Iceland - the ultimate adventure destination
The Getting There: The Road to Iceland
Let me set the scene: Nico and I, two Swiss riders with a taste for adventure, set out on a journey to the land of fire and ice. The first part of the trip wasn’t Iceland yet—it was the prologue, the long ride that would take us to the starting line.
We began in the cool, pre-dawn stillness of Switzerland, the roads almost ours alone as the world was still waking up. There’s a special kind of magic in those early starts when the hum of the engine is the only sound accompanying the breaking day. Our bikes—trusty machines prepped and loaded—carried us out of the Alps and northward toward Germany.
The German highways welcomed us with their no-nonsense efficiency. Say what you will about autobahns, but if you want to chew up miles, they’re hard to beat. We rode with purpose, making a beeline toward the Danish border. By the time we pulled into Oeversee, it was late enough to feel the day’s effort in our bones and early enough to collapse into the hotel bed with thoughts of the adventure ahead.
The next morning brought a ritual that every off-road rider understands: new tires. In Oeversee, we swapped out our old rubber for something ready to tackle Iceland’s trails. Thick, knobby treads, all set to grip gravel, mud, and who-knows-what else Iceland had in store. The shop was a mix of the smell of fresh rubber and coffee—a pit stop that felt like a rite of passage.
From there, it was the Danish highways—a different flavor of travel entirely. Everything about Denmark felt lighter, calmer. As the day gave way to evening, we reached Hirtshals, the northern tip of Denmark, where the ferry to Iceland awaited. But before that, we had one more surprise—a detour we hadn’t planned but one we’ll never forget.
If you’ve never ridden on a beach, let me tell you: it’s a freedom like no other. In Denmark, where it’s legal in most places, it feels like stepping into a playground for grown-up dreamers. With the sun dipping low, casting warm gold across the sand, we took our bikes off the pavement and onto the beach. The sensation was surreal: the soft crunch of sand under the tires, the rhythmic whisper of waves just a few feet away. There were no lines to follow, no rules—just the horizon and us. We rode alongside the water, chasing the sun as it sank into the sea, and for a moment, the world fell away. It was a core memory unlocked, a snapshot of perfect freedom etched into our minds forever.
By the time we reached Hirtshals, it was dark, but the promise of Iceland was glowing bright in our thoughts. The ferry would carry us across the sea to the next chapter, but for now, we rested with the day’s adventures replaying in our heads—a beautiful prologue to the real journey yet to come.
Riding alongside the northern sea - a core memory unlocked ✨
The 48 Hour Ferry - Hirtshals to Seydisfjördur
Leaving the Danish shores behind, we embarked on the Smyril Line ferry, our trusty motorcycles secured below deck, and ourselves ready for the journey to Iceland. The ferry wasn’t just a mode of transportation; it was the bridge between the familiar and the extraordinary—a floating pause before diving headfirst into Iceland’s untamed elements.
We booked our passage through Cruise and Ferry Center, a fantastic agent with Swiss-level efficiency and friendliness. If you’ve ever wrestled with booking a ferry, you know it can be a headache. Not here. Cruise and Ferry made it simple: compare, book, done. Highly recommend them for anyone with a spirit for adventure and a soft spot for well-handled logistics.
The Smyril Line ferry itself felt more like a small, self-contained world than just a ship. For the next 48 hours, it was our home. We had a cozy cabin with an ocean view, perfect for watching the endless stretch of waves roll by. There’s something soothing about staring at the sea—its vastness seems to slow time itself. Between glimpses out the window and the activities onboard, those two days felt like a well-earned intermission.
Life on the ferry was anything but dull. With a gym, a cinema, and restaurants, it was easy to keep ourselves entertained—or, in our case, to let the excitement settle before the next leg of our journey. The food was solid, the company interesting (fellow travelers bound for Iceland always seem to carry stories of their own), and the mood relaxed. It felt like a calm before the storm—not the storm of fear or dread, but one of Iceland’s elements: its rain, its wind, its rugged, beautiful cold.
The ferry also made a stop at Tórshavn, on the Faroese Islands, a charming slice of Denmark’s wild cousin. We didn’t disembark, but catching sight of those green, rugged cliffs rising from the water was enough to plant a new pin on our mental maps of places to return to.
By the time the second day dawned, the horizon began to change. We caught our first sight of Iceland—a jagged line against the sky, growing sharper with every passing mile. It felt like stepping closer to a dream, the culmination of months of planning and thousands of kilometers under our tires. We stood on the deck as the ferry pulled closer, the wind whipping around us, and watched as Iceland came into focus: a land that promised adventure, challenge, and stories we couldn’t yet imagine.
The moment the ferry docked, we felt the buzz of anticipation. Ahead lay the open roads, gravel trails, and geothermal springs of Iceland—a playground for two motorcycles and a couple of souls ready to chase whatever came next.
The 48 hours of transit on the ocean is a unique experience. The calm before the storm.
Disembarking in Seydisfjördur: Day One on Iceland
Day One Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 88.8 km (55.2 miles) // Total Time Traveled: 9.5 hours (including stops and exploration)
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Day One Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 88.8 km (55.2 miles) // Total Time Traveled: 9.5 hours (including stops and exploration) 〰️
The ferry groaned and hissed as it docked in Seydisfjördur, its steel belly opening to spill out travelers into the heart of Iceland. Nico and I rolled our bikes onto the damp, unforgiving ground, greeted by sideways rain and the kind of biting cold that sneaks through every layer. The thermometer read 5°C, but it felt colder. We hadn’t even begun, and already Iceland was proving it wouldn’t go easy on us.
The first few miles were a test. Wind lashed against us as we climbed out of Seydisfjördur along a winding mountain road, shrouded in mist so thick it felt like riding through a dream—or a nightmare, depending on how soaked you were. But that was the thing about Iceland: it didn’t waste time showing you what it was made of. Rain, wind, mountains. It was raw, beautiful, and unapologetic.
