Hell on the hill

Join us on our adventure as we bike across the breathtaking landscapes of Iceland.

We are The Bikepack, a cycle crazy duo from Gothenburg, we believe in promoting biking as an awesome way to travel, commute, exercise, and have fun. Our Iceland Divide adventure has put us through self-supported biking through the wilderness, glaciers, and storms for ten days, carrying all our equipment and food, and covering 600 km with a 7,000-meter ascent.

Today, we’re heading further south towards the majestic glacier of Vatnajökull, the largest and most voluminous ice cap in Iceland. With our carbon fiber bikes and the widest and thickest tires we could find, we braved the harsh volcanic sand dunes and sharp lava rocks.

No cellphone connection, no worries in the world, just two great friends, and the drizzling rain outside. Join us on our journey and get inspired to embark on your own biking adventure.

Beginning of a hard day..

Our alarm rang and echoed out over the vast nothingness as we started to come alive. It was early morning and we were determined to get back on course and get an early start for a good change of reaching todays distance goal. Todays breakfast was bars in a hurry and Maurten 320 drink mix, mixed with some of our last water.

We deflated our tent and packed up our gear, leaving only steps and tire track in the sand as we jumped on our bikes and rolled away from our lunar sleeping spot. A majestic and at the same time cruel landscaped embraced us with black volcanic sand was everywhere, graphite gray mountains and ridges, and not a single sign of humanity in sight – it was awe-inspiring!

We got on our loaded bikes and headed back to the crossroads where we had diverted from our route the day before and got back to follow our planned route, which would take us just north of the Vatnajökull glacier. Long straight stretches took us south, and as we marveled at the beautiful and unique landscape, we got closer and closer to the glacier. The weather began to get colder, the wind picked up, and the clouds came closer and closer the higher we climbed.

Ranger Ranger

We came up to a crest and around a corner, and suddenly, there was a car with big ballon tires and a roof-tent in the middle of nowhere – what was this?

We rode up to the car and found Emma, an Icelandic ranger who was checking the road as she had never driven on it before. Emma told us about her job as a ranger in Iceland and offered us water, which we gladly accepted. After an interesting conversation, we parted ways, we went where Emma came from, and Emma continued on the road we came from. We parted with our new found friend agreeing on what a nice day it was and amazing weather. Little did we know that this was about to change radically.

As we turned west, our suspicions were confirmed. The wind was a fierce headwind and the rain had started to fall, pelting us with icy drops. We lined up and took turns being at the front pulling the pack onward. The wind picked up even more as we came out on a flatland with a, what it looked like, eternal long straight path across. The wind was howling and we had to really push to keep our momentum and continue onwards. We concurred the flatlands in what felt like forever, happy about potentially finding some shelter and easier riding as we realised that our path lead straight up the mountain. The temperature hovered around freezing, making our already challenging journey even more difficult as we battered from a long day of cycling and the brutal elements started to ascend the mounting in our way.

The terrain was rough, with stones that looked like arrowheads jutting out of the ground, and we struggled to keep our bikes upright. But there was no turning back now. The conditions were incredibly tough, and if there had been an option to quit, it would have been tempting! We kept moving forward because there was no one to call to pick us up and turning back was no option. Parts of the stretch were also impassable, so we had to carry our bikes while the surface had turned into stones.

The only way was up and forward from here!

Hell on the Hill

Gore-tex once again proved it’s weight in gold as we continued to defy the wind and the rain as our gear in an incredible way kept us dry and as warm as we could. The incline had now become even steeper and that together with the scattered rocks all over the mountain made it impossible to ride at times. We pushed our bikes upwards and onwards in the head wind, and freezing stormy rain stopping every 50 meters to catch our breath and rest up in preparation for the next push and the next and the next going on for what felt like forever.

Kistufell cabin

Our goal of the day was to reach the Kistufell cabin at the side of the Vatnajökull glacier and next to the top of the mountain. As the weather conditions became worse this also turned into our only option and we had to muster all our strengths and grit to keep up the mood and keep up the pace.

With only 5km left we started to feel optimistic and a faint hope to soon be inside and out of the weather gave us resolve in our steps as we kept pushing the bikes up the steep and windy mountain dodging the rocks back and forth. 5km is usually done in a heart beat, 5km is not a very long distance on a bike but what we did not take into consideration how ever obvious it may have been was that we now were traveling at a fraction of the speed we were used to, turning these last 5km ride into a several hours struggle and monumental team effort.

With less than a kilometer to go, one of our bags feel apart as a screw came louse from all the shaking and jumping, we looked for the bult in vain and soon realise that we needed to resolve the situation in a more creative way. Zip ties were used and this was a heaven sent more then once during our trip, always bring a pack of zip ties on your adventures, with this fixed, we were back on our way.

The light in the tunnel

As the cabin finally came into view on the side of the mountinane, we let out a cheer. We had made it! The sight of the hut we had dreamed about for hours was like a warm embrace after a gruelling day, meeting a dear friend for the first time in a long time, it was emotional and right about time. The relief of being out of the rain and wind was palpable, and we could feel our spirits lifting as we made our way inside.

Inside, we found water supply reserved for the visitor’s of the hut, beds with pillows, a gas stove for heating and cooking and we quickly set about drying our gear, eager to get out of our damp clothes as the wind was howling around the corners of the hut.

The cabin grew warmer and cozier with every passing moment and our gear gradually dried out. The rain and wind raged outside, but inside, there was peace and serenity. Our hard day was over and we could finally look forward to tomorrow’s challenge – getting down from the glacier. But for now, we basked in the comfort and warmth of the cabin, knowing that we had conquered yet another obstacle on our adventure.

Don’t miss the next adventure journal in the Iceland divide series!

Cheers! TheBikepack🤠🤠🚲🏞️🏜