Get Ready, Set… Go – Page 11 – Two Travelin' Chicas…

Day Four: Iceland The West Fjords

We woke today to rain… imagine that. We parked our camper van in a field at the campground in Vik, that was already saturated when we arrived. Overnight, however, more campers arrived and have turned the field into a soupy mess. We are planning our exit strategy so we don’t end up axles buried in mud. If and when we get out of here we are heading north west, back along the Ring Road to the beautiful West Fjords.

We planned on stopping back at Ku Ku Campers and seeing if they had a mobile WIFI available, since they were out when we left and I have a perpetual headache from trying to read the maps, yes plural. After driving through Reykjavik and getting horribly lost, we went into the gas station we knew had free wifi and googled directions. We were in luck and picked up the small device and we were PLUGGED IN!

So the biggest problem with driving through Iceland is the beauty. OK… beauty is a problem? Oh yes… There are so many waterfalls, cliffs and quaint little homes built right into the sides of mountains with dirt and grass covering the roofs. There are rock formations, crashing waves, black sand beaches and bird colonies. The thing that has struck us the most is the cleanliness. The roads are beautifully paved, although quite narrow. The little towns have horse farms, fluffy lambs and each home has its own waterfall. The mountains bleed waterfalls.

We took out time and enjoyed little unplanned stop-offs. We drove through a three km tunnel under the ocean and onto an island. We had Siri telling us the way (ok Garmin) as we entered each little town and crossroad. The immensity of this little island just can’t be understood until you are actually exploring her byways.

We arrived at camp pretty late and settled in. The rain had finally let up and we saw blue sky. We had one of those fire logs and lit it and pretended we were having a fire. Then off to bed.

Day Two Iceland: Doing Things the Old Fashion Way

Eight am… two am… I tell my brain it’s eight, my body and brain argue with me for half the day then finally my stomach settles and my brain clears itself of the jet lag fog.

Chris and I desire to head to two tourist spots today. This is totally out of sorts for us. We visited a place that two continental plates come together. Iceland experiences 100 tremors a day… maybe that’s why I feel sea sick? This was the place of the first parliament in 930 AD. There was a cool waterfall and a huge lake. If the wind and rain weren’t so bad we might have been able to see the immensity of this lake.

We took our time on back roads to avoid the huge tourist buses. Off to Gullfoss and the most visited waterfall in Iceland. It is an experience that slowly unfolds itself. Now me, I love geology and the history of the earth. It amazes me that a glacier can melt into a river… that river carves away through the earth to expose, on this island, thousands of years of geological evolution. Unlike home where we have ancient bones, this island is relatively new in geological terms… and still evolving.

Here-in lies the fun part of the day. Twenty five years ago, Chris and I took off and drove 27,000 miles, covering 22 states all using old fashion maps. Today we can use Google Maps, the Internet and Garmin to get where we need to go. That’s all good… IF you know where you are going. On this island, you can’t pronounce a single towns name. We have bought three maps and books because we were not able to rent a mobile wifi for our camper van. We are totally disconnected in a day and age were we “google” everything. We have to read about the island and try to find the points that go un-touristy. We do have a Garmin. She, however, always seems to give us the choice of two routes. Hello… if you don’t know where you’re going… how can you decide?

Medical Tourism… Everything We Learned and Need to Pass Along

Living in the USA, we all feel entitled, if you will, to everything from beautiful groceries at the market, clean water, good healthcare and creature comforts we seem to feel we need. All of this comes with a huge price to pay.

The world is aware that our crazy commander and creep has made it his mission to take as many of the above away as he can. Of course he is “rich” and can afford medical care, medical insurance and the sky high deductibles that we are forced to sign up for in order to bring down astronomical premiums.

Then you look at treatments like dental work. Even if you do have insurance for this, you will still pay hundreds and hundreds of hard earned dollars in order to get a painful tooth handled. It’s not like you can ignore it until it’s more convenient… therein lies the reason for this post.

Chris broke her back molar a year or so ago and went to the dentist who “patched her up”. Temporary fix $400. Last week she was on a trip for work and the “temporary fix” fell off. She was in immediate pain and called the doc. They quoted her $1200 for a permanent crown. OMG! So $400 plus $1200 is way too much and hard to stomach. Enter Mexico…

For years I have been reading about Medical Tourism. Hundreds of thousands of people travel to other countries for life saving treatments, why not travel for dental work? Why not travel for minor procedures that at home would be outrageous?