We arrived in Egilsstadir about 30 minutes later, grateful for the warmth and shelter of a store. There, we stocked up on snacks, lunch, and dinner—a little comfort food for the journey ahead. The rain drummed against the windows as we loaded our bags and readied ourselves for the next leg. We had gravel roads ahead and a promise to keep: to embrace every challenge Iceland threw at us.
Back on the road, the rain let up, leaving only the hum of our bikes and the crunch of gravel under knobby tires. The landscape began to change, shifting into something otherworldly. The horizon stretched wide, barren, and untouched—like a moon landscape but somehow teeming with life you couldn’t see.
The highlight of the day came at Laugarvallalaug, a geothermal waterfall tucked away in Iceland’s wilderness. The gravel roads leading there weren’t easy, but the payoff was worth every jolt and bump. We parked the bikes, steam rising in the cool air as we approached. There it was: hot water cascading down rugged rock into a pool that beckoned you to sit, soak, and forget the world. It wasn’t just a sight—it was an experience. Standing there, it felt like Iceland’s way of saying, “I’m wild, but I’ll share my warmth if you’re willing to look for it.”
After soaking in the beauty of Laugarvallalaug, we mounted up again and turned north. The road grew rougher, the landscapes more alien. The gravel turned to dirt, and the terrain became a patchwork of volcanic rock and moss. Iceland doesn’t ease you in—it throws you headfirst into its heart.
By the time we reached Fjalladyrd Campground, the day’s fatigue was starting to settle in, but so was a sense of awe. We’d seen and done so much in a single day that it felt like a week. Setting up camp under a cold, clear sky, we couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer intensity of it all. Day one, and Iceland had already given us a full dose of its spirit.
As night fell, we wrapped ourselves in layers, warmed by the thought of more adventures ahead. Iceland wasn’t going to be easy, but that’s what made it worth it. And if every day was as wild and memorable as this one, we were in for the ride of a lifetime.
Day Two: Into the Heart of Iceland’s Wild South
Day Two Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 150 km (93 miles) (estimate based on GPX file // Total Time Traveled: 10 hours (factoring in rugged terrain, stops, and exploration)
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Day Two Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 150 km (93 miles) (estimate based on GPX file // Total Time Traveled: 10 hours (factoring in rugged terrain, stops, and exploration) 〰️
We woke up to the Icelandic chill, breaking camp at Fjalladyrd with stiff fingers and hearts eager for the adventure ahead. Day two was calling us southward, toward the surreal landscapes of Askja Glacier and beyond. Little did we know, this day would test not just our riding skills but also our sense of adventure—and reward us with memories to last a lifetime.
Our first stop was fuel. Now, filling up your gas tank might not sound like a highlight, but in Iceland, even the mundane can feel extraordinary. This wasn’t your typical service station. Imagine a single gas pump housed in what looked like a tiny wooden shed, standing defiantly against the elements. There wasn’t even a soul in sight—just the pump and the desolate landscape beyond it. Filling up here wasn’t just about refueling our bikes; it was about embracing Iceland’s unyielding charm.
Fueled up and ready, we pointed our wheels toward Askja Glacier, a destination as remote as it is otherworldly. The ride there was like traveling across the moon—or at least how we imagine the moon might be. Rough sand shifted under our tires, flanked by jagged peaks and volcanic rocks that looked like they’d been flung there by the hand of a vengeful god. Every kilometer felt like an accomplishment, every mile a victory over the elements.
As we approached Askja, we took a detour, lured by the promise of true isolation. A ranger had told us about a remote path—so remote, in fact, that he estimated only one vehicle per week dared to take it. Naturally, that made it irresistible. Turning onto the trail, it quickly became clear we were in for a challenge. The path was rough, rugged, and unforgiving, but also breathtakingly beautiful. The silence was profound, broken only by the crunch of gravel and the occasional sputter of our engines.
The trail led us to the Jungfjell Mountain Hut, a tiny refuge tucked into the mountains like a secret. By the time we reached it, the rain had returned, relentless and cold. The hut was a sight for sore eyes—weathered and unassuming, yet exactly what we needed. It wasn’t staffed, nor was it luxurious, but it was a roof over our heads and a place to escape the elements.
Inside, we found a simple space with a few bunks and a lot of character. Two other parties had also sought shelter there, and the camaraderie that comes from sharing a remote space with strangers added warmth to the cold night. Over shared stories and quiet moments, we found solace in the simplicity of it all. The rain drummed against the walls as the wind howled outside, but within those four walls, we were safe and content.
It was a night of reflection—on the rugged beauty of Iceland, the camaraderie of fellow adventurers, and the strange joy that comes from pushing yourself into the unknown. As we drifted off to sleep, the thought lingered: if day two could be this intense, what would tomorrow hold?
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Day Three: A Journey Through Changing Landscapes
Day Three Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 120 km (75 miles) (estimated based on the GPX file) // Total Time Traveled: 8 hours (including stops and exploration)
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Day Three Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 120 km (75 miles) (estimated based on the GPX file) // Total Time Traveled: 8 hours (including stops and exploration) 〰️
Waking up in the Jungfjell Mountain Hut felt like emerging from a cocoon. The rain had cleared overnight, leaving behind a world refreshed and new. Day three was waiting, and it promised to be different—less rugged, more inviting, yet no less magical.
As we made our way north, the scenery shifted as if Iceland itself wanted to show us another side of its personality. Gone were the jagged peaks and volcanic sands. In their place came lush, rolling hills, green pastures dotted with horses and sheep, and the kind of serenity that felt straight out of Middle-earth. It was like riding through the Shire—a gentler, friendlier Iceland. The roughness of the past two days gave way to a landscape that felt like a warm embrace.
The ride was easier, the roads more forgiving, which gave us a chance to truly take in the surroundings. The air was crisp and clean, carrying with it the faint scent of grass and earth. Horses grazed lazily in the fields, their manes catching the breeze, while sheep wandered freely, unbothered by the hum of our motorcycles. It felt like Iceland was letting us catch our breath before the next challenge.
