The horse’s name was Vorboðar, which means Bringer of Spring and he was not doing his job.
Naively, I’d expected spring in Iceland to look quite a lot like summer – sunshine, leaves, people in lighter clothes – and what I’d seen of it so far had been winter but without the fun stuff like the snow and the Northern Lights. Heavy cloud had sat just above the height of the Reykjavík skyline, the wind had howled for the last two days and it kept raining. I have absolutely decided I’m not going back to Iceland in spring. If you’re hoping for nice weather, summer is your best bet and if you want it cold and miserable, you might as well go in winter.
We were dressed for our horse riding adventure in bright orange rubbery rain gear over our own warm clothes. Wellies were an option but as I couldn’t see any 39s, I decided to take a chance on my own waterproof mountain boots. I was shoved onto Vorpatril (look, I make more of an effort with the Icelandic language than pretty much any other tourist but Vorboðar is a difficult name, especially when you’re concentrating on not falling off him. I knew it started with Vor- and Vorpatril comes to mind more easily than Vorkosigan) because I don’t have enough bounce or knee strength to mount even a small horse on my own, and then off we went.
I’ve been out with Hafnarfjörður horse company Íshestar four times in the last decade but this was my first trip with Eldhestar, all the way out at Hveragerði. I was accustomed to a gentle walk out to the lava field. Eldhestar shocked me a bit by taking us five minutes from the farm and announcing that we would cross a river. It’s ok, it’s a warm river. Well, it’s warm at its source at the spring in the mountains above the village but it’s cooled a bit by the time it gets here. Spoiler: I walked up to the source and it was ice-cold so I can well imagine what it’s like by the time it gets down here. The poor horses trudged into the cold river which was much deeper and faster-flowing than I’d expected – I’d been hoping my boots were waterproof but if they ended up in the river, they were going to get soaked and from my position on the horse, I couldn’t exactly see how far above the water my feet were without leaning so far out that I risked falling into the river myself.
We made it to the other side. I expect the horses are used to this. They must do short gentle beginner walks at least a few times a week and they’re famously strong and hardy. If I owned the place, though, I might look for a different route.
We walked nice and gently through the quiet outskirts of the town. The tourists among us gradually got used to the feeling of being on horseback and our guides and professionals wandered among us to make sure all was going ok.
Then we turned left, the second side of our wonky square route, heading into the fields. Now we were going to be tested because we were going to try to tölt. Icelandic horses have a unique gait. All horses walk, trot, canter and gallop but Icelandics can also tölt. It’s about the speed of a trot but much smoother. It’s easier and more comfortable for long journeys across rough terrain like lava fields and if you’re doing it properly you should be able to hold a full glass of beer and not spill any. On my previous trips, a good at tölting has been reserved for more experienced riders so this was a bit terrifying.
You’re supposed to press your lower legs into the horse to signal that you want to start tölting, sit back in the saddle and shorten the reigns so you have close control of the horse’s mouth. In reality, when the guide’s horse at the front of the line sets off, all the others copy and all you really have to do is hang on. When the guide slows to a walk, so will each horse behind.
Oh, it was terrifying! I have video footage of me just wailing and pleading until Vorpatril slowed down again, only it’s filmed from a GoPro chest harness so all you can see is the back of Vor’s head and not my horrified face. Why did I think I could ride a horse? I’m not a horse person! I’m a kayak person! Was this how I was going to die?
It didn’t help that it was raining violently. That video is unwatchable because there’s so much water on the lens that the video is just rippling. My glasses were so speckled that I had to look over the top of them, which meant half my vision was out of focus and half was just a grey haze. I couldn’t really move my feet in the stirrups but I thought they felt wet. I’d had enough. I was scared, going too fast, blind, wet and too hot in my impermeable rubber waterproofs. By now I was become acutely aware of how much I couldn’t move my feet, or my legs. In fact, my entire body was cramped and numb at the same time. This was far too long for beginners.
It began to dawn on me that my aching legs hurt a lot less when we were tölting than when we were walking. The Vikings were right, it is more comfortable over long distances. I would still have spilled every drop of beer but with practice and with the newfound willingness that came with relief in my legs, I was getting better at the tölt. I’ll still never make a rider but I was quite delighted when Vor pushed himself to second place, right behind our head guide who observed that I had good balance. I was enjoying it! I probably wasn’t going to die!
On the other hand, dismounting was unpleasant. Well, my knee caught on the saddle and I needed helping down but after however long locked in riding position, my legs had forgotten the walking position. I John Wayne’d my way back to the indoor school where we laid out our waterproofs on the seats to dry and wondered if I’d be able to even start the hike that formed the second part of the day.
My waterproof trousers seemed to have leaked but the top was ok except around the collar. I should have done up the popper and pulled it right around my neck but that sort of thing triggers my gag reflex and makes me panic so I wasn’t surprised to be damp around the top. On the other hand, my “waterproof ” mountain boots were actually sloshing. They weren’t just wet. They were full of water. We were sent off to the canteen to by split up – those going back to Reykjavík would have coffee and cakes before getting back on the bus and those of us hiking would go over to the hotel, the other half of the Eldhestar complex, for lunch.
And I’ll leave it there. Check back next time for part two, the hike to the hot river valley.