» Happy Mile42

Nick Arrives

May 16, 2023 by TheCuriousCyclist Filed under Curious, Happy Tagged with brussels23

Time to rebuild Alice and repack everything…

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Time to rebuild Alice and repack everything…

Giving Nick some directions.

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Giving Nick some directions.

Tall people are not allowed to make tea.

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Tall people are not allowed to make tea.

Outside with a big empty box! More travel logistics…

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Outside with a big empty box! More travel logistics…

Hmmmm; that’s not gonna work.

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Hmmmm; that’s not gonna work.

Wrapped up and set behind the shipping counter. Handoff complete!

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Wrapped up and set behind the shipping counter. Handoff complete!

You mess with a bike, you get greasy hands. This is the life you choose.

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You mess with a bike, you get greasy hands. This is the life you choose.

Time to board a train with some very heavy bikes!

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Time to board a train with some very heavy bikes!

Welcome to Brussels! Nick wanted a photo next to the Smurfs.

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Welcome to Brussels! Nick wanted a photo next to the Smurfs.

Into the crowd we go, seeking snacks.

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Into the crowd we go, seeking snacks.

Tired but ready to explore.

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Tired but ready to explore.

Good ol’ St. Nick!

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Good ol’ St. Nick!

Why am I not surprised…

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Why am I not surprised…

A sweet treat!

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A sweet treat!

Not a bad view while taking brunch.

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Not a bad view while taking brunch.

What to eat, what to eat…

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What to eat, what to eat…

I can haz coffee?

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I can haz coffee?

I didn’t even know this church was here. Apparently it’s been here a very long time. It was originally part of a chunk of the city defense walls around Brussels.

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I didn’t even know this church was here. Apparently it’s been here a very long time. It was originally part of a chunk of the city defense walls around Brussels.

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Frozen in the act of bestowing wisdom no doubt.

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Frozen in the act of bestowing wisdom no doubt.

Contemplating.

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Contemplating.

A nice little square.

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A nice little square.

Too bad we couldn’t go inside and poke around.

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Too bad we couldn’t go inside and poke around.

A dramatic way to fill a fountain!

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A dramatic way to fill a fountain!

Reminds me of cats I know…

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Reminds me of cats I know…

Now that is serious ‘stache.

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Now that is serious ‘stache.

This looks like a reference to some legend about explorers being led by a local guide. It’s probably apocryphal. (I mean, the explorers probably just stabbed the guide.)

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This looks like a reference to some legend about explorers being led by a local guide. It’s probably apocryphal. (I mean, the explorers probably just stabbed the guide.)

Not sure who this is supposed to be, but their position over the door is welcoming…

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Not sure who this is supposed to be, but their position over the door is welcoming…

BLEEEAAAAARRRRRGGH

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BLEEEAAAAARRRRRGGH

CONTEMPLATE YOUR GOOSEY FATE.

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CONTEMPLATE YOUR GOOSEY FATE.

What better thing to immortalize in bronze than agony and dread?

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What better thing to immortalize in bronze than agony and dread?

My favorite thing about this is the rope they tied to keep it from spinning around.

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My favorite thing about this is the rope they tied to keep it from spinning around.

In case you didn’t notice Mary, there’s a spotlight to point her out.

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In case you didn’t notice Mary, there’s a spotlight to point her out.

When he saw the camera, he demanded we take his picture.

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When he saw the camera, he demanded we take his picture.

The proprietors.

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The proprietors.

Meanwhile, the locals are so bored with the square they’d rather just doom-scroll.

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Meanwhile, the locals are so bored with the square they’d rather just doom-scroll.

So many smokers in Europe. Even young people. I’m finding it hard to get used to.

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So many smokers in Europe. Even young people. I’m finding it hard to get used to.

Another anonymous tourist. The light was good, so I pressed the button.

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Another anonymous tourist. The light was good, so I pressed the button.

Every now and then, the Belgians feed a bird some waffle.