Our first major stop of the day was Hverir, a geothermal wonderland. Imagine a place where the earth itself breathes—plumes of steam rising from the ground, bubbling mud pots, and the occasional hiss of gas escaping from the planet’s core. The landscape was alive, vibrant, and otherworldly, a stark reminder that beneath Iceland’s tranquil beauty lies a restless, fiery heart. Watching the gas eruptions felt like standing on the edge of creation, a reminder of the raw power shaping this island.
From Hverir, we continued alongside a serene lake (visible on the GPX route), its calm waters reflecting the sky above. The ride was peaceful, the kind that lets your mind wander and your soul rest. The contrast between the geothermal chaos of Hverir and the quiet serenity of the lake was striking, a perfect encapsulation of Iceland’s duality.
As the day wound down, we arrived at Kidagil Guesthouse, a cozy stopover nestled in a quiet valley. The guesthouse felt like a sanctuary, a place to recharge and prepare for the highlands that lay ahead. After parking the bikes, we settled into the comfort of a warm room, reflecting on the day’s journey.
We talked about the dramatic changes in scenery, the wildlife that seemed to welcome us, and the unending surprises Iceland kept throwing our way. Day three had shown us yet another face of this incredible island—a gentler, greener, yet still utterly unique side. As we drifted off to sleep, we couldn’t help but feel grateful. Every day here was a story, and we were only just getting started.
Day Four: Battling Iceland’s Elements in the Highlands
Day Four Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 90 km (56 miles) (estimated from GPX ) // Total Time Traveled: 10+ hours (factoring in river crossings and challenging terrain)
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Day Four Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 90 km (56 miles) (estimated from GPX ) // Total Time Traveled: 10+ hours (factoring in river crossings and challenging terrain) 〰️
Day four began like any other: leaving the warmth of Kidagil Guesthouse with the promise of adventure ahead. Little did we know, this day would test our limits more than any before it. Iceland wasn’t just going to show us its power—it was going to shove it in our faces and dare us to push through.
The plan was straightforward: head south through the highlands. But if there’s one thing we’d learned in Iceland, it’s that nothing here is straightforward. The highlands are a maze of trails, river crossings, and desolate stretches where nature reigns supreme. On the map, the route looked manageable. In reality, it was a gauntlet.
We soon encountered our first major obstacle: a river crossing. Standing on the banks, we stared at the fast-moving water, its depth impossible to gauge from where we stood. This wasn’t just a puddle or a stream—it was a full-blown river. It churned and roared, daring us to try our luck. After some deliberation (and a lot of second-guessing), we decided it wasn’t worth the risk. But turning back wasn’t an option either. There had to be another way.
We scouted and found another crossing point further upstream. It wasn’t any less intimidating—if anything, it was worse. The river stretched on for what felt like forever, its current fierce and unrelenting. But this time, we went for it. The crossing was an absolute beast—200 meters of icy water that tested our strength and determination. Pushing the bikes through felt like battling a monster, each step a fight against the current. But together, we made it across, adrenaline pumping and spirits high. Little did we know, this was just the warm-up.
Further south, we faced another river, this one even more ferocious. The water was deeper, the current stronger, and this time, Iceland was ready to fight back. We unloaded our Enduristan bags, knowing the bikes would be hard enough to manage without the extra weight. Pushing through, the river came alive, tugging at the wheels, the frame, and us. At one point, I found myself flat in the water, the current threatening to sweep both me and the bike away. It was chaos—cold, wet, and utterly unforgiving. But giving up wasn’t an option. Somehow, we wrestled our bikes to the other side, soaked to the bone but victorious.
By the time we reached Nýidalur Camping, the day’s ordeal was written all over us. Nýidalur is as remote as it gets—more outpost than campground, with just enough infrastructure to remind you you’re still on Earth. The bunks were available, but they came with a price tag that made us hesitate. So, with our tents and stakes, we chose to camp instead, letting the ruggedness of the day carry over into the night.
Setting up camp, the highland winds cut through the air, but we didn’t care. We were exhausted, proud, and more alive than ever. Day four had thrown everything at us—rivers, currents, cold—but we’d come out on the other side. Lying in our sleeping bags that night, the sound of the wind outside felt almost soothing. We’d battled Iceland and won, and we were ready for whatever came next.
Day Five: From the Highlands to the South – A Journey Through Fire and Ash
Day Five Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 110 km (68 miles) (estimated from GPX) // Total Time Traveled: 8 hours (factoring in stops and exploration along the volcanic trails)
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Day Five Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 110 km (68 miles) (estimated from GPX) // Total Time Traveled: 8 hours (factoring in stops and exploration along the volcanic trails) 〰️
The morning at Nýidalur Camping was crisp and calm, a stark contrast to the chaos of the previous day. After battling rivers and the unrelenting highlands, day five felt like a promise of smoother roads ahead. And for the most part, Iceland kept that promise—but not without a few surprises.
We left the remote camping area early, eager to make our way south toward civilization. The highland paths that had tested us before now seemed almost friendly. The terrain was still rugged, but it was manageable—firm trails, fewer obstacles, and just enough challenge to keep things interesting. The steady progress gave us time to take in our surroundings, which were as spectacular as ever.
As we rode, the landscape began to change once more. The black sands and volcanic trails of the highlands gave way to pockets of unexpected color. Small, serene lakes appeared in the middle of the mountains, their vibrant blue waters a striking contrast against the iron-red and ash-grey rocks. It was a painter’s dream come to life: stark, surreal, and utterly breathtaking.
The highlight of the day came as we approached Hekla, Iceland’s most active volcano. Rising dramatically from the surrounding plains, its slopes seemed to beckon us. Naturally, we couldn’t resist the temptation to get closer. The trails leading toward Hekla were loose and steep, a mix of volcanic ash and gravel that tested our bikes’ traction with every turn. Climbing to the top proved too ambitious—the tracks were just too soft, and the incline too unforgiving—but the effort wasn’t wasted.
The area around Hekla was like stepping onto another planet. Between Saudafell and Hekla, the terrain felt like a scene from a sci-fi movie: endless stretches of sand, jagged volcanic rocks, and the occasional splash of blue from the lakes tucked into the hills. We spent time exploring the area, marveling at the surreal beauty of the moon-like landscape. The contrast of colors—red, brown, grey, and blue—created a visual feast that made every stop along the way unforgettable.
