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22 Km - Heaven and Hell

Iceland divide- Part 8

By TheBikepack

March 6^th, 2026

Join us on Day 8 of our Icelandic epic, where the finish line feels tantalizingly close, yet the rugged landscape and unpredictable weather still stand in our way. We are The Bikepack, a spirited duo from Gothenburg driven by a passion for cycling that knows no bounds. Our goal? To prove that biking is so much more than a mode of transportation—it’s an invitation to explore, stay fit, and savor life’s greatest adventures.

Right now, we’re deep into the Iceland Divide—a ten-day, self-supported odyssey across dramatic wilderness, towering glaciers, and tempestuous storms that refuse to grant us an easy ride. Along the way, we’ve lugged every bit of gear and food on our bikes, covering an impressive 600 kilometers and conquering 7,000 meters of ascent. It’s grueling, it’s awe-inspiring, and it’s exactly the kind of challenge that feeds our soul and keeps us pedaling onward.

“22 kilometers, no problem!”

“Twenty-two kilometers—no problem,” we’d told ourselves. Oh, how wrong we were.

Morning light was just breaking through the cloud cover as we tiptoed into the big, empty kitchen for breakfast. The rest of the hut still slept, faint snores echoing from distant bunks. We moved quietly, already dressed in our carefully laid-out gear—a small, tactical victory before stepping outside into the drizzle.

Under brooding gray skies, we packed our bikes, filled our bottles, and bid farewell to the warm embrace of the hot spring. We couldn’t help but wonder why no one else was up early, hustling to avoid the worst of the storm. Surely they’d prefer a head start, right?

Moments later, we found ourselves hauling our loaded bikes up a narrow, twisting stone staircase, reassuring each other that this would be the hardest part of the day. Just a quick struggle, we told ourselves. Then it would get easier.

We couldn’t have been more mistaken.

Hauling bags on our backs

The stone staircase turned out to be just the opening act. The real antagonist of the day was a storm that came at us from every direction, pummeling us with rain and fierce winds while the terrain itself grew ever steeper. Words can’t capture the difficulty of lugging a fully loaded, 25-kilogram bike up mountain inclines in the middle of a raging storm—but we felt every agonizing step.

Our goal was 22 kilometers, with 20 of those spent climbing rugged trails under the worst conditions imaginable. We’d chosen this route, and now it was time to pay the price. At the steepest points, we worked together: unloading our bikes piece by piece, hauling bags on our backs, then returning to wrestle the bikes up the slippery slopes. It was full-body labor, draining us both physically and mentally.

Yet not a single complaint crossed our lips. We knew griping wouldn’t ease the climb or calm the storm, and our energy was too precious to waste. With each other’s support, we kept pushing forward, determined to conquer every meter, every gust of wind, and every doubt that dared to linger in our minds.

Iceland’s untamed beauty

More than two and a half hours into our struggle, we’d only just passed the halfway mark when a welcome sight appeared on the horizon: another staffed cabin. We dashed inside to escape the swirling wind and rain, grateful for a moment’s reprieve. In the warmth of the hut’s entrance hall, we dried off, ate a much-needed meal, and felt our resolve return.

Thankfully, the worst of the ascent was behind us. Only a few smaller hills stood in our way before a steep descent loomed. The terrain shifted beneath our tires at every turn—hard-packed earth giving way to mud and snow, all scattered with slick stones we dodged like ninjas. The wind, however, was relentless. At times, it threatened to topple us, forcing us to stand perfectly still, bracing against its force until we could move again.

Amid the turmoil, we caught fleeting glimpses of Iceland’s untamed beauty: steaming craters, breathtaking waterfalls, and vibrant mountains streaked with otherworldly colors. Though the storm robbed us of fully savoring these sights, we could still imagine their grandeur. It was a tantalizing reminder that in calmer times, this land would be nothing short of magical—and a promise that kept us moving forward.

Álftavatn

Descending proved just as challenging as the climb, with loose stones and shifting soil threatening to carry us along for the ride. But as the saying goes, if you can make it up, you can make it down—one way or another.

Eventually, we broke free of the mist-shrouded heights and found ourselves gazing upon a lush green valley, crowned by a regal hill that rose like a forgotten castle, reclaimed by the wild. Just beyond it lay our destination for the night, nestled before the tranquil waters of Álftavatn, welcoming us with a big sign on one of the walls saying "Bar". Relief and excitement welled up within us—another day on Iceland’s punishing roads and in its fierce weather nearly conquered. Despite the hardships, moments like this made it all worth it.

The good luck

At last, the valley opened up before us in a spread of vivid green, and we finally got to ride our bikes instead of wrestle them. A river crossing tested our balance and nerve, but we soon regained the main road, which carried us straight to the day’s haven—a set of two cabins, one large and one small. We were initially assigned to the smaller cabin, but luck was on our side, and we scored a private room in the larger one—a luxury that felt especially sweet after such a trial of a day.

Once settled, we joined a lively gathering in the common area, where the scent of food and the hum of chatter filled the air. It felt like a grand feast, each traveler bringing their own flavors and stories to the table. The best part? Meeting kindred spirits from all corners of the map, each with tales of how they’d ended up in this far-flung slice of Iceland. There’s nothing like shared adventure to bring strangers together, and by night’s end, it felt like we’d formed a small community of explorers, ready for whatever the next day would bring.

Catching ZzZzZz's

We started to tell our story of what we did and how we got to where we were. Many looked at us with a mix of fear and delight, thinking what we did was amazing but that they themselves might not venture into such an adventure.

That's the great thing about adventure: you can tailor it to what you want to do, to your own ability, and how you want it to be!

With the right preparations, you can do anything as long as you believe in yourself!

The day had taken its toll on us, so it was an early night. Tomorrow's route was of the longer variety and the bad weather was here to stay, but to our delight, we had almost completed the whole journey of climbing and it was only 100 km until we could pass our finishing banner at the sea!!!