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Every now and then, the Belgians feed a bird some waffle.

People love to do video chats in the middle of the square, to show the folks back home where they are.

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People love to do video chats in the middle of the square, to show the folks back home where they are.

Hustlin’

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Hustlin’

I don’t know who they are, but the light was good.

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I don’t know who they are, but the light was good.

Belgian pride!

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Belgian pride!

Welcome to the land of snacks!

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Welcome to the land of snacks!

Sweets from Syria.

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Sweets from Syria.

No matter where you are in the world, you’ll find sticker tags.

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No matter where you are in the world, you’ll find sticker tags.

Bikes often get to go both ways down a street that’s one way only for cars. It’s helpful, but a bit harrowing.

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Bikes often get to go both ways down a street that’s one way only for cars. It’s helpful, but a bit harrowing.

You can’t do this! Unless you’re on a bike!

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You can’t do this! Unless you’re on a bike!

I’m not sure when this food truck last moved anywhere!

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I’m not sure when this food truck last moved anywhere!

Saving the cobbles for later.

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Saving the cobbles for later.

Mysterious narrow alleyway…

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Mysterious narrow alleyway…

Fries on wheels! Nice.

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Fries on wheels! Nice.

So much to see!

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So much to see!

Yes to the colors!

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Yes to the colors!

Giving the pigeons a feast.

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Giving the pigeons a feast.

Nick thought this was epic.

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Nick thought this was epic.

A plaintive though somewhat rambly note glued to a wall.

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A plaintive though somewhat rambly note glued to a wall.

Seems like there are even more bicycles here than two years ago.

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Seems like there are even more bicycles here than two years ago.

Locked up while we explore on foot.

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Locked up while we explore on foot.

I just love all these different vertical surfaces.

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I just love all these different vertical surfaces.

So many corners… A feast for the eyeballs.

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So many corners… A feast for the eyeballs.

Spot the hidden cameras!

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Spot the hidden cameras!

A super cool restaurant window.

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A super cool restaurant window.

Balancing act.

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Balancing act.

Nice to see that restaurant from a few years back is still thriving.

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Nice to see that restaurant from a few years back is still thriving.

They are legion…

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They are legion…

Little worlds.

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Little worlds.

I know I took a picture of this two years ago, but… LOOK AT IT!

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I know I took a picture of this two years ago, but… LOOK AT IT!

Here there be waffles.

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Here there be waffles.

On nom nomm nnooommm nommmmmm

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On nom nomm nnooommm nommmmmm

The Force guides his every waitering move.

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The Force guides his every waitering move.

I thought I’d had tiramisu before. I was WRONG.

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I thought I’d had tiramisu before. I was WRONG.

Got some free time… Let’s make some repairs!

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Got some free time… Let’s make some repairs!

I wonder how many times this happens…

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I wonder how many times this happens…

The bike looks odd without the seat.

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The bike looks odd without the seat.

Straightening some bent links with the help of the pliers.

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Straightening some bent links with the help of the pliers.

Installing the new seat mesh.

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Installing the new seat mesh.

Nice to know the Airtag is still there.

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Nice to know the Airtag is still there.

You mess with the bike, you get the grease.

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You mess with the bike, you get the grease.

If not for regular sweeping, this alley would be deep, crunchy pit of cigarette butts.

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If not for regular sweeping, this alley would be deep, crunchy pit of cigarette butts.

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Back In Denmark

September 25, 2021 by TheCuriousCyclist Filed under Curious, Happy Tagged with denmark

I woke up early, checked the time and listened to the announcements, then tried to nap a bit more. The captain’s voice blared out from the speaker on the wall inside my room, declaring that we all needed to be out and gathered in the hallways, and making my heart bounce off the top of my skull. No more sleep for me. In half an hour I was out sitting next to my bags in a hallway with only 5 hours of sleep.

