Hornstrandir
I was doing some research on Iceland. I wanted to go on the June solstice, and began to put a plan together. Somewhere in the depths of my looking, I stumbled across a picture entitled "Edge of World" and after that, I was forever changed. Although I didn't know it.
In the height of summer, my good friend Tom and I went North. Our destination was not one of convenience. We drove as far as one could drive from Reykjavik, hired a boat, and set out an adventure. We pulled into the fjord, the boat dropped a smaller boat into water, we left that smaller boat on the stone strand, and finally watched both boats leave us. Alone in wilderness. Our pick-up was scheduled for four days later. But between here and the point of extraction, were many miles.
Day 1: Into the wild
Day 2: This the way the world ends
Day 3: Sentinels in the fog
Day 4: Above the clouds
The end. For now...
Our adventure in Iceland continued, but the real adventure was over. For the rest of the journey we'd have roads and GPS and travelers' reviews. But in Hornstrandir, all we had was ourselves, a map, and a compass. Our simple instruments helped us through fog so thick, I wouldn't have recognized the house in which I grew up. They showed us the way over rock and ice and giant fjords. By the end of our adventure, the map was ripped and fraying from the damp, but it held together long enough for us to find our way.
When I saw those pictures of the cliffs at the edge of the world, I knew getting there wouldn't be easy. But when we returned, eating the most delicious fish dinner of my life, I realized something. Even after all the blisters and aching muscles, I realized I couldn't wait to do it again, and that I'd never felt so alive.
