Finding my way to Iceland has been on my top five for years. For the longest time all I knew about Iceland was that it was green, not icy, and that it ranks in the top spots for the Human Development Index. This didn’t interest me all that much as a ten year-old. Then I heard that you can bicycle around the perimeter of the island. Now it was a destination. When I heard that the country is not only green but beautiful and volcanic, and that the people of Iceland weave some of the warmest sweaters imaginable, my mind was made up. Someday I would bike Iceland.
Today, quite a while later, in hopes to galvanize my own wanderlust and of course to tickle a few fancies, I will dispense all the highlights of this research, which I have not yet utilized. Take for instance the volcanic history. Iceland’s distinct geologic qualifications can go head to head against Yellowstone, that supervolcanic throne. A cluster of active volcanoes on what some believe is a mantle plume, riding two tectonic plates, in the same region as glaciers and icecaps (with eruptions possible above or below ground), yields a very interesting countryside indeed.
A setting as individual and varied as Iceland’s terrain begs a bike. Where there is a visible continental shift, canyons over hotspots, and magnificent glacial rivers amplified by the seasons in addition to volcanic activity, the immediate groundcover is as fascinating as the landscape. This is why biking the Ring Road optimizes your visit. Most of Route 1, “the” road, has been paved, but honestly, that’s not too much of a bother, when you’re looking at a month on that contraption. The interior of the island is wasteland (actually, most of the interior has not been developed, with exceptions of some dissecting bus routes and tourist traps), whereas the coast offered sustainable resources, and so the perimeter route was born, connecting the bulk of the population in a ring.
We begin at the international airport at Reykjavik. From there, my first stop is Þingvellir (Thingvellir) National Park, where geology and politics converge: here is the site that has hosted significant portions of Iceland’s gubernatorial history, which includes a very early parliament, and the location where the Gods were officially replaced by just the one. It is here that the miracles of earth science creak from below, splitting the Almannagjá canyon along the continental drift, shaking the National Park with regular seismological activity.
On southward: where we leave most of the tourists at Thingvellir, and experience the open countryside. Much of the road is meandering farmland, with dots of the mountains always sitting like pebbles in the distance of horizon photographs. Along the belly of the island, where the views grow in scope as the land gets odder, Iceland begins to show off. Dunes and old lavaflows enter the mix while the road hedges the mountains, and you must stop to touch everything around you.
Peddling northeast, the Vatnajökull glacier (which is technically redundant) affects the landscape with its, wait for it, lava desert. Inside its massive holdings are two volcanoes.
As we get in better shape, learn to pace ourselves and sleep in very very small towns and most often in a durable tent, we head north. Note: my research has always found maps with the routes following this direction, although clockwise is recommended for taking advantage of the trade winds.
Above the glacier the road gets a little tricky, and we’re in new territory. Here in the east fjords, the views are more interesting, and the road will vie for your attention as well, as we head for the desert. The road goes inland from the fjords, and uphill, to reach exposed flatlands, where it is only sporadically paved, and I’d surmise you’re reminded that you are very far north indeed. At this point we may choose to move along the more inland route, towards Mývatn. The nature reserve in this area should be avoided at certain times during the summer (part of the name comes from the midge fly, which seems rather daunting when there are pseudocraters and a volcano nearby that could have inspired a more pleasing title), but otherwise this touristy area will be a welcome refresher. Birdwatchers, enjoy.
Finishing off the trip south and west, the fjords of Iceland set the scene, and we begin to familiarize ourselves with lavafields and glaciers. The road may sound long, arduous, and lonely, but the tourist industry is growing, cyclists are interested, and the people are rated fourth happiest in the world. Sounds like a nice diversion to me. Bring your geology textbook.
Guest writer Sara Haxby once entertained dreams of becoming a trucker, and seeing the entire country from the windshield of her big-rig. Today, she works a regular nine-to-five but still finds time to travel the globe and to share her stories with Realtravel.
