In the June just passed a group of us from the cycling club were fortunate enough to travel to Iceland to tackle what the country had to offer on our mountain bikes. The prospect of riding somewhere total alien came as a rich and inviting thought.
We flew into Reykjavik and picked up our hire cars-three Dodges, each equipped with a 5.7L V8 engine- and let rip on the long open roads to our hired holiday house nestled in the outback.
We came to ride bikes however, and we spent the following four days doing just that. In four days we were able to sample a myriad of different trails, from the super tacky volcanic rock at Maradalur underneath the mountain of Hengill, to deep ash on top of the now infamous Eyjafjallajokul, which was followed by the best singletrack anybody on the trip had experienced.
We found that Iceland really was a world of it’s own, we spent the majority of the week trying to adjust to the constant daylight and completely failing-eating dinner at two in the morning just felt right. Iceland truly is the place of the uncommon, wild and perfect for mountain biking.
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