I felt exhausted. I had to move my bags to be nearer a window and get cell signal, and from there I looked at maps and prices and found a hotel in a city 15 miles south of the ferry dock for a decent price. The weather report was good so I figured I would ride there even though I was tired, keeping the day from being a total waste in terms of ground covered.

When I moved my bags I accidentally left behind my Airpods case, and when I went back to look for it, it was gone. I double-checked all my bags and it was definitely missing. I threaded my way up the long hallway to the reception desk, passing a long stream of people exiting the boat, and asked an attendant if they’d seen a headphones case. I held up my other case to show her. She nodded, turned around, and pulled my case out of a drawer. True to that Danish sense of courtesy, someone had found the case and walked it all the way over to the lost items desk. Back home in Oakland, it would have just disappeared into a pocket.

Thank you, kind stranger who found these, wherever you are!

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Thank you, kind stranger who found these, wherever you are!

Getting the case back was a really nice ray of sunshine, and it uplifted my tired mood as I marched down two floors to the car deck.

You need a vehicle like this, in case you need to, like, run over a beer can in the road or something.

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You need a vehicle like this, in case you need to, like, run over a beer can in the road or something.

I had to stand around for a long time waiting for cars to move, since me and the other cyclist had been boxed in by three very long tour buses parked too close for a bike to squeeze between. I moved my bike several times to make space for the buses to turn, and the other cyclist followed my lead. Finally I got a gap in the outgoing traffic, and I was down the ramp and in Denmark.

Back out, from the belly of that steel beast!

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Back out, from the belly of that steel beast!

It was a pretty grand entrance, actually. The first thing I saw beyond the ship was a busy staging area full of moving vehicles, then a procession of metal cylinders in the distance, disappearing up past the ceiling of the cargo bay. When I emerged I saw that each cylinder was the trunk of a gigantic wind turbine, the blades gracefully rotating as flocks of birds sailed between them. Then the shadow of the boat ended and I felt a wash of warm sun all over my face and arms — the first I’d felt in weeks. I was so distracted I had to pull the bike over into a cargo stacking space and just hang out there, absorbing sunlight, for ten minutes. I also took the time to remove my sweater. Wouldn’t be needing that…

Sunshine! Enough to cast a shadow!! Wowee!!

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Sunshine! Enough to cast a shadow!! Wowee!!

Having a good day in the sun!

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Having a good day in the sun!

The wind gently guided me onto a side-road, and after only a few minutes I was well away from the ship and moving into town. I was starving so my first stop was a little cafe. The woman behind the counter had light blond hair and a deep brown tan. She reminded me of being a kid at the beach in California, running around in Junior Lifeguards class with all the other little tan blond kids. I settled down at a table outside in the sun, and ate a massive open-faced sandwich and most of a mocha.

Back on land that can grow vegetables! Eaten open-faced, of course.

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Back on land that can grow vegetables! Eaten open-faced, of course.

As I ate, I chatted with my Mom and gave my impressions of the country, and learned a bit of family history.

Wow, Denmark is as amazing as I remember it for biking…
Bike lanes in many places, extremely polite drivers, nice and flat, and SUNSHINE!!!!

A 70 year old man held the door for me at the cafe I visited, since I had bike bags in my hands. I just saw two women in their 80’s out for a walk together with sticks and a walker, and both waved and grinned at me.

Mom

That’s how I remember the people too! Friendly, slightly reserved, and very polite! I believe “gracious” is the best word.

Good word!

Going from extreme hills and 90mph winds to this is quite a shock. Camping in the Faroe Islands weather would have been a disaster, but there are campsites all over Denmark, more than anywhere else I’ve seen. I wonder if grandpa got an interest in camping from memories of Denmark? Or was he too young?

Mom

Your grandad was only five when they came here, so I doubt it.

Hmm, well perhaps even at the age of five he had some interest in camping already cultivated.

Mom

Part of his growing up was in San Francisco very near Golden Gate Park where he spent a lot of time. Later there were many trips to Muir Woods.

