Iceland Day 4

Iceland Day Four

So, that was the day—a four-hour tour of a glacier. How do you tour a glacier? You walk on it, obviously. It was incredible. We went through an ice tunnel, did some ice climbing, and drank water straight from the melting glacier. There was a lot happening. In fact, there was even a guy digging the tunnel as we walked through it. I’m hoping it was just maintenance. If not, they might have been making a shortcut just for us—and I’m not complaining about that.

Next, we encountered a giant hole. No big deal. We’ll just walk around it, right? Nope, we walked straight toward it. They used a giant corkscrew to anchor us into the ice. I’m betting this guy can really open a bottle of wine with that tool. My fiancée went first and peered into the hole from about three feet away. Then it was my turn. She told me to get right up to the edge and look down. Sure thing—here I am, risking my life for photos once again. I guess she prefers the photos to me. I was practically horizontal, relying on a wine opener to keep me alive.

The ice climbing was by far the best part. I probably enjoyed it more than anyone else. Most people climbed over the wall once. I did it three times. The tour guide gave me one of my new favorite phrases on my way up: “Strong people always have the worst technique.” Not sure if I was more flattered or offended, but I was definitely both. I thought I was holding everyone up by climbing so many times, but we were actually given free time to roam the glacier. Turns out, no one was just sitting there watching me climb. Their loss. My climbing adventure ended the way most of my fun does—I almost hit myself in the face with the ice pick. Not exactly like all my other fun, but you’d be surprised.

They really did let us wander around, despite the random holes from the melting glacier. They gave us some solid advice, like, “Don’t walk too close to the holes.” Got it. When the opportunity to drink directly from the glacier came up, I was on my face almost instantly. Just like I would have been the whole time if I wasn’t wearing crampons. Those things help you walk on the ice. They snap over your shoes and cover your feet in spikes. I was wrist-deep in the mini river, showing off my waterproof gloves before the tour guide even had a chance to do his thing. I felt kind of bad, because it was honestly really cool. I didn’t know he had a whole routine planned.

When he finally mentioned drinking from the stream, he had a follow-up performance. He probably didn’t expect some nerd to face-plant in excitement over drinking water from the ground. He took the tour-provided ice pick and slammed it into the ice. They’d told us these were useless for glacier walking, but they looked awesome for photos. Then he positioned the bar across the stream, did a push-up, and at the bottom of the push-up, took a drink. After his in-tour entertainment, we headed back to the parking lot.

On the drive back, we saw horses along the road. If you’re lucky enough to spot any horses standing by the fence, you can pull over and pet them. I’m serious—just pull over and give them some love. Sometimes the grass really is greener on the other side of the fence. Did I get that right? The horses are after the really green grass, and if there’s some outside of their reach, they’ll lean over the fence so you can feed them by hand. They just need a little help getting their greens!

Now, Icelandic ponies are no joke when it comes to rules. And I’m not talking about some secret pony society with their own set of laws. No, the ponies are a little more free-spirited (at least as far as I know). You’re not allowed to import horses into Iceland. And if you take a horse out of the country, it can’t come back. But you can pet them—if you feed them. That’s the deal. They mean business. I tried to feed them some grass that wasn’t green enough, and I got shook off—no free petting here! The shake-off was pretty intimidating, too. These ponies don’t mess around. You gotta pay to play.

Apparently, horses move in different gaits. The usual three are walk, trot, canter, and gallop. But the Icelandic pony adds a tolt and a pace. Overachievers, right? (Yeah, I totally stole that joke from our tour guide.)