Cake And Stables

Burrowed into the too-small guesthouse bed, I dreamed I was back home in Oakland, listening to the cars growling around me as I made my morning commute. I woke up long enough to realize I was hearing different vehicles starting up in the parking lot and trundling away, one after the other. I jammed in an earplug and got another couple of hours.

The shower rooms were empty by the time I rolled out of bed. I washed off two days of grit and then went hunting for breakfast, which I found in the restaurant next to the guesthouse. Two entire meals disappeared into my stomach. On the way out I purchased some chips, a few candy bars, and a big chunk of chocolate cake wrapped in plastic, for a midday calorie boost and because WHY NOT! I can eat WHAT I WANT!!

I imagined my gut as it usually was back home: Constantly topped off with energy, concerned mostly with digesting what few extra nutrients I needed for a single day’s activity. A slice of cake drops in. Most of that cake is pure energy, easily burned as fuel, and mostly ignored by my own body. Other creatures burn it for me. The ecosystem in my gut fills with bacteria that enjoy it. Other bacteria, ones that I might prefer to thrive for the vitamins they produce, are lost in the crowd.

Then I imagined my gut on this trip through Iceland: An endless whirlpool, draining all the calories out and always wanting more. An identical slice of cake drops in. The energy disappears into the walls, into my bloodstream, and is sucked out of that into my liver and muscles. If there are sugar-loving bacteria around, they grow for a while, but always find their favorite resource has totally vanished during the journey through my digestion. Other bacteria have more room to do their work.

I wondered if I would go back to my calorie-rich ways after the trip. How long would it take me to forget what it actually feels like to be hungry, and substitute that feeling for mere boredom, or stress, or a less-than-full stomach, or social opportunity?

I couldn’t tell. I made a note to myself, to try and write a basic outline of my relationship with food when I got back to “regular life,” whenever and wherever that was.

The road continued down, but didn’t have any more terrifying drops. Eventually it drew in close to a river, and I spent a pleasant few hours following that in a light rain.

Then I had to stop and look at a super-cool preserved building!

Dig this turfy awesomeness!

As I approached the door I noticed the layer of corrugated aluminum integrated with the traditional roof. A mix of old and new.

I also got a close look at the lichen scattered along the exposed lumber. “How funny,” I thought. “When I toured through Hobbiton four years ago, I saw the same colors on the woodwork, but in that case they were applied with yogurt, wood chips, vinegar, and paint.

The interior was even darker and dirtier than I’d been expecting, mostly because this structure was never intended to be human-habitable:

Another modern touch: An actual glass window!

A couple in an RV was parked nearby, finishing up their lunch. I waited a few minutes while they cranked their machine to life and drove away, then I took a pee break behind one of the houses and chomped a candy bar. That plus an audiobook about materials science kept me pedaling for another hour or so. The road drifted gently down and I got a nice bit of speed going, then I scooted around a corner and saw a bridge ahead of me, crossing the river I’d been following the entire day. Just beyond the bridge was a turnout, then the road launched aggressively up a hill on the other side. “Okay, here’s what I’ll be doing for the rest of the afternoon,” I said.

I zoomed onto the bridge, skipped past the turnout, and then cranked furiously until I was out of breath, which got me about a tenth of the way up the hill. My speed dropped to almost nothing and I began another of those touring-cyclist pack-animal ascents, putting one foot in front of the other, staying just on the edge of balance. The air was great, the view was pleasant, and the audiobook was amusing.

Halfway up I took a long break, and ate the most delicious slice of chocolate cake I’ve had in all of Iceland:

This delicious thing right here, is why I’ll never be a top athlete, or achieve my dream of modeling underwear for a living*. I’m always caught between two forces: There’s the steady weight loss that comes with constant exercise – and how I like what it does to my body – and on the other hand there’s the way even ordinary food tastes absolutely amazing when your whole body is really hungry. It makes the pleasure of eating twice as hard to resist.

( *Not my actual dream. )

It took another half an hour of slow pedaling to reach the top. In that time I think about 20 cars passed the other way, most of them with someone in the passenger seat looking out … And all of them noticing me and making odd expressions.

Note to self: Make a gallery of recreations of the faces that people have pulled on me while passing on the road. Place a count under each one, to organize them by frequency. Separate the men versus the women with a hit count. I wonder if I could get my nephew Darren to act them out for me?

I don’t have real statistics, but think the breakdown would be something like this:

For men:

• Stone-faced neutral – 40% of the time.
• Heeey! Thumbs up! – 20% of the time.
• Big giant goofy grin – 15% of the time.
• “Oh my God, look at that madman!” – 10% of the time.
• Cool nod of mutual respect – 10% of the time.
• Extreme confusion – %5 of the time.

For women:

• “Oh my God, look at that madman!” – 35% of the time.
• Mild curiosity – 20% of the time.
• Intense curiosity – 15% of the time.
• Obvious concern for my safety – 15% of the time.
• Heeey! Thumbs up! – 10% of the time.
• Irritation – 5% of the time.

I bet my nephew could come up with some pretty accurate faces for these.

Ruminating on cars got me thinking about safety, and my impression of cycling in Iceland now that I’ve been here for a while. Overall it’s been a very positive experience, but there are some stretches of Icelandic road that have no shoulder – big chunks of Highway 1 for example – and though the traffic is almost never intense the cars can still go fast. Those parts can be scary.

Many of the people on the road are tourists who are into the spirit of adventure. They relate to what I’m doing, and give me a wide berth.  Even the truckers and the big bus drivers are respectful, slowing and giving me lots of room, or waiting for an opening in the opposite lane even if it means stacking up traffic behind them. I try to wave to every one of them in acknowledgement, even if I can’t see them waving back.  I use the rear-view mirror frequently, and when I see a line of cars coming that will probably stack, I pull aside and wait when I can.  This not only gives them the maximum room to pass, it informs them that I know it’s a tight squeeze and am doing my part to help. I don’t know for sure but I suspect it inspires them to slow down just a little more when they’re passing.

It’s been a slightly different situation at night.  I can hear and see people from a much greater distance, giving me more time to prepare.  Sometimes I go off the road and wait, in case they’re intoxicated or overtired.  Sometimes I even go behind some cover and shut my lamp off, so they are not even aware I exist.  Maintaining that privacy feels safer sometimes.

As I mulled this over I went over the top of the peak, and began an easy ride down towards my destination city of Egilsstaðir. I hadn’t bothered to reserve a room, since I was indifferent about having one and I knew there was a campground. A mile outside of town I found a bike lane separated from the road and used that. By the time I reached the first hotel it was fully dark. Did they have a room? Why yes! 20 minutes later my bike was inside, and 10 minutes after that I was taking a nice hot shower. I felt like living it up a bit, since the end of the trip was near.

A short walk led me to a restaurant, open late – by Iceland standards – and I got fish and chips and a burger and stuffed both of them into myself.

Food! It’s just irresistible!

Only a few minutes after digging myself into the blankets of the bed, I was asleep.