I did not know that!

Mom

Also, my uncle Happy, Denny’s father, was in the class above my mother at Berkeley High, so later they must have lived in Berkeley.

I assume Berkeley is where grandpa met grandma?

Mom

I think so. Mother had a friend Essie in her dance troupe who was his cousin, so it was through her that they met.

Did you visit Copenhagen the last time you were there? That was where your grandad was born.

It’s on my itinerary! I fly out from there.

I was now both nourished and totally wired, and it was time to ride. The Danish countryside did not disappoint, and I stopped constantly for photos.

Nice grassy field.

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Nice grassy field.

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Lovely forest bike trail.

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Lovely forest bike trail.

Bikes this way… And every other way!

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Bikes this way… And every other way!

Spiders all over the place today.

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Spiders all over the place today.

A lot of debris in this web, thanks to the wind.

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A lot of debris in this web, thanks to the wind.

Roadside grass and sunshine!

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Roadside grass and sunshine!

Looks even neater up close.

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Looks even neater up close.

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Good day to chomp some grass.

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Good day to chomp some grass.

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Did I mention mooooooo?

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Did I mention mooooooo?

Mooooooo!

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Mooooooo!

It was wonderful. A enchanting reminder of just how relaxing and healing a bike ride can be. The sun warmed me, the air was fresh, the wind was behind me, the hills were gentle, the cars were shockingly polite and no one was speeding, and there were nice separated bike paths and birds and farm animals all around.

I stopped near a field and saw a mound of apples, left out for horses and cattle to find, and picked a few out for myself.

A handy cache of apples!

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A handy cache of apples!

They’re on the ground, but they look so tasty…

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They’re on the ground, but they look so tasty…

Yep, I’ve got to have one. Maybe two or three…

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Yep, I’ve got to have one. Maybe two or three…

I sliced it with my pocket knife and used the backpack as a kitchen table, and stood there eating perfectly ripe apple by the side of a field on a quiet country road for half an hour.

Let’s snack!

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Let’s snack!

Slicing up apples on my bicycle countertop.

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Slicing up apples on my bicycle countertop.

I don’t care who you are, I could convert you to love bicycle touring in one week by getting you a long-wheelbase recumbent bicycle and putting you at the northwest end of Denmark, and giving you a phone and a sweater and telling you to cycle to the southeast corner. By the time you arrived you would be in such a state of nourished relaxed sun-tanned bliss that bicycle touring would forevermore be part of your life.

I also passed through a bunch of little towns. I felt very slightly disoriented by the transition between houses and countryside, and when I realized why I laughed to myself: I come from a place where farmland is in one region, and communities are usually pressed together in another. Mostly because of the presence of suburbs defined by the automobile, but also because parcels of farmland are generally bigger back home, with the houses on them set way back from the road.

There are parts of California where one can cruise from farmland to houses to farmland in the space of a few miles on a bike, but they aren’t typical. I was getting the impression that in Denmark, it’s like this by default, everywhere outside major cities.

Nifty houses on this quiet street.

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Nifty houses on this quiet street.

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This Solvang, and the Solvang back in California, are probably not related…

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This Solvang, and the Solvang back in California, are probably not related…

In America, this car would get mocked in the countryside … and admired in the city where the parking is difficult.

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In America, this car would get mocked in the countryside … and admired in the city where the parking is difficult.

Rock bugs!

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Rock bugs!

Sunny and quiet.

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Sunny and quiet.

Little bushes growing up out of poles.

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Little bushes growing up out of poles.

Portable garden!

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Portable garden!

Some sort of educational art project?

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Some sort of educational art project?

I learned later on that this is the pattern in the north of Denmark, but suburbs and sprawl appear as one goes south, making the experience more like California.

Also, you know how I could tell this was a low-crime area relative to Oakland? Two things: Unlocked bicycles are everywhere, and even the young women out jogging alone look up and smile hello as I ride by.

