We rose early to drive the two, three hours from Onundarhorn to hike Glymur Falls (3.8 miles, 1,000 ft elevation gain) in the only day forecasted to be sunny on our trip. It meant doubling back the way we came, but fortunately we were booked for two nights in the South.
I was dragging, but optimistic to see the second (?) highest waterfall in Iceland. Even before we got to the trailhead a smaller, charming waterfall demanded a pit stop. This would be a theme on our trip, so lucky! Sweeping swooping green slopes gave way to a waterway on one side.
I drove for part, getting to learn new roundabout conventions first-hand, including a gauntlet of six consecutive one. Nothing like rapid repetition to help you work things out in your brain.
On foot: after some flat, low-brush terrain, past tiny sprawling civilizations of mosi over rock, and Vottahellir cave (full of legends! And a plaque!) we got to an icy stream. The decision to cross at a wider but shallower point turned out well. I was very glad to have bothered to pack hiking poles mid-stream. What was icy cold turned to pins and needles of pain then, and my brain got to tell my legs to keep going, and faster(!) while my legs threatened to stop working from thinking they were on fire, and to give up all function. 
Reykjavik Roasters was in the university area of town. Early on a Sunday, it had a hushed but not unfriendly atmosphere tinged with a hipster coffee shop vibe familiar to Seattlites. My oat pudding breakfast even had chia seeds served in a mason jar.
As we drove out of town, I was at first struck by the prevalence of blocky buildings.
I felt a vague awareness I was supposed to find them ugly, surprised instead to find a quiet calm in the uniformity of seeing so many blocky buildings set side by side. Perhaps they were built by a somewhat boring but practical people.
This is the first installment of my #100DaysofAllThingsWater per Day 1/100 of the the #100DayProject kickoff. I’ve got some ideas jotted down, but am working first on the long-procrastinated scribing of my backlogged travel adventures from Iceland. Water-related, per the name, and the landscape. I’m setting a minimum of 5 minutes a day to work on this and post something related on Instagram. Follow me there to get more! fresh! content!
Sunday Morning. We arrived bright-eyed but sleep-starved, at 6:30 AM on a Sunday. The forecast had been for overcast sky and drizzly rain all week, which wasn’t a step down from Autumn in Seattle. I had red that it was a strange land, but being there was still a whole other reality. The sky lightened and the sun rose, but through some cosmic joke, that white orb stayed floating across the sky around 45 degrees, as though uncertain we were worthy of more. Then, gradually, she would sink back down around six. At least for now, it was dry, and not too blustery. We count ourselves lucky for what sun there was.
After a stroll outside to a lengthy line of uncertain-looking new arrivals, we beat the twenty-odd other travellers to the desk at Gold Car/Blue. The two employees at the desk seemed conspicuously lacking in that friendly, reflexive smile often associated with customer service, until I remembered we were not in the U.S. They apologized repeatedly for the wait and explained and re-explained to each new customer in soft, stoic, tones.
The driver orientation was both alarming and fascinating. I felt smug that we had reserved an all-wheel-drive vehicle, daunted by the various sheep and one-lane-related signs, yet adventurous enough to add myself to the driver’s list. The offers of rock chip coverage and warnings not to off-road were plenty. After more waiting, we were off and cruising out of Keflavik, stopping for coffee at Reykjavik Roasters, and on the road out of town toward Thingvellir.
1] Iceland logistip: we’d been warned car rental in Iceland would be a substantial part of budget, renting a All-Wheel-Drive/4WD with a local car rental agency was definitely cheaper than it would have been. As of 2017, it was $79,185 Krona, a little under $800 USD. We had a good discount via large corporate employer affiliation [$145], so estimate just under $1k for budget of 8 days.
Faithful readers may be asking, “where’ve you been, Yiling?” All over. Here is a list:
– Mount Adams at 9,000 feet elevation, getting altitude sickness, then waking up feeling extra grateful to be past it. Hooray!
– Just outside the faux Bavarian town of Leavenworth, bouldering for the first time
– Cheering on my spouse and his good friends who scaled Mount Rainier successfully.
– developing personal projects to help build community via food systems Continue Reading
Happy Friendly Friday, Folks!
It’s Fall, and the start of a new school year for many. What do you do to keep everyone fed and full of healthy energy to get things done?
I explore one option here.
While hosting family this summer, we gave those partially-prepped ready-to-cook meals a try, and started with Amazon’s kits, newly on the market. The lucky couple getting married Washington, Alanna & Alex even played guinea pig, and Kris picked up the slack when I started to feel a little spun around running multiple meal trials at once.* Continue Reading
When I was a kid in Minnesota, I went to this one summer day camp where they taught us, among other things,* to waterproof regular matches by painting clear nail polish on them. Years later living in Seattle, I diligently painted and dried each match this way. That’s the Dahlia Lounge matches you see in the picture. Then for about 4 years I brought them with for car camping and found they were annoyingly hard to strike, delaying my access to delicious and/or experimental dehydrated camp meals. I ended up defaulting to regular ones, like the ones above from Fish and Game Hudson here. Conclusion: you could also always go for survival matches like the ones above, or regular ones in a ziploc bag. Sometimes DIY is overrated.
*I vaguely recall them also teaching us to cut radishes into rose shapes…
There’s a new colorful set of creatures out in the lush urban jungle of Seattle. As native Seattlites hurry sweatily through the last summer “heat wave” of 76-80 degree weather, you might glimpse a flash of green and yellow behind a tree, a cheery orange appendage sidling up to the pavement, or a blur of both, speeding haphazardly to the next traffic light as they flirt with each other to see who handles best. What’s the skinny? Continue Reading