Posts Tagged ‘adventure’
Another World
Two things: I’ve described the intense, stiff wind and mentioned our luck with the weather, which applies pretty much to the entirety of our visit to Iceland. The wind was strong enough when we climbed down out of that giant bus at the location of their floating dock, one of the zodiac boats full of tourists returning from the previous cruise had difficulty landing.
The driver needed to come around for a second attempt. In the moment, it didn’t give me pause about what “too much” wind for such outings might look like.
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In an instant, we were on board and speeding away toward the glacier “finger,” bouncing along on the swells the way zodiac boats do.
Suddenly, I realized it was no longer windy. We had been transported to another world that bore little resemblance to our previous vantage point.
I’m uncertain if I remember correctly, but I vaguely recall hearing the distance from the mouth of the lagoon to the edge of the glacier was about 5km. Our guide was quick to provide conversions, so the five could have been miles.
It didn’t matter. It seemed like we must have gone a hundred miles.
Without wind, the blazing sunlight warmed things considerably and rewarded us with sightings of many sunbathing seals. The overly cute aquatic mammals love the lagoon because there is a broad selection of fish to eat and no predators to worry about. Makes for a perfect recipe for photo-happy tourists.
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Our guide described the limitations of getting closer to the icebergs since they are larger beneath the surface and can roll over unexpectedly. I asked about his familiarity with the lagoon, and he pointed out it is never the same twice. Icebergs appear and disappear constantly.
While we were idling as the guide took photos of each group, a significant mass calved away and splashed into the water. It is such a bittersweet experience. I never imagined I would witness this massive power of nature firsthand, but it was such an exclamation of how dramatically this glacier –all glaciers– is/are melting.
When the wave from the calving reached the flow in the picture on the right above, the ice broke into many pieces, and the seal slid out of sight into the water like this happens all the time. It was mesmerizing to have this all occur right before our eyes.
Our guide kept moving our boat around to provide additional spectacular views. Suddenly, he stopped and bent over the side of the boat and popped up with a chunk of the glacier for us to see and hold.
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We learned about the coloring of ice and how the different bands (wavelengths) of the rainbow contained in sunlight are absorbed or reflected based on the amount of air in the ice. That chunk has had all the air compressed out of it.
The return leg of the trip back to the dock brought us back to bouncing on high waves and wrenched us out of that dream world. This was only our second day, and we had probably just experienced one of the most fantastic adventures of a lifetime.
Spending that time close to icebergs in that lagoon was truly out of this world for me.
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Glacier Lagoon
First, let me say this about coughing with congested lungs. When mucus in the airway triggers a cough that clears said airway, the feeling is truly gratifying. When the same thing happens, and coughing can’t improve the endless degree of congestion, it gets really demoralizing.
At least the antibiotics appear to be winning the battle over the infection.
When plans were being laid for our visit to Iceland, the four of us agreed on a level of adventure that suited us. We passed on snorkeling the seam of tectonic plates, exploring caves, whale watching on the high seas, or donning helmets and roping in to learn ice climbing skills.
We did decide to take a little tour around icebergs on a zodiac boat. I’m not much of a boat guy, but I figured it was an adventure I could handle. The reward was greater than I imagined.
Pulling into the parking area of the JÖKULSÁRLÓN GLACIER LAGOON, a finger of the Vatnajökull Glacier (if I have my facts straight) after a 2-hour drive on a mostly sunny day, we found the views immediately invigorating.
I had never stood this close to giant icebergs. Awe-inspiring, to say the least. We were greeted by a stiff wind that whizzed the cold from all the ice past our bodies, doubling our stiffness.
Just wandering along the shore and ogling the fascinating ice flows with the actual finger of the glacier miles away in the background would have been satisfying enough for me.
Little pieces of perfectly clear ice chunks bobbed along the shore, giving us less incentive to check out Diamond Beach, where the tide can deposit the sparkling beauties on the black sand. Those results aren’t guaranteed from day to day.
In a much-appreciated break from the wind, we retreated to our vehicle (holding the doors firmly) for a picnic lunch of sandwiches from our groceries. This became an exercise we mastered after repeated choices to eat out of the wind.
I can’t say enough about the industrious planning by Cyndie and Barb to bring an insulated bag for cold foods, additional bags for shopping, and the smarts to make wonderful selections in buying provisions. We ate superbly on our own.
As the hour arrived for our reservation on the zodiac boat adventure, we were issued fancy-looking suits that may or may not have bought us some minutes in the case of falling overboard. The floatation vest was added separately, on top.
We then boarded the massive bus-on-steroids for a short drive to the floating dock where they make quick transfers unloading previous passengers and immediately helping the next group aboard.
A quick survey by the guide reveals our group includes folks from Australia, the Netherlands, and Texas, in addition to us.