One woman was out walking her dog, and she saw me and made her dog sit down on the grass next to the sidewalk so I could pass more easily.

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Monument to … something??

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Monument to … something??

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This is a cute store logo. I am definitely In D Gang.

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This is a cute store logo. I am definitely In D Gang.

A welcome sight on any street corner!

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A welcome sight on any street corner!

I saw people out and about, but even as I entered an actual city, I consistently saw fewer people in public than I was expecting. Were the Danes still largely sequestered due to COVID restrictions, even a year and a half after the pandemic? Perhaps the vaccine roll-out was slower here than back home? Or was life just slower here?

By the time the 15 miles was done I was in fine spirits. The city had a quaint central area, and I took a bunch more photos, then checked into the hotel without trouble and re-fitted the bike for an evening out. From there I imported and sorted photos in a cafe while enjoying another tuna sandwich.

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Not very many people around on this autumn workday. Might as well park the bike where I can see it.

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Not very many people around on this autumn workday. Might as well park the bike where I can see it.

Enjoying ceramic lego dudeness.

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Enjoying ceramic lego dudeness.

I walk into a cafe in Denmark and the first thing I see on the wall: The Bay Bridge!

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I walk into a cafe in Denmark and the first thing I see on the wall: The Bay Bridge!

Big name sewing machine companies! PFAFF !!

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Big name sewing machine companies! PFAFF !!

Ready to be a tourist!

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Ready to be a tourist!

In spite of the lack of sleep on the ferry, I felt awake. On a whim I decided to see a movie. The local cinema was showing a recent American release, “Dune”, in English with Danish subtitles. I rolled the bike over and almost wondered if I should bother locking it to the rack or just leave it standing there like most of the others.

Everybody milling about with snacks, before the movie.

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Everybody milling about with snacks, before the movie.

This is one of those fancypants cinemas.

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This is one of those fancypants cinemas.

The movie itself was kind of disappointing, but I still had a good time. It was a very posh theater experience, and hanging out in close quarters with a bunch of Danish people felt oddly comfortable. They stood very near each other and made a low hum of conversation, sounding more like a classy dinner party without a band, instead of a bunch of strangers in public. It was interesting comparing it to the standoffish Icelanders I’d been dealing with. In fact, I couldn’t remember seeing that many people so close together anywhere in Iceland, except inside a few of the tourist-filled restaurants in the capital city, and the noise in those was appalling.

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Arrival At Faroe

September 16, 2021 by TheCuriousCyclist Filed under Curious, Happy, Introspection Tagged with faroe2

Last time I traveled this route, the islands appeared in a dramatic reveal, as clouds of mist parted.

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I was treated to the same performance this time.

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Most of the passengers crowded to the windows of the ship, to watch the ferry maneuver in the harbor.

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Just by the docks is a chunk of land with a preserved “old town”, with turf-roof houses, occupied mostly by government and tourism organizations. The passengers – me included – busily took photos of it as the ferry churned the water and rotated around to anchor at the terminal on the opposite side of the harbor.

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Unlike loading in Iceland, this time the bicyclists were last to roll off the ship. We had to wait for the trucks to unhook from the floor and slowly creep out ahead of us. The good news was, the ship had been loaded so all the vehicles bound for Denmark could just stay on the upper decks, and relatively few of us were disembarking here.

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The first thing I did was swing around the north side of the harbor and check out all those turf houses. I wasn’t surprised at all to see that they had been rebuilt with modern materials and then altered to support turf. At first I thought it was a bit anachronistic but, considering that houses looking very similar had stood on this same land for centuries and the form they were emulating originated from around here, was it really?

Locals know the old town area as “Reyn and Undir Ryggi”. The area at the end of the peninsula is “Tinganes”, a.k.a. Parliament Point. The reason there are so many government buildings here is that the area has been a seat of government for over a thousand years: Around the year 900 the Viking parliament first began meeting on this spot every summer.

