Iceland – the land of Ice and Fire

Iceland – the land of Ice and Fire – and spectacular riding vacations!

Glaciers and fjords co-exist with over 200 volcanoes – many still active today. Steam jets from underground geothermals and fields of black lava are all part of Iceland's beautiful and unusual landscape. Thousands of sheep and herds of Icelandic horses are scattered throughout the green fields and mountainsides.

Iceland boasts about 80,000 horses, all different colors, which are descendants of those brought to the island by the Vikings in their longboats. Horses are not allowed to be imported into Iceland today and, in fact, if any of the native horses leave the island, they are not allowed to return – a very effective way of eliminating equine diseases.

Last July with help from Holly Nelson of Horses North (see listing in Riding Vacation Directory), I rode on a tour of the Snaefellsnes Peninsula, considered to be the most unique and picturesque area of Iceland.

My husband, Doug, and I, with two friends, Marvin and Joan Lott, flew into Reykjavik, the capitol of Iceland. Arriving early in the morning, we were greeted by a gray, misty day with intermittent drizzle. Not intimidated by the weather, however, we took a bus tour of the city, which has a population of just over 112,000, and then set out to explore the city's museums, government buildings and university. Most Icelanders speak English since it is mandatory in school, but the Icelandic language is virtually unchanged from that of the first settlers – the Vikings. We had a late dinner then walked to the square where the nightlife in various cafes on Saturday and Sunday starts at midnight and rocks until 5AM.

The next morning we drove to the recently completed Hotel Eldhestar on a horse farm outside the horticultural community of Hveragerdi, a town in a geothermal area in the southeastern part of the island. Here, the geothermal energy has been harnessed for the greenhouse cultivation of many kinds of vegetables, fruits and flowers.

The weather was still threatening, so for our afternoon ride we all donned 2-piece, orange rain suits, high rubber boots, hard hats and gloves before mounting our assigned horses. The temperatures ranged in the 60's and 70's during the day and 50's and 60's at night so turtlenecks, sweaters and jackets under the rain suits were very comfortable.

After some instruction about the Icelandic horses' gaits, particularly the tolt (a fast running walk) and how to ride them, we set off first at a walk and then, as we became accustomed to our mounts, at the faster tolt. Our ride took us along country lanes, through lowland meadows and beside a highway which, like many of Iceland's roads, has wide riding paths parallel to it.

For those wishing a little pampering after their ride, the hotel offered a good dinner, the soothing waters of a "hot pot" (hot tub) and the convenience of a cozy bar. After dinner we decided to drive out to the Geysir geothermal area where, at midnight – still very light because we were so far north - we saw bubbling hot springs, boiling mud pools and a geyser shoot up more than 50 feet. A little further east is Gullfoss or Golden Falls, a 105-foot double cascade that thunders into a deep gorge, and is Europe's most powerful waterfall.

The next morning Doug, Joan and Marv left to sightsee and golf while I joined my group of fellow riders - two Icelandics, four Swedes, one Dane, eight Germans and one Swiss for our drive to a community building on Snaefellsnes Peninsula where we unloaded our gear and had lunch. Since a flight to Iceland, considered part of Europe, is only 2 – 4 hours from the mainland of Western Europe, many Europeans vacation here.

Oddur, our guide and one of the owners of Eldhestar, drove us down to a field where we met our mounts for the tour – about 55 Icelandic horses ranging in color from white to black to chestnut and all shades in between.

We watched as Oddur, Hanna, his daughter, and Siggi, a friend, circled the herd on foot and drove them quietly into a corner. At first the horses galloped off, heads high, long thick manes and tails flying. But, eventually, they settled down, milling about in a corner of the field with only a string held from one person to the next containing them.

Oddur referred to his list then waded quietly into the herd, patting first one and then another. He came upon the "chosen" horse. He patted it talking softly, and put an arm over its neck. He gently put the headstall over the horse's head and slipped the bit into its mouth. After leading the horse to the edge of the makeshift corral, he would introduce the horse to the rider, "Ginny, this is Mosi," and hand over the reins with a few instructions and a brief description.

"He has a sensitive mouth, is 4-gaited, and may trot so you'll have to work at a smooth tolt." Mosi, my first mount of eleven different horses in 4 days, was a mousy gray gelding with a dark stripe down his back, and a dark mane and tail.

We rode down to a wide beach where we tolted for miles along the water's edge, walking only periodically. Sea birds screeched overhead, soaring in the breezes while the waves rolled high up onto the beach at times, dipping our horses' feet in the cold, north Atlantic water. We stopped to watch some seals sunning on nearby rocks, and a few of the curious ones swam in closer to stare at us, their sleek, shiny black heads bobbing on the surface between waves.

Then we were off - tolting, galloping, even racing down the beach, clattering over round rocks, splashing through small waves, the light glinting off the wet sand. It was great fun, a prelude to the next few days.

Dinner that night was delicious - trout, potatoes and salad, but the conversation at the table was all about our riding that afternoon.

"It was thrilling!"

"I just kept smiling the whole time we were riding."

The community house offered cold showers and a swim in a heated pool to soothe sore muscles. Then, since it was still light so late in the evening, we pulled heavy shades across the windows so it was easier to fall asleep.

The next morning Oddur drove us to a little fishing village near the end of the peninsula. The road ran between the mountains and the ocean, and we marveled at the many beautiful waterfalls from the melting ice of the glacier, Snaefellsjokull.

v The small fishing village, a summer home for many vacationers from Reykjavik who enjoy fishing and nature, sat high up on a point of the peninsula overlooking the ocean. The waves had carved out unusual formations – caves, inlets, holes and bridges – in the rocky cliffs below, and arctic terns, seagulls and other seabirds had nests filled with baby birds on the ledges. Noise from the thousands of birds was almost deafening.

