DAY THREE

In the morning the sun was up and I managed to dry some of my clothes along with the seat on my trike and also managed to get a couple of photographs,

from the tent doorway of Strokkur erupting, before packing up and heading over to where the bus stops.

Geysir

I had decided to get the bus and as we got to Gullfoss (an enormous two tiered waterfall near Geysir), I was feeling a bit of a wimp and mulling over my decision not to go on the track. Just then a whole bunch of what looked to be experienced mountain bikers got aboard all thinking the same "the track is not rideable". I did feel at that point that I had made the right and sensible decision, for once in my life.

My initial assessment of the track had been correct it was far worse than the 365, even the bus with its 4x4 capability had problems negotiating the rocks and ruts. From time to time the track seemed to level out but around the next bend would be a steep hill or stream to cross. We stopped from time to time so that the tourists amongst us who

didn't mind braving a few minutes in the freezing wind could take pictures of the stunning scenery. We were flanked on both sides by huge snow strewn hills and volcanoes ranging from 6or700m to 12-1300m and further on we were able to simultaneously see the Langjokull glacier to the west and the Hofsjokull glacier to the east.

These are two of the smaller glaciers on Iceland but to those onboard they were awesome. The whole landscape between these glaciers resembled the surface of the moon with craters and outcrops and plains of nothing but boulders, only the hardiest of plants grow in the interior and those are pretty hard to find.

As we got further north the weather improved slightly with broken cloud and the odd ray of sunshine, the track improved also but still had sections that made the cyclists amongst us cringe. We crossed the Blanda River after approximately 4 1/2 hours of rough and tumble in the bus and as we passed through some green and pleasant farmland we finally hit the hard surface of Route 1.
 
We turned east onto Route 1 and headed for Akureyri, 1-1/2 hours away. From here on the scenery was anything but boring, the mountains in this area seem to have been cut down to size by the glaciers and you are left with a range of weird flat topped hills.

On arrival in Akureyri I headed for the campsite which, unfortunately was at the top of a very, very steep hill. I found a pitch and whilst fielding a barrage of questions from some local children, I got the tent up and got the burner on for a brew and some food. Later, two Icelanders, Magnus and Oli approached me and said that they had read with great interest about me in the paper, this was also news to me, I found out later that Pall had sent to the Icelandic paper, Morgunbladid, an article about me and the trip.

Magnus and Oli were concerned about where I was heading, they told me that the weather was going to close in and after I'd told them of my exploits on the 365 track they said I was in for more of the same or worse. I told them that I desperately needed to get some miles under my belt for the charity's sponsorship money and to do that I needed to find a route with less hills and wind. They agreed, we got the maps out and went over to their tent to study them carefully. They had a few suggestions but both agreed that by far the best place to be, weather wise and for cycling was the south. We plotted a route and decided that Hofn was the place I should start. I had an enjoyable evening chatting with Magnus, his wife Gudrun, their son, who was sporting a Manchester United shirt, and Oli and his girlfriend Moa.