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I eventually emerged from the twisty maze of old town and found the coffee shop I’d spent a few hours at the last time I was here. Their “swiss mocha” was just as great as I remembered, and I took a selfie to boast about it with the family back home.

Same coffee shop from two years ago!

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Same coffee shop from two years ago!

I lounged around there for a while catching up on work, then located the AirBnB I’d booked on the south side of town. I was a bit wired from the mocha so I got back on the bike and went creeping around town with the camera.

When it started getting dark I figured it was because of a change in latitude from the ferry ride, but I glanced at a map and reminded myself that the Faroes are about as far north as the southern coast of Iceland. The darkness was just the advancing seasons.

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Some time at night I got snacky, and had fun poking around a little corner store.

Watch your step or Mr Lee will have to do some kylling.

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Watch your step or Mr Lee will have to do some kylling.

It’s a soda with a sheep on it. It must be mine.

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It’s a soda with a sheep on it. It must be mine.

Between the weird subset of American culture on magazine racks and the nifty paintings in the local gallery, there was a lot of art to ponder.

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Some time in the depths of the evening, snacks in hand, Skyrim soundtrack back on the headphones, I blundered across the Gamli Kirkjugarður (old cemetery) right down by the harbor. I had no idea this was here, and it’s awesome.

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Fooling around with the camera resulted in a photo right out of a slasher movie:

Pretty sure this is the scariest picture of me I’ve ever taken.

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Pretty sure this is the scariest picture of me I’ve ever taken.

When I finally got back to the AirBnB, I sat down with the remains of my caffeine energy and tried to plan a bike tour that would show me some of the islands but also get me back to the harbor in time. The first thing I learned was that the amazing three-way underground tunnel that just opened is off limits to bicyclists. Drat!

Suuuper cool! But closed to bicyclists, dammit!

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Suuuper cool! But closed to bicyclists, dammit!

It makes sense, really. The thing goes 190 meters (620 feet) down under the ocean. The ventilation isn’t great, and can you imagine a cyclist huffing and puffing their way back up from there, breathing car exhaust the whole time?

It was quite hard narrowing down the route. I had to sit in the living room staring at tunnel and ferry maps and scrolling over elevation charts, weighing the annoyance of covering the same ground twice – which was inevitable on these islands – with the majesty of the views at the far corners of the country.

There was definitely a part of me saying “Why not just skip this? It’s like Iceland except less hospitable for biking, with more aggressive drivers and wetter weather. Aren’t you done with this Nordic stuff yet? Don’t you want to be some place where it’s warm, at least some of the time?” I could use the sunshine, yes. But because of the ferry, I had six days to see the islands. I couldn’t do any less, and I didn’t have time for more.

I already had an AirBnB booked for the next two days in a town called Hósvík. When I made that booking (back on the boat) I thought I would need a day to recover from the ride, but after staring at maps all evening I realized scales were different here relative to the country I just left. Hósvík is just 32km (20 miles) outside of Tórshavn, and probably less than 150m (500 feet) of climb. I had to guess because my mapping applications refused to give cycling directions, and the walking directions don’t go through tunnels that are passable to cyclists. I’ve also learned that the locals stare at you like a lunatic if you ask about biking anywhere. They’ll give you an estimate of time, but a good estimate of distance or altitude is beyond them.

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Second Iceland Departure

September 15, 2021 by TheCuriousCyclist Filed under Curious, Happy Tagged with iceland2

With plenty of time before the departure of the ferry, I returned to the same cafe and did a little writing. I saw this amusing truck parked outside:

I really hoped that this truck would have a man in underwear on the other side. Nope!

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I really hoped that this truck would have a man in underwear on the other side. Nope!

I also purchased some snacks from the local market, and found some strong glue that I could use to repair my busted over-ear headphones. They hold my fancy microphone when I’m teleconferencing, and I didn’t want to spend any more time bugging my co-workers by leaning on the mute key and shouting into the laptop.

