Skeiðvatn and a cast sheep
Another day, another adventure in the Troll Peninsula. Today, I’m hiking up Svarfaðardalur to the lake Skeiðvatn. Nestled in the heart of the peninsula, a beautiful place, but according to local legends, it's also home to a monster.
I prepared a simple picnic breakfast: a couple of toasts, a few boiled eggs, and a batch of IKEA-inspired meatballs. A satisfyingly spherical breakfast, easy to eat with a fork. I also packed a container of súrmjölk, a traditional Icelandic dairy drink made from fermented milk. It has a slightly sour, tangy taste, and I have recently become addicted to this delicious and refreshing drink.
We drove north along the fjord, almost to Dalvík, and then west, into the Skíðadalur. A sparsely populated valley that cuts into the mountain end of the Tröll Peninsula. It was a long and winding road, but the scenery was spectacular. After a while, the asphalt road gave way to gravel, and finally, at the last occupied farm, the road stopped altogether. We left our car behind and set off on an overgrown path that led through muddy fields.
I found a grassy bank next to the stream and spread out my yellow rain jacket as a picnic blanket. The sun glinted on the water, and the roar of the water rushing over pebbles filled our ears. We ate in silence, enjoying the views around us. The Svarfaðardalur valley was a sight to behold, with high, steep mountains and many peaks between 1000 and 1400 metres high.
Fortified by our picnic, we resumed our trek. As we walked, we disturbed flocks of Canadian geese, who honked loudly at us in protest, their voices echoing across the valley. Sheep grazed everywhere around us, easily spooked by our presence and running away at the first sight of us—all but one.
One sheep was upside down. Yes, upside down. We googled it, of course. That's what people do these days. And we learned that it was a cast sheep. A cast sheep is a sheep that has flipped over and cannot get back to its feet. Without help, it will die a slow and painful death.
My husband approached the upside-down sheep with caution, lest he startle it. He needn't have worried. The poor sheep was stuck fast, like a beetle turned on its back, its feet wiggling futilely in the air.
My husband gently lifted the sheep onto its side. The sheep wobbled to its feet, shook itself off, and then scampered away, bleating happily.
We felt like heroes.
We stood there, watching as the sheep bounced back to its flock, its waterlogged wool wagging furiously up and down.
We soon left the green muddy fields, full of sheep and their droppings, behind as we hiked higher and higher, past the last inhabited farm. We followed the river that flowed down from the glacier on the towering peaks above us. Our goal was to reach a mountain shelf where the water slows down forming a shallow lake before resuming its run down to the valley we had just climbed from.
My legs feel gently heavy as I reach the lakeside, the ascent having eased my mind and body into a state of serene weariness. We sit on the boulder at the lake's edge and sip coffee. It is so quiet here, just us surrounded by the towering mountains and the calm water.
I check the map on my phone and see that the lake, and now we, are in the exact centre of the Tröll Peninsula. I feel a sense of completion, having arrived at the heart of this place that has enchanted us for so many years.
I close my eyes again and take a deep breath, savouring the moment. My husband, sitting beside me, is already planning a hike for the future, one in which we will traverse the entire Tröll Peninsula.
Today I am weary, and I long for the comfort of the cabin, but one day we might return and venture further, from one fjord to another. But for now, I am content to simply sit here and enjoy the moment. My husband's hand in mine, the sun on my face, and the beauty of the Tröll Peninsula all around me.
MY BOTANICAL NOTES
Tufted hair grass
Deschampsia cespitosa
The Icelandic name for tufted hair grass is Snarrótarpuntur. This grass is native to Iceland, and it is a common sight in the countryside. It is a tall grass, with long, narrow leaves that are green in the summer and turn brown in the fall. The flowers of the tufted hair grass are arranged in panicles at the tips of the stems. The panicles are silvery-white in colour, and they bloom in the summer. The grass is so tall that it reached up to my chest.
It provides food and habitat for a variety of wildlife, including birds, insects, and small mammals. It is also a valuable plant for grazing animals. And, of course, it is a beautiful plant that adds to the beauty of the Icelandic landscape. The tufted hair grass is just one example of the many amazing plants and animals that can be found in Iceland.