Our guide introduces himself as, “Ben” from France. The English language works relatively seamlessly for interactions but when folks are talking among themselves, I think we heard most languages of the developed world throughout our entire 10-day visit.
The adventure on the water was so spectacular, that it deserves a post all its own. Tomorrow…
I need more rest.
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Iceland Arrival
We booked our airline tickets more than a year in advance of our chosen dates. We flew to Detroit to catch a plane to Reykjavik. That doubled my challenge of getting through security checkpoints without major complications. Cyndie and the Wilkuses enjoy TSA precheck privileges, so they went off and left me to fend with the standard security.
Yes, I forgot things in my pockets and had to double back and make a second go of it. Rookie traveler.
We flew overnight with a plan to sleep on the plane and be ready and raring to go upon arrival. That only sort of worked. We were all a bit bleary-eyed as we navigated our way through the airport and to the car rental office.
The process wasn’t exactly smooth, but it ultimately played out flawlessly. The agent mentioned car doors getting wrecked, and I asked how often that happens.
“At least one per week,” was her reply.
That triggered our establishing a mantra of Doors/Diesel/Dings to remind us of important details about our vehicle. Mike did the lion’s share of the driving and did a great service of parking in a direction that kept the wind pushing our doors closed instead of ripping them open.
We packed all our gear in and headed for the first scheduled stop on the itinerary Cyndie created: a bakery for coffee and pastries. Next, we found a grocery store and loaded up on lunch fixings. From there, we headed east along the south coast for our first waterfall, Seljalandsfoss.
The only way I knew that name is by looking it up just now on a copy of our itinerary. I was helpless against the local language and didn’t even try to cope with pronouncing the collections of letters forming words. If I heard someone else speak, I could try to mimic the sounds I was hearing, but the results were rarely pretty.
The waterfall, however, was gorgeous.
This beauty offers the feature of being able to walk behind to see the falls from underneath. We put on our rain pants and jackets and joined the conga line of tourists snapping photos and getting doused.
What did I do? I took a photo looking straight up, of course.
It’s a little disorienting.
It was official. We had arrived for the first adventure of our visit to Iceland. We learned how to pay for parking at each attraction. We made use of our rain pants right away. The rest of that first day included another waterfall, a lighthouse, a black beach, and, ultimately, a modern hotel on the Ring Road in the village of Vik.
After dinner at the hotel, sleep came easy.
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Iceland Trip
We are home from our great adventure of 10 days exploring portions of Iceland with our great friends, Mike and Barb Wilkus. Iceland is a very special place on this planet, and we are grateful that we were able to experience it in surprisingly nice weather and successfully achieve everything we planned without a glitch.
I found more trees than I expected!
But there was plenty of landscape without.
We hiked to a lot of waterfalls.
We saw a fascinating amount of varying geology that provided dramatically more vivid evidence of the earth’s history than where we live in Wisconsin.
We soaked in a number of geothermally heated pools and hot tubs, of which there are few photos out of respect for other bathers’ privacy and desires to avoid getting our cameras wet. We were able to experience the awesome spectacle of a glacier in real life, even as it was melting away beneath our feet. And finally, the good weather provided multiple nights of viewing the Aurora Borealis displays, which was a primary objective for Cyndie.
That was a special bonus.
There are many more photos (taken by all 4 of us) and stories that I hope to present soon. The planning for this trip began almost two years ago and included consultations with a travel agent and advice from one of my Brainstorms internet community members with first-hand knowledge. (Many thanks, JH!)
I cannot take any credit for preparations as ALL of the work was done by the other three. They collaborated to arrange our flights, rent a vehicle, plot a route, book rooms in different hotels and an Airbnb on a farm, and even make reservations for meals at some restaurants. They even packed necessary bags to facilitate grocery shopping so we could make our own meals at times and picnic in the car for lunch on a few different days.
Despite my distaste for traveling, particularly by airplane, the fact that Barb and Mike are such wonderful friends and Iceland is a place of such spectacular things to see and experience made it easy for me to truly enjoy this adventure.
There were only a few instances where I was reminded of the famous photo of many teams of mountain climbers waiting in a queue on the approach to the summit of Mount Everest. It was a rare instance when we were able to experience uncluttered views of waterfalls, volcano craters, geysers, or beaches. Early morning proved to be the secret to being the first car in the parking areas.
We didn’t have to deal with much in the way of precipitation in our locations, but high winds were a common occurrence. It made cool days into bitterly cold ones, threatened to hyper-extend door hinges in a moment of inattention, and even challenged our abilities to remain standing a few times. Made it feel like we were on an adventure, it did.
That was a fabulous trip, and I am lucky to have been included. I plan to write more about our experiences in the days ahead.