Sounds delicious!

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Sounds delicious!

Last order of business: Repair these poor headphones.

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Last order of business: Repair these poor headphones.

In the afternoon it was time to cruise over to the staging area and line up. Having done this exactly once before, I was suddenly an expert. A few people strolled over to chat like they always do, and I answered their questions with a grin.

Checking in for the boarding line!

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Checking in for the boarding line!

Everyone here was excited to get going. Some of them kept their engines idling uselessly the whole time, just in case.

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Everyone here was excited to get going. Some of them kept their engines idling uselessly the whole time, just in case.

All lined up to board the ferry.

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All lined up to board the ferry.

Caution: Children crossing, and cats flying over mountains.

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Caution: Children crossing, and cats flying over mountains.

Some great hiking around here.

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Some great hiking around here.

A last, lingering view of these fine Icelandic hills.

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A last, lingering view of these fine Icelandic hills.

Eventually the road opened, and the boat started slurping up cars. I was among the first to go, so I could get my gear tied down in the far back of the hold.

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As I busied myself with ropes and bags, a long line of cars filled up the decks, followed in the end by some enormous trucks and buses that packed in close and were then chained to the floor by the loading crew.

On we go!

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On we go!

Still quite the conga line of cars waiting to park.

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Still quite the conga line of cars waiting to park.

This time around it was just me and two other cycle tourists. The few, the proud!

Tethering up the bike in the standard area.

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Tethering up the bike in the standard area.

The reduced tourism from the lingering pandemic had made bookings much easier on the ferry, so this time I had a room for myself instead of a communal bunk. I hauled my bags into it and flopped down for a nap.

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Over the last pass

September 13, 2021 by TheCuriousCyclist Filed under Curious, Happy Tagged with iceland2

Time for one last day of riding in Iceland. From the map and my memory of two years ago, I knew it would be a tough one.

The oversize basket on the edge of town is there to lull you into a feeling of comfort:

There’s that big basket from last time!

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There’s that big basket from last time!

I squiggled up, and up, and the wind increased with the altitude. Rainclouds pelted me and then scooted over the horizon, making space for the next batch of rainclouds in hour-long intervals.

Dang, I don’t have chains!

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Dang, I don’t have chains!

The road won’t turn you to stone, but the wind will certainly scare you.

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The road won’t turn you to stone, but the wind will certainly scare you.

Hours passed and I burned a lot of calories, but it still seemed amazing how high up I was when I paused to take a photo of the town I’d left.

Quite a view up here.

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Quite a view up here.

Just before the plateau, the wind got especially bad, as I knew it would. I made a little video of my defiance:

If only the wind was blowing the other way, it would shove me right to the top of this range in less than half an hour. Instead it shoved rain directly into my eyes, making the sunglasses mandatory.

Who’s smug that he made it all the way up here in this insane wind? This guy!

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Who’s smug that he made it all the way up here in this insane wind? This guy!

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying the day. The weather could get aggressive and that was fine: It was the weather’s last chance!

When I reached the plateau I glanced at the turnout on my left and saw the cement blocks from the art installation two years ago.

The art installation has lost a bunch of portable TVs.

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The art installation has lost a bunch of portable TVs.

All those blocks used to have television sets perched on them. Now they’re gone, but there’s still an expository sign planted there. Perhaps the artist printed a different sign, inviting a different interpretation… But I didn’t get close enough to read it.

Finally reached the plateau.

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Finally reached the plateau.

The wind relented somewhat at the plateau, and the rainclouds moved past so quickly they barely had time to drop rain. The ground was still soaked, of course.

Large patches of moss appeared on either side of me, some large enough that it was more accurate to call them fields of moss.

That looks like a good spot for a nap!

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That looks like a good spot for a nap!

Water goes on top of and inside this mossy carpet.

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Water goes on top of and inside this mossy carpet.

