad weather but not without Caro struggling in the soft stuff. Lifting your bike over and over again in that shitty weather makes one forget about the holiday feeling…

A little lower…ouch!

It takes until early afternoon before the sun comes peeking through the clouds. The warmth in our faces, the wind drying our clothes… Lovely that is! It makes us forget about the misery and it doesn’t take long before we again truly enjoy the ride. We have a clear view over the piste and the corners tempt me for that little bit of extra fun. A cool breeze, a clear blue sky and no one around. The scenery is all ours and makes for an ideal setting for some nice action pictures or the video with that little bit of extra. The last few days we haven’t been able to take a lot of pictures so it doesn’t take long before the ideal drifting spot is selected. Caro takes place around the corner with our photo and video camera ready. This hero approaches the corner and almost perfectly drifts the bike through it. Caro happily shows me the result and it must be said the picture looks great. But uh… that bike should be a tad lower now shouldn’t it honey? Despite Caro trying to convince me that the picture was just perfect, I decide to give it another try. Just a little more throttle this time, all for that perfect drift. Well… Not exactly. That little extra throttle was just a little too much apparently. The tyre pattern isn’t really 100% off road either, rather 50-50 which is quite a difference compared to real rallye tryes. I should have known better, I know. The rear of the bike breaks out way to heavily and that takes me by surprise. I react in a wrong manner by closing the throttle abruptly. I most definitely shouldn’t have done that: as the rear tyre regains traction, I am thrown off violently, direction clear blue sky. I can see the gravel approaching and my helmet smacks on the ground quite heavily. I land on my chest and the bike rolls over about three times to come to a stop just 20 cms away from me. I try to get back on my feet, still groggy and panting for breath. Fuck! I hope the bike is allright. But then I suddenly feel something isn’t right as I see my left hand dangling from my wrist… I go down again. This is no good.

Trip report: Iceland 2011. After the crash... - Motomorgana, nomads riding around the world on a motorbike adventure.
After the crash...
Caro is immediately with me and before the fracture even starts hurting, we manage to take off my body armour and I go lie on the ground. This is where the trip ends… This was it, Iceland on a motorbike… It’s been my own bloody fault that’s for sure! I curse myself a thousand times for always trying to push my boundaries. I feel nauseous and I take a shitload of painkillers. But we are unable to find that bloody codeine. The mosquitoes don’t bother me any longer. Go on, bite me you little monsters! It takes multiple attempts to get in touch with emergency services and about 2 hours later, our bikes are parked at a nearby farm and the Rescue Rangers take us to the nearest medical post in 2 of those enormously wheeled 4WD vehicles. About ten hours after my roll, we arrive at the emergency department of the Akureyri hospital and after another restless night I am ready for surgery. With a plaster cast and a bit of extra metal in my wrist, the bikes or what is left of them are send back home and we finish our trip in a rental 4WD. We’re not giving up on Iceland, oh no! this country is just too beautiful!