Crossing Jökuldalsheiði

August 2, 1999 I circled back through Egilsstaðir, stopping only to drop off some mail and to stuff my face with pastry. Then it started raining. Lovely. The road climbed gradually for the next 20 km before entering Jökuldalur, then the road followed the river. The road turned to dirt, but it was the good speedy stuff, smooth and packed and faster rolling than most asphalt. After 85 km the road climbed and climbed for many kilometers. Sænautasel
Sænautesel, this was one of the favorite places of my trip. It was a fairly long ride, 103 km and much of it was climbing high onto the heath of Jökuldalsheiði. The road was mostly good dirt, but it had been misting all day. I was looking for a campsite, when I saw a sign for Sænautesel. The sign had the symbols for scenery and camping, but I knew nothing else. I turned onto the track and followed the rough road (the F907) for 5 km. Out of the mist this fantastic farm house appeared looking like little more than a haystack with windows.

The Story of Sænautasel
The farm of Sænautasel dates to 1843. It was farmed until 1943 except for the period of 1875-1880 when the ash from the Askja eruption made the site unlivable. During that 100 years 9 different families lived there, the last for 36 years. The high heath is poor farming. The farming here consisted of trying to keep the sheep alive from year to year. Winters were hard, so as much grass as possible had to be cut and stored each summer to try and keep the sheep alive until spring. Sænautesel had up to 100 sheep, but the average was 66 per year. There were at one time 13 farms on the heath, the last was abandoned in 1946. The farm house was rebuilt in 1992. There is a couple that stay there during the summer serving waffles and coffee to people passing by and maintaining the campground.

Oddly enough, just as I arrived at Sænautasel, Jo and Andy arrived from the other direction. I'd had a long day riding in the mist, but they had had a long day pushing their bikes through sand trying to get into Askja. There had been a jokullaup from the volcano Kreppa, so the river fords were flooded and they were turned back. Hearing that the farmhouse served coffee and waffles we went over for a visit. The woman at the farm led us into the turf structure and seated us in the nice warm kitchen. The man was making waffles so we could wolf them down hot. This was so good after a long wet day, it is etched in my memory. There were 5 other guests. No one else spoke english there, but I was able to talk a bit with an older woman in

Norwegian. She was visiting with her husband, who may have been about 70. She said her husband was born there. I repeated that to be sure I understood and she pointed to the upstairs loft and emphasized, "he was born there." So cool.
I rinsed the mud off in my legs in the lake and ate a dinner of freeze dried turkey stuff (not stuffing) and blåbær soup. Then into bed and read more of "Independent People" Sænautasel was making the book come alive.
August 3, 1999
The three of us continued on towards Myvatn, via the main highway. The highway is good dirt, but very high and by the end of the day had climbed 4 high summits. Uphills were long grinds, often into the clouds.
Riding under a cloud

The weather was reasonable enough for us, but this was not a stretch of road to be taken too lightly since it was so high and exposed. We met a german, no sleeping bag, no tent, shorts and short jersey (it was only 10 C) at the top of the last pass. He said, "Yes it's cold, but at least I am at the top." I chuckeled a bit and informed him that he only had 80 km and four more passes to ride over before he could find lodging. Stupid, really stupid.
Jo and Andy

Want to read a great book? It's about a poor farmer that lives on the heath in Iceland.
Check out "Independent People" by Haldor Laxness. It won a Nobel Prize in literature in 1955 and was voted
the best Icelandic book of the 20th century (by Icelanders, who seem to have all read it).

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

Oddly enough, just as I arrived at Sænautasel, Jo and Andy arrived from the other direction. I'd had a long day riding in the mist, but they had had a long day pushing their bikes through sand trying to get into Askja. There had been a jokullaup from the volcano Kreppa, so the river fords were flooded and they were turned back. Hearing that the farmhouse served coffee and waffles we went over for a visit. The woman at the farm led us into the turf structure and seated us in the nice warm kitchen. The man was making waffles so we could wolf them down hot. This was so good after a long wet day, it is etched in my memory. There were 5 other guests. No one else spoke english there, but I was able to talk a bit with an older woman in
Norwegian. She was visiting with her husband, who may have been about 70. She said her husband was born there. I repeated that to be sure I understood and she pointed to the upstairs loft and emphasized, "he was born there." So cool. I rinsed the mud off in my legs in the lake and ate a dinner of freeze dried turkey stuff (not stuffing) and blåbær soup. Then into bed and read more of "Independent People" Sænautasel was making the book come alive. August 3, 1999 The three of us continued on towards Myvatn, via the main highway. The highway is good dirt, but very high and by the end of the day had climbed 4 high summits. Uphills were long grinds, often into the clouds.	Riding under a cloud
The weather was reasonable enough for us, but this was not a stretch of road to be taken too lightly since it was so high and exposed. We met a german, no sleeping bag, no tent, shorts and short jersey (it was only 10 C) at the top of the last pass. He said, "Yes it's cold, but at least I am at the top." I chuckeled a bit and informed him that he only had 80 km and four more passes to ride over before he could find lodging. Stupid, really stupid.	Jo and Andy

Crossing Jökuldalsheiði

August 2, 1999