As the day wore on, the trails gradually became smoother, the terrain less alien. Civilization was calling, and we rolled into the south with a mix of gratitude and longing for the wildness we’d left behind. Our destination for the night was a cozy guesthouse, a welcome reprieve from the elements after several days of camping and battling nature.
Day Six: Changing Plans and Heading Back North
Day Six Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 140 km (87 miles) (estimated from GPX) // Total Time Traveled: 9 hours (factoring in trail conditions and stops)
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Day Six Stats: Total Distance Traveled: 140 km (87 miles) (estimated from GPX) // Total Time Traveled: 9 hours (factoring in trail conditions and stops) 〰️
Plans in Iceland are more like suggestions. The weather has the final say, and on day six, it spoke loud and clear. A massive rainstorm with heavy wind gusts was rolling into the south, making it clear that sticking around wasn’t an option. Instead of exploring the southern trails as planned, we pivoted northward, this time taking the western route through the highlands. It turned out to be a brilliant decision—not just practical, but another chance to experience Iceland’s untamed landscapes in a different light.
The western highland trails were kinder than their eastern counterparts, though no less spectacular. Riding through the highlands felt like revisiting an old friend, but one with new stories to tell. The terrain was still dominated by those surreal moonscapes: black sands stretching to the horizon, jagged volcanic outcrops, and patches of moss clinging defiantly to the harsh environment. But these trails were smoother, more forgiving, allowing us to make steady progress without sacrificing the sense of adventure.
The weather, while better than in the south, was still classic Iceland. The air was biting cold, hovering around 4–5°C even in August, and the wind seemed determined to test our resolve. But we pressed on, knowing the promise that awaited us at the end of the day: the campground at Hveravellir, home to one of Iceland’s famous natural hot pots
Arriving at Hveravellir was a relief. The campground itself was as windswept as we’d been warned—tents flapped and strained against the relentless gusts. But all discomfort faded the moment we slipped into the hot pot, a warm geothermal pool fed by Iceland’s volcanic heart. It was pure bliss, the heat soaking into our tired muscles and washing away the cold. As we sat there, steam rising around us, the wind howling in the background, it was easy to forget the day’s challenges. Iceland has a way of balancing its harshness with moments of incredible reward, and this was one of those moments.
The evening at Hveravellir was simple yet perfect. The campground may have been cold and windy, but the hot pot provided warmth in every sense of the word. After days of rugged trails and constant movement, this pause felt earned. As night fell, the highland winds sang their familiar tune, but this time, we listened from the comfort of our sleeping bags, warm and content. Day six was proof that even when plans change, Iceland always delivers something extraordinary.
Day Seven: A Slow Ride to the West Fjords
Total Distance Traveled: 100 km (62 miles) (estimated from GPX) // Total Time Traveled: 6 hours (including stops and a relaxed pace)
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Total Distance Traveled: 100 km (62 miles) (estimated from GPX) // Total Time Traveled: 6 hours (including stops and a relaxed pace) 〰️
After the challenges of the highlands and the relentless elements of previous days, day seven felt like a gift: an easier trail, a gentler pace, and the promise of reaching the ocean. We left Hveravellir in the morning, the highland winds bidding us farewell, and headed north toward the Westfjords.
The ride began with the last remnants of the highlands. Compared to the rugged trails we’d faced earlier, these were mild—almost comforting. The path was smooth, the terrain predictable, and the kilometers passed with ease. It was a day for cruising, for letting the bikes hum along without complaint, and for soaking in the scenery as it gradually transformed.
Before long, the highlands gave way entirely, and the trails became proper roads. The ride grew even more comfortable, allowing us to simply enjoy the journey. Our goal wasn’t ambitious—we aimed to cover just enough ground to make steady progress toward the Westfjords without pushing ourselves too hard. Along the way, we made a quick stop at an Orkan gas station, a hidden gem for travelers in Iceland.
Bonus Tip: If you apply for an Orkan card (it’s free), you get unlimited filter coffee at every Orkan station. That hot, watery coffee was a lifesaver—both a caffeine boost and a small luxury on a day when comfort was the theme.
As the day wound down, we decided to take it a bit further than planned, pushing on to Sæberg Camping. The moment we arrived, we knew we’d made the right choice. Sæberg is a cozy little campground nestled right by the ocean. From our tent, we could see the waves rolling in, hear the soothing rhythm of the sea, and feel the salty breeze on our faces.
The campground was simple but perfectly designed for weary travelers. The communal kitchen and dining area was a welcome feature, giving us a chance to cook our dinner in warmth and comfort. And, as has become a theme on this trip, there was a hot pot waiting for us—a natural geothermal pool to sink into after a day on the road. Sitting in the steaming water, watching the ocean stretch into the horizon, it felt like the perfect way to cap off a relaxed day.
Day seven wasn’t about distance or challenge—it was about appreciating the quieter side of Iceland. The soothing ride, the warm coffee, the peaceful ocean views, and the hot pot made it a day of recovery and gratitude. Iceland doesn’t always need to be dramatic; sometimes, its beauty lies in the calm, and this day was proof of that.
Day Eight: A Rainy Detour to a Hidden Gem
Total Distance Traveled: 100 km (62 miles) (from GPX ) // Total Time Traveled: 4–5 hours (including stops and weather delays)
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Total Distance Traveled: 100 km (62 miles) (from GPX ) // Total Time Traveled: 4–5 hours (including stops and weather delays) 〰️
The morning of day eight started with ambition. The plan was to tackle a full day of riding, covering distance, and exploring new trails. But Iceland had other ideas. The skies opened, and rain poured down in a relentless torrent, turning even tarmac roads into slippery, treacherous paths. Gravel riding was out of the question; even staying upright on the bikes was a challenge. Ambition quickly gave way to pragmatism, and we shifted gears—literally and figuratively.