A few years back I twisted my knee chasing some howler monkeys on a muddy trail in Costa Rica. It swelled up and became too painful to bear weight. I had travel insurance but they required me to go see a doctor in country. I took a taxi to the doctor’s office. It looked like a small storefront shop with a shingle hanging outside with the doctor’s name. I walked in and was warmly greeted by a young man who spoke perfect english. His office was quaint with a few chairs and a coffee table, a small TV and AC.

He took me right into his exam room which was clean and looked like any exam room you’ve ever been in. He asked me a barrage of questions and then proceeded to examine my injured knee. He called his assistant in to take me to get an x-ray right in the next room. Twenty minutes later I walked out of his office with a full explanation of what he felt was wrong and a knee brace and pain medicine… all for $50 USD. At home the x-ray alone would have been more than $50, PLUS the doctor would have buzzed into the room pulled and pushed on my leg and left the room never to be seen again. In a week or two I would receive a bill for $650 for the inst-care.

To wrap this up, if you are afraid and nervous, that’s fine. Just as in the US or where ever you may be from, do your homework. There are hacks everywhere. There are sites you can access that give you step by step instructions. They have done research and you can reach out to them if you have questions. The world is a much smaller… and expensive place. If you are too scared and need to live in your little comfortable box, I get it. There’s a lot out there… outside of your little box. LIVE!

This is the dentist we just used:

www.tijuanamexicodentist.com

Oh… Its Just Another Waterfall

When one talks about Iceland and points of interest, one must speak about waterfalls. Iceland has around 120 well known, named waterfalls… and thousands of smaller ones that are located on the river gorges,lava fields and underground springs falling over huge basalt cliffs. Some seem to come right out of the ground, others are the product of meandering streams and huge rivers.

Throughout creation, water has been one of the biggest natural forces on our little blue ball. Iceland has one of the biggest concentrations of these powerful wonders. In Iceland a waterfall is called a “foss”. They range from small wispy ribbons of water, to raging rock crushing torrents. Some cascade peacefully over the basalt and disappear deep into a crevasse, others thunder over tall cliff faces waging war with boulders and flame colored rock. Every year new waterfalls spring up from glacier melt and highland snowmelt

The Gullfoss is the best known and most visited falls, located on The Golden Circle Road. Glymur is the tallest named falls (122 meters) and can’t be seen without a pretty strenuous hike. The list goes on and on. Each new waterfall has its own character. Each plays a vital roll in the ever changing landscape of this little island known as Iceland.

Icelandic Horses: A Breed of Its Own

A small island deserves a small horse! The Icelandic ponies are actually horses. Though short in stature, usually between 13 and 15 hands, they are registered by breeders as a horse. This small horse is a very hardy breed and suffer from far less diseases than a mainland horse. The law does not let these small guys to be exported and no other breeds to be imported. If one ever were to leave the island, they are never allowed to return, ensuring the purity of this majestic breed.

The Icelandic horse has even been a focal point in many Norse Myths. They were thought to be a symbol of fertility so they often were sacrificed by early Norse settlers. The horses were revered by warriors during the Medieval period and were often made to fight each other for breeding rights. A warrior killed in battle would often be sent to Valhalla with his Nobel Steed by his side.

Natural selection often played a role in these stallions lives. In the early medieval times the horses would starve or succumb to the brutal winter winds and cold. Exposure to the elements, notwithstanding volcanic eruptions, famine and sacrifice, often became the end to whole herds. The breed was once thought descendent from the Shetland, Faroe Pony and the Norwegian Fjord horse. In the early 9th century, the Icelandic Parliament prohibited the inbreeding of outside horses. This act in 992 AD lead eventually to a pure breed. For over 1,000 years the Icelandic horse has been a pure breed.

The characteristic flowing mane, short legs, well proportioned head, incredible weight bearing capacities, muscular shoulders and slightly sloping long backs, make this an incredibly valuable prized possession. The breed has an average life span of 30 good years, with recorded life spans of over 50 years. They are known for having two distinctive gaits, the Tölt, which is a four beat stride good for comfortably covering great distances at explosive accelerations. The second is called flugskeið or “flying pace”. This is a fast and smooth gait used to pace the horse during a race. This is mostly used for short bursts but not a long distance run. An amazing breed indeed.

A trip on the back of an Icelandic is a great way to explore the terrain of Iceland. The horse is sure-footed and fearless, yet comfortable to ride, even for the beginner. There are numerous farms that offer guests this pleasurable past time. There is nothing like getting up into the wilds of the highlands on the back of one of these majestic steeds.

When in Iceland, search out a farm offering tours and ride one of these wild and adventurous horses. These are treasured companions and loyal servants. They have earned their place in the past and future of Iceland.