Thanks for returning to read after so many repeated days of tree trunks. I hugged our mother tree on our walk with Asher yesterday morning.
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Prime Condition
This is departure day for our Iceland adventure. After we take care of walking and feeding animals this morning, we are off duty for a couple of weeks. When all the work of preparing the property for our extended absence was completed yesterday, I experienced a profound sense of appreciation for this place we are able to call home.
September is the best month of the fall season and the weather the last few days has been glorious. With the property freshly mowed and fence lines trimmed, it looks like a picture postcard around here.
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I am grateful for all the trees. In all the photos I’ve seen of Iceland lately, I don’t recall seeing trees. That will be part of the adventure for me. I am going to a place that is dramatically unlike the forests of my favorite places in the world.
While we are away on vacation, I’ve scheduled a celebration of the big trees I logged (get it?) a couple of weeks ago with a daily salute to each one. A forest with 200-year-old trees is practically the opposite of being in Iceland. For some reason, I like the contradiction of that.
Take care of yourselves while I’m gone. I’ll tell ya all about it when we get back.
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Final Details
We are at that point in the story where the main characters are working multiple lists simultaneously in preparation for their adventure vacation as tourists visiting Iceland. Test packing happened Monday night. All systems are a go.
Now I am in the second-guessing mode. I packed once, but now I’ve been into the bag a few times to get toiletries or grab something out of my carry-on bag. I also thought of a couple of things to add. Will I remember to put everything back? Will I remember where I packed everything? No. No, I won’t. Based on past experience, I have a terrible time recalling what nifty little pocket I’ve stashed certain things, thinking it’s such a clever location.
Meanwhile, I’m ticking away at the property work I want to finish before we go.
One valuable task that is less visible than others is the management of manure composting. It has been so wet this year, I’ve had a tough time keeping the piles active. As a result, I can’t move them out as often as I’d like to make room to create a new pile for the never-ending supply of fresh manure. Since we are going to be gone for almost two weeks, I wanted to provide ample space for our horse sitters to dump the manure they will be cleaning up every day.
Yesterday, I crossed that goal off my list. New space is achieved.
That was much more rewarding than my fruitless attempt to dig again in search of the buried power cable. That project will be waiting for me when we return.
I did successfully complete the trimming of grass beneath the back pasture fence line with enough gas left over to also clean up a portion of our trails. Then I mowed the front and backyard around the house.
This morning, I need to drive to Hudson for a windshield replacement before returning home to finish off the last of the grass cutting. If there is something unfinished after that, it will need to wait until we return stateside.
For the record, last night Cyndie was very busy finding new things to bring and rethinking what was going into her suitcase. It served to heighten my second-guessing about what I “test packed” the other night.
In my opinion, managing the manure composting area is a lot easier than packing for a trip to visit Iceland.
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Great Rides
I had one job to do this weekend: go for bike rides with Paul. The rest of the hours were agenda-free and I made the best of my time by relaxing to the maximum degree. While the twelve other guys were golfing, I had the place to myself, which rarely happens at the lake. The solitude was magnificent. I had a range of Olympic event options for sports spectating keeping me company indoors and gorgeous weather to lure me outside where I explored the surroundings alone.
Friday morning started with a mysterious sound coming from the woods in the pre-dawn hours that my waking self took a long time to diagnose. I deduced it was coming from somewhere very close so I forced my eyes open and spied through the trees to catch a glimpse of movement on the roof of the property next door. There was a crew of guys ripping off the old shingles. The rest of the day was filled with the repeating rat-tat-tat of new shingles getting nailed.
I walked the mini-labyrinth Cyndie and I created in the woods and soaked up sunshine on the deck. A short nap might have happened to the rhythmic sounds of a roofing crew hard at work.
When Paul returned in the mid-afternoon, it was time to ride. On Friday, we started on gravel which was a challenge on my Trek Domane with slick tires. Paul has a new gravel bike that handled it well. I felt like I was trying to hold my bike on the edge of a ski boat wake and more than once had to muscle the front wheel back in place to avoid calamity. When we popped out onto pavement at the end of the fire lane road, the smooth ride felt like a new world. We sailed along for more miles than we’d planned because the roads and surroundings were so nice.
On Saturday, the radar indicated we had limited time before a storm would be arriving so we skipped the gravel and chose a different route that still connected with the latter half of Friday’s ride to enjoy that great rolling ribbon of pavement a second time. Made it back before raindrops started to fall.
This weekend was the first time I’ve been on my bike since riding the Tour of Minnesota in June. I surprised myself with how strong I felt on our Friday jaunt. My muscles in the latter half of yesterday’s excursion let me know they hadn’t been used at that intensity on consecutive days since June.