Despite the grim weather, luck was on our side. As we navigated the wet roads, we made an unplanned but unforgettable stop at Café Riis in Hólmavík. Now, finding good pizza in a remote Icelandic town might sound improbable, but Café Riis defied every expectation. Their pizza wasn’t just good—it was extraordinary. Thin, crispy crust, perfectly melted cheese, and fresh, flavorful toppings made it one of the best pizzas we’d ever had. Sitting there, warming up with this slice of perfection, we couldn’t help but marvel at the surprises Iceland kept throwing our way. If you’re ever near Hólmavík, this little café is an absolute blessing and worth a detour.
With our spirits (and stomachs) lifted, we continued northward through the relentless rain. Despite the weather, the scenery retained its stark beauty, with mist rolling over the hills and the occasional glimpse of the sea. When we finally arrived at Hveravík, it felt like we’d found a sanctuary. And just as we set up camp, the rain finally lifted, and the sun broke through the thick clouds. Golden light spilled across the landscape, casting everything in a warm glow. It was one of those moments that made every cold, wet mile worth it—a perfect slice of tranquility in Iceland’s ever-changing weather.
Hveravík had everything a weary traveler could dream of:
• A real kitchen where we could cook a warm meal and escape the rain.
• Free coffee, an absolute lifesaver after a cold, wet ride.
• A laundry area where we finally washed the mud and grime out of our clothes.
• A beautiful pool filled with natural hot water, offering a perfect escape from the chill.
But the campground wasn’t just about amenities. It had a sense of warmth and hospitality that’s hard to describe but impossible to forget. The owner’s care and attention to detail made the place feel like home, even though we’d only just arrived.
Adding to the magic of the day, the ocean nearby was teeming with life. As we explored the area, we spotted seals bobbing playfully in the water, their curious faces peeking above the waves. It was a small but profound moment, a reminder of Iceland’s unique blend of ruggedness and charm.
The pool at Hveravík was the icing on the cake. Surrounded by the sound of waves and the cool evening air, sinking into the hot water felt like shedding the weight of the day. With the sun setting in soft hues over the horizon, the storm outside was a distant memory. Inside that warm, soothing pool, we were content.
By the time we settled into our tent for the night, we felt at peace. Hveravík had turned a challenging day into one of pure magic. Between the incredible pizza, the seals, and the stunning sunset, this wasn’t just a place to stay—it was a moment we’d never forget.
Day Nine: A Turnaround and a Lucky Find in the Westfjords
Total Distance Traveled: 130 km (81 miles) (estimated based on GPX data ) // Total Time Traveled: 8 hours (including attempts, off-road trails, and travel time)
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Total Distance Traveled: 130 km (81 miles) (estimated based on GPX data ) // Total Time Traveled: 8 hours (including attempts, off-road trails, and travel time) 〰️
The ninth day of our Icelandic adventure started with excitement and high expectations. We had a thrilling off-road trail planned that would take us along road 643, heading north to a tiny town called Djupavic. From there, we aimed to tackle a steep hill climb, leading to what we hoped would be one of the most exhilarating off-road sections of our trip. But Iceland had other plans.
As we reached the hill, it became clear that the rain from the previous days had transformed the trail into a slippery challenge. The ground was slick, the incline unforgiving, and the combined weight of our machines—the Husqvarna Norden and the BMW GS—made the climb impossible. We gave it everything we had, trying to find traction and momentum, but eventually, we had to admit defeat. Turning our bikes around on the narrow, muddy trail was a challenge in itself, but we managed and made our way back down to road 643.
The Westfjords can be tricky like that. With few roads to choose from, a detour often means retracing your steps, and that’s exactly what we had to do. Backtracking wasn’t ideal, but we took it in stride, determined to find a new route to salvage the day. And that’s when we found the F66.
The F66 was an unexpected gem—a scenic off-road trail that cuts through the heart of the Westfjords, connecting the inland to the south coast. The trail was rugged but manageable, offering everything we’d hoped for: stunning landscapes, challenging terrain, and the kind of remote beauty that makes Iceland feel like a world apart. Riding along the F66 was pure joy, with vast open views punctuated by mountains, streams, and the occasional flock of sheep that seemed to materialize out of nowhere.
The trail eventually led us to our destination for the night: Bjarkarlundur Camp and Guesthouse. After a day of both frustration and triumph, arriving at Bjarkarlundur felt like finding an oasis. The guesthouse was simple but warm and welcoming, with the option to camp or stay in a cozy room. We opted for a warm bed—a well-earned luxury after the day’s efforts.
Dinner at Bjarkarlundur was hearty and satisfying, the kind of meal that tastes better after a day of off-road adventure. As we settled in for the night, we reflected on the twists and turns of the day. The setback at Djupavic could have ruined our plans, but Iceland has a way of offering something better when you least expect it. The F66 had been a lucky find, turning what could have been a disappointing day into another unforgettable chapter of our journey.
Day Ten: Transit to Reykjavik
Total Distance Traveled: 250 km (155 miles) (estimated based on route) // Total Time Traveled: ~5–6 hours (including stops).
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Total Distance Traveled: 250 km (155 miles) (estimated based on route) // Total Time Traveled: ~5–6 hours (including stops). 〰️
Day ten was all about the road. After days of adventure, off-road trails, and rugged landscapes, it was time for something different: a trip to Reykjavik. While our journey was focused on exploration and Iceland’s wilder side, we felt it wouldn’t be complete without at least a brief stop in the nation’s capital.
We left Bjarkarlundur Guesthouse in the morning, heading south toward Reykjavik. The route was scenic but straightforward, giving us time to relax and enjoy the ride without the usual challenges of river crossings or steep inclines. Along the way, there were a few notable places worth mentioning.
Notable Stops Along the Way:
1. Borgarnes:
• A charming town about halfway to Reykjavik. Borgarnes is known for its beautiful waterfront and peaceful vibe. It’s a great spot to stretch your legs, grab a coffee, or simply enjoy the views over the bay. If you’re passing through, it’s worth a quick stop.