The Land of the Midnight Sun… Planning a trip to Iceland

Planning our next big adventure… Iceland! Part of travel is the planning. Chris and I were talking one day and she asked, “where do you want to go for your birthday this year?” We of course kicked around several local destinations. Folk and Blues Festivals. Beaches and rivers. Wild, white water rafting trips in the West. Nothing was tickling my fancy until… Chris spouted out “lets go to Iceland!” I was a bit taken back since it was so far from our normal travel parameters. “Sure… why not?”

In the next weeks the planning began. We found that the costs involved with traveling to Iceland were daunting. The airfare is not that bad if you can be a bit flexible. We spent hours on the phone over two days with Delta trying to find flights we could use our medallion upgrades on. We searched the end of August through the end of September until… finally 10 days that worked out!

Next we explored tours and hotels. JEEZ! Three thousand per person was just too rich for our blood! We continued to do our research over the next few weeks. Blog after blog, travel site after travel site. No matter who we checked out it was still looking like this was a destination we were gonna have to forget about. Finally we found it… CAMPING!

This time of year there is about 20 hours of sun. That really opened up the island to camping. There were many choices but again, we found out that this is a very popular way to explore this prime-evil island. We went with http://www.kukucampers.is/ . For a mere $2,000 we rented a VW Camper van, equipped with all you need to sleep 5 people, has a stove for cooking… important when the cost of eating out could bankrupt most people… a sink and small fridge. Who needs more?

Now for the unknowns… how much is gas? It is 835 miles around the Ring Road. That will be somewhere about 35 to 40 gallons of gas, OK not too bad… we hope. I guess if gas is $4.00 a gallon that’s a small chunk of change. There are 170 campsites around the island. Note: if you are camping with a tent, you can pitch the tent just about anywhere not in site of a home. If you are in a camper though, you must utilize one of the campgrounds.

Campsites are open May through the end of September. Most all have hot thermal pools or a regular pool, bathrooms or VIP toilets, and drinking water. This free guide was invaluable, https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0652/1613/files/Iceland_List_of_Campsites_2017_-_Aning_Guide.pdf?4780695065381767861.

OK, handled… next is what to see? Tourism is huge on Iceland. That being said, we expect to run into hundreds of tourists. Well actually in the land of fire, ice and water, there are plenty of wild spaces if you dare to venture a bit off the beaten path. Listen, there have been many who have gone before us. We don’t have to recreate the wheel, just pick and choose what you really want to see.

OK again this was difficult. This is why we didn’t take a tour but will take what those tours hit on to plan our travel. First we thought we’d travel the North, but then we wanted to see the Glacier Lagoon… oops that’s way in the southwest. So we may resign ourselves to attempting the entire Ring Road. Iceland is just too cool to pick and choose one area over another.

So for now that’s where we stand. We will post more information as it becomes available. The investigation continues. Two weeks to go!

Two Miles High: A Rocky Mountain Tail: Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: We’re Going Home

Breeze and I sat down on the side of the trail enjoying some scratches and reciprocating licks. My head pounded in the blazing morning sun. My mouth was getting that Velcro feeling again. Every time I stood up I felt faint and nauseous. I searched for two saplings or strong downed branches I could use to steady myself as I hiked the last few miles. Of course there was no guarantee we would find anybody at the lake, but it was a favorite camp spot for many hikers.

I played songs in my head as I hiked on. Breeze would come run circles around me and run off ahead. Each step corresponded with the pounding in my head. My mouth was a desert and I envisioned the lake just a few steps ahead. The sun was blazing and I just wanted to drop my pack and lie down in the cool shady areas just off the trail. I came upon another stream and I had a literal panic attack. Although it was not rushing as fast and was not nearly as wide I froze in my tracks.

I am not sure what happened. When I came to, breeze was lying beside me. I could hear the stream. I opened my eyes and the shadows had grown long and shaded the trail. I was lying on my side in a crumpled up lump of human and backpack with my dog curled up beside me. I sat up and was reminded of my head again. I focused on the stream and knew there was no going back. Breeze ran a circle around me and bounded across the stream with ease. I struggled to get to my feet without passing out and moved forward one slow step at a time until I was on the other side of the stream.

I looked at my watch… 4:55pm. I had been out for hours. I dropped my pack and dug out my pot. I chugged down seven or eight pots of water until I thought I would puke. I doused my aching head with pots full of water. It was icy cold and I could feel my swollen eyes and hair matted with blood as I wiped my face and wrung out my hair. I stood up and pointed my body in the direction it needed to go and demanded it to move forward. Everything took so much effort.