We noticed villagers walking from their homes to the shops or just hiking along the cliffs all carrying a stick or branches held over their heads. We soon found out why as the birds circled overhead and dive-bombed any passersby to scare them away from their nests.

Driving back to the community house, we passed old volcanoes, some considered active although there have been no eruptions for 100 years or more. They were surrounded by craggy lava fields where, often, the sharp, rough edges of the black lava were softened by a layer of spongy green moss. The ride in the afternoon included the entire herd so we could change horses a couple of times and move them all to a different area. About twelve riders rode in front and eight behind to keep the loose horses all together. Those in front had to keep any of the loose horses from getting in front of them and those in back had to make sure they didn't push the herd too hard or there could be a stampede. We tolted across inlets and dunes, through huge, black rock outcroppings and finally out onto wide, sand flats at low tide.

Then we made a temporary corral again of string, unsaddled our horses, led them into the corral where we unbridled them and waited for Oddur to assign us our next mount. Before motorized vehicles, this was the way Icelanders traveled - with a small herd of extra horses so they could change mounts, rest those not being ridden, and keep moving.

All of the Icelandic horses I rode were well-trained, good-natured, and very sure-footed. It was easier to get a smooth tolt on some, but they all could do the ground-eating gait. Oddur told us that unruly, poor riding horses were slaughtered and only the better mares and stallions were bred to improve the breed.

We rode every day for several hours, only stopping to change horses and to have a sandwich break. Although it was cloudy with intermittent showers or drizzle much of the time, it didn't bother us because we wore the rain suits or kept them tied to our saddles. Only once did I get wet! Cutting across, rather than going around a coastal bay shortened our journey by several hours. But we had to cross before the tide came in. A wide channel filled up quicker than the rest of the sandy flats and, not realizing how deep the water was, we galloped into it. Within a few strides the horses were swimming and the water had gone down into our boots. The splashing of the horses and the light rain sprayed our faces and yet, everyone was still laughing and joking as the horses leaped onto the far bank and tolted on.

Oddur took us to a natural "hot pot" one morning - a hot spring cooled by a stream from melting ice. Wearing our swimsuits under our clothes and rain gear, we walked along a narrow, winding path through lava rock to the naturally heated "in-ground pool". We shed our clothes and slid up to our necks into the warm, murky water. Later, a quick rinse in the cold stream left us refreshed and ready for our next riding adventure.

Over the next couple of days we climbed up the side of a small crater to peer down into its depths; tasted the waters of a mineral spring touted to have special powers; spotted a pair of white eagles with a spread from wing tip to wing tip of six and a half feet soaring high above us; and, when the clouds finally lifted, saw the Snaefellsnes glacier glistening in the sun, a thick white cap covering the mountain tops.

Often we rode without seeing another person, just sheep and horses, but one time we encountered another group with a herd of loose horses, too. It was a bit challenging to keep the two herds separated. We met them at a large sheep pen in the shape of a huge cartwheel, that is used in the fall during the sheep round-up.

After leaving the beaches, we rode along centuries-old roads or paths built by Icelandic settlers; snaked through crests and peaks of lava, some piled high over our heads; crossed through clear, blue streams and one river; and followed curving, rocky trails through scrubby Icelandic birches. Since low meadows were often very wet, the early settlers built their roads higher up in the foothills of the mountains, using "guardrails" of lava rock.

When we arrived at a destination, the horses were turned out in a farmer's field for the night, and we were driven to our quarters for dinner, evening chats and sleeping. Our dinners ranged from lasagna to lamb stew – all delicious, and our topics of conversation ranged from politics to horses to culture and local ways of life – all very enlightening.

When I rejoined Doug, Joan and Marv, we filled the next couple of days with a variety of activities. We visited the site of Eric the Red's home where Leif Ericsson was born and a replica of their longhouse was built; explored Pingvellir National Park where in 930 AD early settlers formed the first national assembly in the natural amphitheater there; and gazed down into a large crack in the earth where Iceland is splitting at 2 centimeters a year – half to North America and half to Europe. We drove through miles of an area that looked liked a moonscape to get to Langjokull glacier for dog sledding and snowmobiling. We also played a couple of rounds of golf on the over fifty 9-hole and 18-hole golf courses spread out on the edge of the sea, between mountains or in the middle of lava fields.

On our last day we took a boat trip out to Lundey, a small rock island off Reykjavik, to see thousands of cute, little black and white puffins with large orange bills. Then we visited the Blue Lagoon, famed for its healing, mineral-rich blue waters with temperatures hovering around 104 degrees.

Whale watching, river rafting, fishing some of the finest wild salmon rivers in the world, swimming in geothermal-heated pools, and exploring lava caves are just some of the other activities you can enjoy. Woolens, crafts, and native foods – salmon, shark and skyr – are some of the more popular items, either to bring home or to enjoy in Iceland.

As we boarded the plane, our heads reeling with the legends and sagas of Viking warriors, trolls and pagan gods, we could hardly wait to see what our cameras had captured of Iceland's horses, natural phenomena and unusual landscapes. It is truly a Land of the Midnight Sun!

4799 Lower Mountain Road, New Hope, PA 18938
Tel: (215) 794-5878 • Fax: (215) 794-5878
E-mail: info@horseclassics.com
Web: www.horseclassics.com

Home | Publications | Vacation Directory | Travel Articles | Order Form

© 1997-2008 Horse Classics, Virginia Phelps Clemens. All rights reserved.
Created and maintained by AdSpeak.

Did You Know?

Horses have a strong "herd instinct" and enjoy being with other horses, even developing strong friendships with buddies.

Tap our knowledge base. Learn More.

[TibBits]