2. Hallgrímskirkja:
• Once in Reykjavik, the first landmark you’ll want to visit is Hallgrímskirkja, the city’s iconic cathedral. Towering over the skyline, its unique architecture is both striking and impressive. A visit here is a must, and if you’re feeling adventurous, you can climb the tower for a panoramic view of the city.
Arriving in Reykjavik in the afternoon, we checked into an Airbnb, a cozy place that felt like a little slice of home. We spent the rest of the day exploring the city, which turned out to be charming but small. Honestly, you can see most of Reykjavik in just a couple of hours if cities aren’t your thing. Apart from Hallgrímskirkja, there are some lovely streets to wander and plenty of places to grab a meal or a coffee.
Reykjavik was a nice break from the ruggedness of Iceland’s wild side, but it didn’t hold our attention for long. For adventurers like us, it was more of a pit stop than a destination, a chance to recharge before diving back into the elements.
Day Eleven: A Taste of Tomatoes and the Thrill of the Trails
Total Distance Traveled: 180 km (112 miles) (estimated from GPX ) // Total Time Traveled: 9 hours (including the farm visit and off-road exploration)
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Total Distance Traveled: 180 km (112 miles) (estimated from GPX ) // Total Time Traveled: 9 hours (including the farm visit and off-road exploration) 〰️
Day eleven was the perfect balance of adventure and indulgence—a day where the rugged trails of Iceland met the unexpected delight of endless tomato soup.
We started the morning with off-road trails that carried us through some of Iceland’s iconic southbound terrain. The paths were a mix of gravel and dirt, the kind of riding that makes you feel alive, fully in tune with your bike. The crisp morning air was invigorating, and the scenery shifted from green grasslands to rocky stretches as we made our way toward our first destination: Friðheimar, Iceland’s famous tomato farm.
Arriving at Friðheimar was like stepping into a different world. This wasn’t just any farm—it was a sprawling greenhouse oasis where rows upon rows of vibrant tomato plants stretched toward the light. Inside, the air was warm and filled with the earthy scent of fresh produce. But the real highlight was the unlimited tomato soup buffet. Yes, you read that right. As much tomato soup as you could eat, served with freshly baked bread. Sitting in the heart of the greenhouse, surrounded by the very plants that produced the meal in front of us, was an experience we won’t soon forget. It was a far cry from the rugged trails but a welcome and delicious detour.
The afternoon brought us back to the trails, and Iceland once again proved why it’s a paradise for adventure riders. The south offers an incredible variety of terrain that keeps you guessing and your skills sharp. The trails were as diverse as ever, from technical river crossings that left our boots soaked to gnarly paths of thick brown dirt bordered by vibrant green grass. And just as we were getting comfortable, the landscape changed again—this time into sandy expanses that felt more like Morocco than Iceland. The contrast was stunning and exhilarating, a reminder of how much this country has to offer.
By the time the day wound down, we found ourselves back at a familiar place: Langalid Guesthouse. Remote and quiet, it was the perfect spot to end another unforgettable day. While there wasn’t much in the way of shopping or amenities nearby, the simplicity of the guesthouse was part of its charm. It offered exactly what we needed—a warm, comfortable place to rest after a full day of riding and exploring.
Day eleven was a celebration of contrasts. From the warm embrace of Friðheimar’s greenhouse to the wild, untamed trails of the south, it gave us the best of both worlds. As we settled in for the night, full of memories and maybe just a little too much tomato soup, we couldn’t wait to see what Iceland would throw at us next.
Day Twelve: Battling the Elements on F225 and F208
Total Distance Traveled: 100 km (62 miles) (estimated based on GPX and slow progress due to terrain) // Total Time Traveled: 10+ hours (including detours, river crossings, and challenging trails).
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Total Distance Traveled: 100 km (62 miles) (estimated based on GPX and slow progress due to terrain) // Total Time Traveled: 10+ hours (including detours, river crossings, and challenging trails). 〰️
Day twelve was a reminder that Iceland doesn’t give up its beauty easily. What started as an ambitious ride through the southeast’s hidden off-road paradise turned into one of the harshest days of the trip. The plan was to tackle F225 and connect to F208, two of Iceland’s legendary F-roads known for their remote, rugged terrain. What we didn’t anticipate was just how much the elements would push us to our limits.
The ride began with promise. F225, a less-traveled route through the southeast, offered incredible views and a sense of isolation that felt almost otherworldly. The trail was rough, with loose rocks, deep ruts, and the occasional river to ford, but it was worth it. The landscapes were raw and untouched, a perfect showcase of Iceland’s unyielding spirit. We even took a small detour on F225, and while it slowed our progress even more, the detour revealed some of the most stunning vistas of the trip.
As we connected to F208, the terrain only grew tougher. The rivers became wider and deeper, and the wind picked up with a ferocity that made every stretch of open ground feel like a battle. The temperatures were freezing, and the constant gusts made it impossible to stay dry. At one particularly challenging river crossing, my bike went down. It was the first time I’d laid it in the water, and I was soaking wet before I could get it upright again. The cold wind tore through me, and for a moment, I wondered if we’d pushed too far.
The rough conditions also meant limited options for the night. The first campground we aimed for was unreachable due to a massive river crossing. It was the most crowded crossing we’d seen on the trip, with vehicles backed up on both sides. A soaked Dacia Duster sat immobile in the middle of the river, its engine likely damaged by the water. That sealed the decision for us—we turned around and sought another place to stay.
We eventually arrived at Hólaskjól Campground, a remote and chilly spot nestled in the rugged landscape. While the campground offered huts, we opted to camp, only to find that the indoor cooking area was off-limits for non-hut guests. It was frustrating, but we made do, cooking outside in the freezing wind. To warm up, we took a short hike from the campground, and that’s when the day took a turn for the better.
The hike led us to a local waterfall, a quiet and stunning spot that felt like a secret reward for enduring the day’s challenges. As the sun dipped low, it painted the sky in hues of gold and pink, and a rainbow arched over the horizon. It was a moment of perfect serenity, a reminder that even on the hardest days, Iceland has a way of surprising you with its beauty.