I walked in a trancelike state for what seemed like hours. In my blurry gaze I saw a sliver of blue. I opened my eyes wider and stopped. As things came into focus I could see the lake. I had made it. I sat on a rock that was just the right height as to not make me bend over or sit too far down and listened. I could hear the birds, the stream entering the lake, and the rustling of the wind in the trees. I scanned the horizon and followed the outline of the lake for a wisp of smoke. I unhooked my pack and let it fall to the ground. I hadn’t the energy to move another inch.

As the sun dropped below the ridge, I could hear the sound of the brookies jumping out of the water scooping up the larve of the night insects. I opened my eyes again and a quarter the way around the lake I saw two figures come out of the woods and enter the water, fishing poles in hand. I attempted to yell, nothing but a grunt came out. I attempted to stand up but my legs failed to support my weight. Breeze came over as if to sense my urgency. I told him to “go get the men” and pointed at the figures in the water. He cocked his head as I said it again, looked over his shoulder, then took off. I closed my eyes and listened intently. I could hear Breeze barking crazy and splashing around in the water. I could hear the voices of the men calling to him. I blacked out again.

I heard a commotion in my brain. I was in some other realm of consciousness. The roar in my ears grew silent and I heard voices. I felt the wet licks in my ear and on my face. I felt a cold splash of water and I opened my eyes. There were men standing all around me. I found Breeze sitting beside me and stroked his fur, “good boy I muttered”, and passed out again as I heard a voice say, “we’re gonna get you out of here.”

Two Miles High: A Rocky Mountain Tail: Chapter Six

Chapter Six: The Final Miles

After a good nights sleep, I woke to the pink glow of the morning’s dawn on a few high clouds. I daydreamed of eggs and bacon frying in a pan. The smell of fresh biscuits and sweet creamy butter. The feel of a soft tongue kissing my ear… Breeze you little shit! I stretched and sat up and evaluated my head wound. It was beginning to scab up some and still felt quite deep and painful. I retired the towel and crawled out of my tent. On the outside of the vestibule was something I couldn’t quiet make out. It was a pheasant hen. Breeze had provided again.

I pulled on my long johns and fleece shirt and went about stoking the fire back up. Breeze sat and watched I as prepared the hen as best as I could to be breakfast. Again Breeze got the parts I couldn’t quite stomach including a lot of internal stuff I couldn’t quite identify. I gave him the last of his canned food. I was down to two bags of food. Everything else had been washed out of the pack when it tore open. I was glad I separated the freeze dried food from the fresh and canned food. At least I had something and with Breeze being my provider, I doubt we would starve.

I pulled out my Garmin to see what kind of signal I might get… if it worked at all. The screen had been shattered and one button pushed inside. I knew it was waterproof but with a busted screen I didn’t want to take the chance of powering it up till I was sure it was good and dry. I had separated the batteries and left the back cover off. Wrapped it in my wool sock, yes I only had one left, and hooked it to the top of my pack where it might get some sun. It was the moment of truth. This was the biggest clearing I had come across in two days. Would it power up and triangulate? If it did would I be able to see anything on the busted screen?

I put it back in the sock and broke down camp. I figured I would need to get to the lake by noon and I might catch another hiker passing through. I still felt like the Trail should be north. Breeze was excited to hit the trail again. I pulled out the Garmin and flicked the switch. At first there was a sorta white glow on the busted screen, then a flash or two of color. I watched with my fingers and toes crossed. My heart sunk as the screen went black. Damn boy, we are on our own…

I could see the mountains in the distance, snow capped and silent. I could see a familiar landmark that I remembered reading about in the guide book. I pulled out my phone that had been saved by days in a bag of freeze dried chicken and rice, and opened up the picture I had taken. I guessed the trail shouldn’t be too far off and with the trees thinning out I might actually find it today and soon. I set off towards the north keeping the land mark always at 11:00. At 9:36am we stumbled upon the trail. I dropped my pack and scrambled up a tree and could see the lake I had seen from the top of the last pass! We had found the right trail. Only a few miles to go…

Two MIles High: A Rocky Mountain Tail: Chapter Five

Chapter Five: In the End… It’s the Little Things That Matter

Dawn comes early this time of year. Over twenty four hours have passed since I woke up in my own bed, complaining about how hot it was. Since I had a good breakfast and double checked my pack and called everyone on my team of drivers. This morning I am lying here awake wondering which way to go? Forward or back? Do I call in a rescue if I can get the Garmin to work? I still need to find the trail before I can decide which way to go. I sat up and looked around.

Breeze was lying with all fours in the air, head cocked towards me and smiling, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. I looked around and all I could see was dead trees. I struggled to get to my feet as I swooned as I attempted to stand. My head was pounding with the worse headache I have ever had. I am pretty sure I have a concussion or something. I sip down the rest of the water I boiled the night before but it did nothing to quench my thirst. I dug through my pack and laid out my clothes on a few dead trees anticipating the sun to come over the ridge soon. I pulled out another bag of food, boiled some more water and made breakfast.