Beware the gooseprints: They indicate goose poops nearby.

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Beware the gooseprints: They indicate goose poops nearby.

Quite a cool spot for napping.

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Quite a cool spot for napping.

I had to park and go wandering in, of course.

I only laid down for about 15 minutes. It would have been great to stay there an hour…

It’s like a big green mattress!

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It’s like a big green mattress!

Aaaah, time for a nap.

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Aaaah, time for a nap.

Right around here, I set down my rain cap and it blew off the back of the bike. I didn’t realize it was gone until I’d pedaled half a mile away and felt my head getting wet. Drat!

Around me the clouds drifted low, and did strange things to the light.

So many colors in these clouds.

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So many colors in these clouds.

Snow under late summer clouds.

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Snow under late summer clouds.

Dramatic lighting up here!

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Dramatic lighting up here!

Mesmerizing sunset colors.

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Mesmerizing sunset colors.

The feeling of being on the surface of some other planet grew intense.

The high elevation brings the clouds closer.

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The high elevation brings the clouds closer.

Narrow band of horizon.

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Narrow band of horizon.

As if to complement this rugged weather, I got a random text message from my nephew Nick, asking about rugged ancestors:

“Didn’t you say that grandpa is part Mongolian at some point?”

I spent some time narrating an answer into my phone, and sent it in pieces.

“Well, there’s no recorded history for his family on his father’s side, before they left the Volga river settlements. No one knows whether they were there for 50 years, or 150 years. With marriage traditions what they were, that’s as much as seven generations. It looks like somewhere along the line, someone with epicanthal folds on the outside of their eyes must have gotten involved. There’s no documented evidence for it other than ‘your grandpa’s father was born of a group of people who collectively all lived in X place for somewhere around 100 years’, though. Which isn’t much to go on.”

“Even less information is available for your grandpa’s mother, who was part of a large family that moved down from Canada shortly before she was born.”

Garrett: “Does the ’51’ mean you’re five-foot-one at this point?” Ben: “Hah! No I was six-foot-two. ’51’ is the year I graduated.”

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Scan 17

Garrett: “Does the ’51’ mean you’re five-foot-one at this point?” Ben: “Hah! No I was six-foot-two. ’51’ is the year I graduated.”

Hazel, 1924

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Hazel, 1924

“On the other side, your grandma’s mother is from a ‘black Irish’ family, the ‘black’ referring to their dark hair.”

Sonya on the right.

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Sonya on the right.

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“And her father, Hans, was born in Denmark and comes from a large Danish family that crossed the Atlantic more-or-less together when he was a little kid.”

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“Companies like 23andme do their best to nail down certain genetic trends to certain regions by correlating documented evidence and family anecdote with sequenced genes, but when it comes to the last 200 years or so in Europe and Asia, things get vague quickly.”

“Besides, as I am fond of saying, ‘your genes are not special; the way you were raised is special.’ You and me and grandpa and grandma are all from families that place a high cultural value on education and graciousness as the route away from not-too-distant poverty. Which is why we all feel more comfortable around people who embrace the same, no matter what they look like or where they got their genes.”

That fun diversion, including looking up the various photos I used as illustration, carried me across the plateau and down the first run of dramatic, whooshing descents towards the town. When I came around the arm of the mountain and saw lights in the distance I paused for a snack and a photo.

Good ol’ Valoria, always ready to stop for a photo — and hold my snack while I’m taking it.

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Good ol’ Valoria, always ready to stop for a photo — and hold my snack while I’m taking it.

It was the same spot where I’d paused two years ago.

A night-time approach photo to match the one from two years ago.

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A night-time approach photo to match the one from two years ago.

One more whooshing descent, burning the brakes, and I arrived in Seydisfjordur. Only order of business: Check in and go to bed.

The hostel room was quite cozy. No one in the building was wearing a mask, even in the common lounge area, which I could only shrug at. The rules have always been loose at tourist-heavy spots.

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