Day twelve tested us in every way—physically, mentally, and emotionally. The rivers, the wind, the cold—it was brutal. But standing under that rainbow, with the sound of the waterfall in the distance, it all felt worth it. Iceland’s rewards don’t come easy, but they’re always unforgettable.
Day Thirteen: The Green Mountain and Iceland’s Greatest Detour
Total Distance Traveled: 200 km (124 miles) (estimated from GPX and detour) // Total Time Traveled: 10 hours (including detour and tarmac ride to Svinafell)
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Total Distance Traveled: 200 km (124 miles) (estimated from GPX and detour) // Total Time Traveled: 10 hours (including detour and tarmac ride to Svinafell) 〰️
Waking up on day thirteen, we were exhausted. The grueling days behind us had left us drained, and the ferry waiting in Seydisfjörður in two days was a tempting finish line. Part of us wanted to head straight back, let the journey wind down. But in true Icelandic fashion, an unexpected detour changed everything.
On a whim, we veered off our planned route, drawn by the allure of the F210 and the promise of adventure. This would lead us to Maelifell, the Green Mountain, and give us a day that turned out to be the most extraordinary of the entire trip.
The weather—a constant challenge throughout our journey—finally decided to show us some mercy. For the first time in days, the skies were completely clear. No rain, no wind, just a stunning expanse of blue stretching endlessly above us. Riding under the sun, the trails glimmering with promise, we felt alive in a way that words struggle to capture.
The F210, already a legendary trail in Iceland’s southeast, delivered on every level. The terrain was thrilling—gravel paths, rocky climbs, and stretches of flat dirt shimmering with rainwater and glacial runoff. The sunlight danced across the water, turning the landscape into a living canvas. Every turn brought a new vista, each more jaw-dropping than the last.
And then we saw it: Maelifell, the Green Mountain. Rising dramatically from the surrounding plains, its vivid green slopes seemed almost unreal against the rugged backdrop. It was like stepping into a dream, where every detail felt impossibly perfect. We parked the bikes and stood in awe, taking in the quiet majesty of this natural wonder. For all the challenges Iceland had thrown at us, this moment made it all worth it.
After soaking in the beauty of Maelifell, we continued on the F232, another stunning trail that carried us through the heart of Iceland’s wilderness. The contrast between the vibrant green of Maelifell and the stark, rocky paths of the F232 made the ride unforgettable. The terrain was challenging but manageable, and the perfect weather made it a joy to traverse.
The day eventually transitioned from rugged trails to tarmac as we made our way to Svinafell Campground, near Höfn. The shift from dirt to asphalt was bittersweet—a reminder that the journey was nearing its end. But Svinafell offered a peaceful place to rest, with the promise of one final stretch of Icelandic roads before reaching the ferry.
Day thirteen was everything we didn’t know we needed. It was a celebration of Iceland’s wild beauty, a gift of perfect weather, and a detour that redefined our adventure. As we settled in for the night, Maelifell fresh in our minds, we couldn’t stop smiling. Iceland had saved its best for last, and we were grateful for every moment.
Day Fourteen: Battling the Elements to Seydisfjörður
Total Distance Traveled: 395 km (245 miles) // Total Time Traveled: 10–11 hours (due to extreme weather and slow progress).
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Total Distance Traveled: 395 km (245 miles) // Total Time Traveled: 10–11 hours (due to extreme weather and slow progress). 〰️
The morning of day fourteen greeted us with a grim forecast: heavy rain, gale-force winds, and an all-day ride ahead. With 395 kilometers to cover between Svinafell Campground and Solbrekka Hostel in Mjóifjörður Fjord, we braced ourselves for one of the most challenging days of the trip.
Riding along the Ring Road, the weather quickly turned hostile. Rain poured relentlessly, soaking everything, while the wind roared like a freight train. Iceland’s notorious roadside wind speed signs warned of dangerously high gusts, but seeing the numbers was nothing compared to experiencing the raw power of the storm.
As we followed the coast, the wind grew even fiercer. At times, it felt as if the bikes were fighting a losing battle against the gusts. Riding straight required us to lean at angles of 20–30 degrees into the wind just to stay upright. Progress was painfully slow, sometimes as little as 30 km/h, and every gust felt like a physical shove, threatening to send us off the road.
At one particularly treacherous stretch, we followed an RV struggling to stay on the road. The wind pushed its tires dangerously close to the edge, and it was clear that even larger vehicles weren’t safe. For us on motorcycles, it was a battle of endurance, skill, and sheer determination.
The journey was a grueling mix of soaking rain, biting wind, and seemingly endless kilometers. But as we approached Mjóifjörður, the storm began to ease, and the rugged beauty of the fjord came into view. Nestled in the remote, mist-covered landscape, Solbrekka Hostel felt like a beacon of hope after such an arduous ride.
The hostel offered a much-needed refuge. With warm beds and a cozy atmosphere, it was the perfect place to recover from the apocalypse-like vibes of the day. Outside, the rain continued to fall, and the wind howled through the fjord, but inside, there was relief. The 395 kilometers we’d ridden felt like a victory, one we were grateful to have behind us.
Day fourteen was a stark reminder of Iceland’s untamed nature. The weather showed no mercy, and every kilometer tested our resolve. But in making it to Solbrekka, we proved to ourselves once again that the rewards of this journey were worth every struggle. As we drifted off to sleep, the thought of the ferry home brought both sadness and relief—a fitting end to an adventure that had given us everything.