Breeze had taken off to do whatever it is he needs to do. I sat down and enjoyed my meal. I sipped down two more pots of boiled water over the next hour and called for Breeze. I hear him bounding through the trees and he arrives with a squirrel in his jaws. He gently places it in front of me and gives it a nudge. I pick it up and checked it out for bugs or whatever lives on squirrels. Seemed pretty clean and was obviously killed by the dog. I dug in my pack again and found my Leatherman, yes the one I was bitching about. I carefully slit the belly of the squirrel open and gutted and skinned it like I saw on Bear Grylls. I stoked the fire and stuck it on a spit I cut from a nearby live tree. It smelled a little like chicken and tasted like a rabbit I had eaten once on a dare. I gave Breeze the head and a back leg along with another couple scoops of his canned food. We both sat back against a tree and felt the life course back into our veins.

I took my trail towel and cut a slice off it to wrap around my head to reduce the headache and close my wound a bit. I checked my watch… 3:45pm. The sun had been overhead for most of the day and I had dried out everything quite nicely. I had to take a few cat naps in between the rotisserie of my belongings. Breeze would take off and come back to check on me every so often. He’d kiss my face and nudge me awake. Probably a good thing with a head injury. I decided I needed to drink a bit more water and be off by 6 pm.

I packed all my belongings into my tattered pack and hoisted it onto my back and decided I needed to head north. Since as far as I could see was dense trees and acres of dead trees standing, fallen to the ground in huge tangles and ones leaning on other dead ones. I choose my direction carefully and wound my way over under and through the forest, so as to avoid as many climbing challenges as possible. The dead leaning trees creaked eerily as the wind blew. It was getting near dark again I still had yet to find the trail.

Tired and hungry, burning with thirst again, head pounding at a dizzying level, I decided to find a camp spot. Breeze was eagerly bouncing about running back and forth from me to an unseen area of the forest. I followed his lead and the trees opened up into a yellow meadow of flowers. There were two 15 foot Aspen trees standing at 15 feet apart. I threw down my pack at the base of one and pulled out my tent and set it up between the two. I love the sound of the aspen leaves in the evening air. I gathered wood and presto I had fire. There was a small trickle of a mountain spring not too far from camp and I boiled as much water as I could before the sun went down then used the last bit in another gourmet freeze dried meal.

Two Miles High: A Rocky Mountain Tail: Chapter Four

Chapter Four: How Dumb Does a Dumb Dog Get?

It was an hour past dark when I finally got through the maze of trees. I found an opening with some soft grass and laid out my sleeping bag and attempted to set up my bivouac. I found my headlamp to be in working order and sought out some dry wood and kindling to get a small fire. My water bottle had been stripped off the pack so all I had to drink out of, carry water in and collect water to boil, was a bit bigger than a good size coffee mug. I thought at least I could get a fire, boil some water and eat a freeze dried meal, I’d be set for tonight at least. I already had a headache and cotton mouth, I felt like my tongue was Velcro and the top of my mouth it’s mate. I was in pretty bad shape… and scared.

In my little safety bag I carry some flint and steel and drier lint soaked in wax. It’s never done me wrong in the past. If I could get a miracle tonight I would sleep much better and stand a chance of making it through the freezing cold night. I smiled at myself as I thought… glad I’m not naked and afraid.

I struck the flint and steel once, twice and the third time a small flame came to life. I held my breath and fed it gingerly. It grew into life and I cried. I sobbed like a little baby. I suddenly heard a crashing coming through the brush and I looked up just in time to see beady red eyes barreling down on me. I braced for impact as I saw it leap into the air. I fell over from the blow and suddenly had a face full of slobber and a very wet 70 lbs of utter joy laying on top of me. “Breeze! You dumb dog… I am so glad to see you.”

I went to my pack and pulled out a small can of dog food I stashed away in case of an emergency. I popped the lid open and dug out a few scoops onto the ground and Breeze scarfed it up in one gulp. “Enjoy your food silly… pickins are getting slim.” I pulled out my little pot and went over to the edge of the swamp and filled it with water. Thirty minutes later I was enjoying a meal made for a king… freezer dried eggs and bacon that was way too salty for my dehydrated state. My mouth filled itself with a spring of saliva as I took a bite.

After my meal I boiled another pot of water, stoked the fire, double checked everything was put away… this is bear country… and Breeze and I covered ourselves up with my slightly drier sleeping bag and passed out.