Since we’re going from one nowhere to another nowhere there is no need to leave early. Therefore we decide to take it easy in the morning. My companions are packed sooner than I am and since Susann claims here legs don’t feel too good today they will leave right away expecting I will catch up later. The Spanish cyclists staying next to my tent also decided to take it slower than yesterday when they came in at nearly midnight after a 120 kilometres stage in 14 hours. There brunch is formed something that is either soup with too much pasta or pasta with too much sauce. I’m invited to join but I have the Swiss to catch up with and they are already nearly half an hour gone by now.
Entering the stone desert of Kjölur
Back on the main track I enter the grey stony desert again. The road undulated endlessly and several dust plumes show where cars are going. After several kilometres a four-wheel drive campervan passes me; it is the Dutch couple I met in the pool last evening. They wish me good luck and a few seconds after they have disappeared behind one of the many little hills my rear tire goes flat. With a deep sigh I take my panniers of and demount my wheel before I sit down at the dusty roadside to repair my tire. All together it is 15 minutes later before I can resume my way but unfortunately not for long. Only 10 minutes later as I pass a small lake I feel my rear wheel bump and looking back I see my tire is slowly but surely going flat again. Again I sit down and it appears that only a few millimetres next to the patch I just glued on there is tiny whole that I have overlooked. A second patch is put on and on I go. I am a considerable distance behind my Swiss companions now I presume I won’t see them until they pitch their tent somewhere. The road goes on and on while slowly climbing. From a far distance I can see the summit of the road but it takes ages to get closer. When it is not so far away anymore I spot two people on the top and they start waving to me. After a short but terribly steep section I arrive at the summit and to my surprise it is my companions who have been waiting for me. As they told me they were wondering whether I stayed for the spaghetti of the Spanish cyclists but after enquiring a passing car they’d learnt that I had a flat tire. In spite of that they haven’t been waiting for much longer that half an hour, or so they say. I take a quick look around while eating two Mars bars and though the altitude lines on the map tell me this is the summit of a col it is hard to tell from the landscape. Everywhere there is the undulating stone desert that looks flat. However, when we continue we are clearly going downhill, at some parts even pretty steep.
Again Kjölur - note the dust plume of the oncoming car
On both sides we have a great view on the glaciers and I cannot recall having seen such spectacular landscape ever before. At this point there are some landmarks and we are more or less following a river what makes the area a bit more earthly than where we just came from. In silence we continue for another two hours until we reach the point where we more or less planned to pitch our tents for the night. Looking around we actually spot some green vegetation and we take a closer look. It is a flat area of several hundred square meters with real grass. We search for the least green part to pitch our tents in order to minimize the damage. From our tents we have a splendid view over the Hvítárvatn lake and the glacier behind it that goes down into the lake. The river just in front of us has clear water instead of the common milky green glacier water so we can take our daily “bath” again. Somewhere on the other side of the river must be the Hvítárnes trekking hut. There is only one disadvantage here: millions of (non stinging) mosquitoes. There is no wind at all so the bloody animals hang around our tents in huge clouds. Hausie stays calm as always when he prepares dinner but he must have a hard time. It is matter of quickly making something to eat and get in the tent in order to eat it in peace.