Day Fifteen and Beyond: The Journey Home
Total Distance Traveled: 90 km (56 miles) (Solbrekka to Seydisfjörður, including off-road and mountain pass) // Total Ferry Duration: 48 hours (Seydisfjörður to Hirtshals, Denmark)
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Total Distance Traveled: 90 km (56 miles) (Solbrekka to Seydisfjörður, including off-road and mountain pass) // Total Ferry Duration: 48 hours (Seydisfjörður to Hirtshals, Denmark) 〰️
Drive from Hirtshals to Würzburg: 900 km (560 miles) // Drive from Würzburg to Switzerland: 500 km (310 miles)
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Drive from Hirtshals to Würzburg: 900 km (560 miles) // Drive from Würzburg to Switzerland: 500 km (310 miles) 〰️
The morning of day fifteen started with one last reminder of Iceland’s extremes. Overnight, the temperature had dropped so low that snow covered the mountain pass leading out of Mjóifjörður. As we left Solbrekka Guesthouse, the fjord lay quiet under a blanket of frost, and the trail ahead was a mix of untouched snow and rough off-road paths. It was both beautiful and humbling—a fitting final challenge to cap off our time in this incredible country.
The ride from Solbrekka to Egilsstaðir was slow-going. The first half of the route remained off-road, winding along the fjord and climbing over the snow-dusted pass. The contrast was striking—snow in the middle of summer, a stark reminder of Iceland’s unpredictable nature. Despite the chill and the wet conditions, it was hard not to appreciate the rugged beauty one last time.
Once we reached Egilsstaðir, it was time to prepare for the long journey home. We stocked up on snacks, water, and supplies for the 48-hour ferry ride back to Denmark. With provisions secured, we rolled into Seydisfjörður, where the rain welcomed us back with its usual intensity. Waiting in the motorcycle queue under a pouring sky, soaked to the bone, we couldn’t wait to board the ferry. It wasn’t just the rain or the cold—it was the culmination of two weeks of pushing ourselves to the limit. The ferry’s warmth and comfort felt like a well-earned reward.
The way back Home
The Smyril Line ferry offered a welcome chance to relax and reflect. For 48 hours, we let the warmth of our cabin ease the aches of the road, indulged in hot meals, and shared stories of our journey. Iceland had been as harsh as it was beautiful, and now, in the relative calm of the ferry, we could finally appreciate the scope of what we’d experienced. The changing sea views were mesmerizing, but it was the mental shift—knowing we were heading home—that brought a bittersweet feeling.
We arrived in Hirtshals, Denmark, at 1 p.m., rested and ready for the long ride back. But even with refreshed spirits, the sheer distance between Hirtshals and Switzerland proved too much for one stretch. After riding nearly 900 km (560 miles), we reached Würzburg, Germany, at 1 a.m. Exhausted but determined, we grabbed a quick 5–6 hours of sleep before hitting the road again. The final 500 km (310 miles) to Switzerland was a blur, filled with thoughts of home and the memories we’d made.
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Reflections on Iceland: Lessons learned from the Land of Fire and Ice
Iceland is more than a destination—it’s a test of resilience, a showcase of nature’s raw power, and a reward for those willing to embrace its challenges. This journey taught us as much about ourselves as it did about the incredible landscapes we traveled through. The island’s diversity, from its harsh volcanic terrain to its serene green pastures, pushed us beyond our limits, showing us what we were truly capable of. Every river crossed, every storm endured, every cold night spent in a tent became a story of perseverance and growth.
Iceland is not a place that gives anything easily, but that’s precisely what makes it so unforgettable. Its harshness forces you to adapt, to learn, and to appreciate the small victories—whether it’s a glimpse of the sun after days of rain or the warmth of a hot pot after hours of battling the wind. You leave Iceland with a deep respect for nature, a profound sense of accomplishment, and memories that feel more vivid than anything else you’ve experienced.
Tips for Future Adventurers
If you’re planning your own Icelandic adventure, preparation is key. This isn’t a trip for the unprepared or the faint of heart. Here are some essential tips to make the most of your journey:
1. Gear Up Properly
• For Yourself:
Invest in high-quality, waterproof gear. We used the Omberg rainproof suit from Held Biker Fashion, and it was a lifesaver. Staying dry is not optional—it’s essential for safety and comfort. Layer up with warm, moisture-wicking clothes, and always pack more than you think you’ll need.
• For Your Bike:
Equip your bike with the best off-road tires you can find. Iceland’s trails are often wet, muddy, and unforgiving. Bring tools for basic repairs, a tire compressor for inflating and deflating tires based on terrain, and spares for parts prone to wear and tear. Make sure your bike is well-maintained and ready for long, challenging days.
2. Use the Right Tools and Resources
• Apps:
Download the Safe Travel Iceland app (available on iPhone). It provides live updates on the status of F-roads and weather conditions. Take this information seriously—it can be the difference between a successful journey and a dangerous situation.
• Rangers:
Speak with rangers at national parks. Their recommendations about river crossings and trail conditions are accurate and essential. They don’t underestimate motorcyclists—they’re there to ensure your safety. If a ranger advises against a river crossing, listen.
3. Respect Nature and Local Guidelines
Iceland’s beauty comes with responsibility. Follow all camping regulations, leave no waste behind, and respect the environment. Be mindful of wildlife and other travelers, and remember that you’re a guest in one of the most pristine natural environments in the world. Politeness and adherence to rules go a long way in preserving Iceland’s wilderness for future adventurers.
4. Plan for the Unexpected
Iceland’s weather is unpredictable, and its landscapes demand flexibility. Build extra time into your itinerary for detours, delays, or simply soaking in the beauty of a place that captures your heart. Prepare mentally and physically for challenges—you’ll grow through every one of them.
Iceland is a teacher, a muse, and a challenger. It pushes you to your limits, but it also rewards you in ways that few places can. The breathtaking contrasts—from fiery volcanic landscapes to icy glacial rivers, from unrelenting storms to moments of perfect peace—make it a place unlike any other. If you embrace the adventure with the right mindset and preparation, Iceland will leave you with stories, memories, and a part of your heart forever left behind on its rugged trails.
THE GEAR WE USED
🧳 Luggage: Enduristan Monsoon Evo Large / Hurricane 15 Backpack / Pannier Topper Large
🧥 Clothes: Held Biker Fashion (Omberg Suit, Waterproof gloves, thermal underwear, insulation jacket)
🛞 Tires: Mitas Enduro Trail XT+ Dakar
🎧 Intercom System: Cardo Packtalk Edge (15% off with code FRANKEE15)