The legs get a rest today. I’ll be driving home this morning to trade places with Cyndie as she comes up for a few days with a friend.
This year’s guys’ golf weekend has been a treat, made all the more special for me by two great bike rides in the woods with Paul. I’m lucky the group has included me in their long-running annual tradition.
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Tour Complete
I’m home again and living under a solid roof for which I have a whole new level of appreciation. All the joys of tenting in nature are a great treasure, for sure, but after day upon day of wet conditions, it tends to lose a little of its luster.
As soon as I stopped my car in our driveway, I started dragging gear out to dry.
For those of you who may have been following along and watching the weather at each of our destinations, it should come as no surprise that precipitation dominated our activities to varying degrees for 6 of the 7 days. The visible difference in flooding of the Cannon River from the first day to our last was shocking. As we crossed the river on a concrete bridge near our last rest stop of the trip, we paused to watch large trees racing downstream.
One particular beast showed up with the root ball sticking out of the water on the left and very large limbs rising out of the water on the right as it rapidly flowed broadside toward us on the bridge. I regret that I wasn’t quick enough to get a picture because it was an incredible sight. The thought crossed my mind that we probably shouldn’t have been standing there as it slammed into the legs supporting the bridge with an impact we could feel. In an instant, the current forced the root ball end downstream and spun the full-sized tree in line with the flow and the tree scratched its way under and continued in the flow.
We hung around at that rest stop extra long while the mechanics rescued me from leaking tires.
That’s my bike on the stand being expertly repaired. (Steve: I thought my bike was “tubeless-ready,” but Joseph discovered it was plain old tubeless, much to my surprise. They had two new tires available and fixed me up since the old ones had too many tiny holes [and one mosquito-bite-looking bump.])
As they were finishing, Luther noticed the highway officials were closing the road at the bridge behind us. What a year for us to be riding around rivers that were overflowing so dramatically.
Despite the wetness, this year’s trip still offered up the most precious reward of all: meeting new people and horsing around with old friends. There was an uncharacteristic number of people dropping out early, partly due to the constant threat of storms, but for other reasons too. One pulled out because of a death in the family. Some suffered the consequences of their two bike wheels not remaining in contact with the ground at all times.
I’m pleased this year to be one of those who made it all the way to the end. I’m hoping to have inspired a few new readers, including the twins, Maggie and Kathleen, Tom from Atlanta and Kim in Winnipeg. A special shout-out goes to a pair of kindred spirits who I immediately fell in love with. I met them one at a time and in different memorable ways: CJ and Amy, I hope we might discover a way for you to come experience Wintervale in person someday.
I’ve explained to Cyndie that I have invited practically the entire tour over to see our place. The next best thing will probably be for them to read about it here.
No sooner than I had finished spreading all my stuff out in the partial sunlight, more rain started to fall again. I hustled to get it all into the garage.
It really doesn’t need to be said, but… the grass needs some serious mowing. Unfortunately, I may need to wait another day before starting on that project.
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Hastings to Cannon Falls
Day 7 of riding the 50th Tour of Minnesota
First of all, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my daughter, Elysa!! How many June twenty-twos have I been away from you on this trip? I’m looking forward to seeing you soon!
The last day is always bittersweet. Vacation ends today. We ride back to Cannon Falls and our vehicles to drive off to our real lives with a wealth of new memories and hopefully added friends to our precious collection of Tour of Minnesota alumni.
Look at that. We finish by riding half the distance of the Cannon Valley Trail again. I’m okay with that. Not needing to think about the next turn allows my mind to be more meditative. It’s hard to say goodbye to so many friends who have shared the ups and downs of a weeklong adventure and it’s hard to switch to driving a car again but I am always VERY happy to be back in my bed and private bathroom again.
I suspect I might also be very happy to sleep in a house, sheltered from storms if the previous week played out like the forecasts predicted.
Tomorrow, I hope to be back to posting fresh content again and will be able to regale you with the details of what actually happened while I was off galavanting on my bike with 300 friends for a week.
I hope I make it safely all the way to the end. By the end of today, this year’s Tour of Minnesota is in the books.
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Stillwater to Hastings
Day 6 of riding the 50th Tour of Minnesota
Since we are basically riding “with the current” from Stillwater down to Hastings, it should be downhill the whole way, no? Not exactly.
The route deviates from the shoulder of the St. Croix River and cuts west where we will cross the Mississippi River on our way down to Hastings.
The itinerary shows we are arriving in Hastings for lunch. Really? Almost 60 miles to lunch? Might as well make it a century and ride another 40 before dinner.
Maybe this is just a reflection of how fit we will be by this point of the tour. I wonder if we have figured out a way to be waterproof on a bike in thunderstorms yet.
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Relative Something 