As another school year was coming to an end, my partner Martha and I wondered if we would travel at all this summer. We’re both teachers with a passion for travel, yet a looming strike had us analyzing our finances closely. A week into July and Martha was constantly checking WestJet, our airline of choice, for flights. A couple of days later, she found cheap flights to Iceland, a place high on our list to visit. We bought the flights and began our preparations. Being that we were trying not to spend too much money, and Iceland is a very expensive country to visit, we decided to travel in my, James’s, favourite way: by bicycle.
I’ll spare you the long-winded story, but in 2020 I discovered travel by bicycle and it’s been a love affair ever since. Triathlon brought me to bicycles in 2009 and my love for them has blossomed over the last 16 years, bringing me to seeing the world while living atop one. Martha always had a dream to ride a bike through France and in the summer of 2023 we set off for 6 weeks through France, Switzerland, and Italy to do just that. That was my 3rd bikepacking trip and Martha’s first. We loved it and knew more would be in our future.
With our trip to Iceland a month away, we began planning. What to bring, where to go, what is the weather like, how easy is it to get food and supplies, how do we store our boxes, do we bus, how do we get to where we want to from the airport. I spend a lot of my spare time researching all the gear for bikepacking, imagining the perfect setup and how I would pack all my things—that part we’ve got figured out. The other logistics are always a bit more nuanced and require research into the specific place. Weeks tumbled on by and before we knew it, the day had come.
We boarded a red-eye flight on August 11th from our home city of Calgary, AB. After the hottest flight I’ve ever been on and barely any sleep, we arrived in Keflavík, a town 50km from the capital of Reykjavík. We fly with the cardboard bike boxes from bike shops with all our bags stuffed in them. Typically we would leave the boxes at the airport and then just ask a bike shop in the airport city after our trip for new ones, but in Iceland this isn’t possible. Bike shops just don’t have the boxes available. Also, Iceland is a tourist country, so people living there try to make a living from tourists.
Enter Sheep Car Rental, biggest shout out to them! They are a company that will pick you up from the airport, take you to their warehouse to build up your bike, store your box for the duration of your trip, and drive you where you want to start. They also have camping gear you can rent and gas canisters for sale. The owner is a really great guy and the company ultimately made our trip much, much easier logistically, but also altered the course of our trip.
Chapter 1: Snaefellsness
We decided to start our trip in Borgarnes, which is a town about an hour North of Reykjavík. The drive began with a quick stop for our first Fish and Chips as the rain drizzled down. Over the next couple of hours, I drifted in and out of consciousness after only 1 hour of sleep in the last 24. Each time I came to, rain crinkled on the roof and I saw different versions of mountains and green. The rain drew to a stop right as we finished buying groceries, already a good sign. It was already 4pm, but we were off, headed North towards Snaefellsness, a peninsula in West Iceland nicknamed "Miniature Iceland” or “Iceland in a nutshell”.
We rolled North along HWY 54 towards a small natural hot spring where we planned to wild camp for the night (wild camping is where you just find a spot in nature to camp, trying to be hidden typically). The next couple of days consisted of rolling along the southern part of the peninsula, gazing at the dividing mountains as waterfalls streaked down from above. As is the way with bikepacking, our only worries were food, water, somewhere to sleep, and riding our bikes, and I think that’s one of my favourite things about it—it’s simple, yet as challenging as you want it to be. Our campsites consisted of natural Hot Springs, the foot of a Gorge, and horse fields over the following days.
The days were cool and the nights cold. We cuddled in our tent, outfits consisting of long underwear, puffy coats, and toques. Our last day on Snaefellsness started off with a 2km climb at an average of 4%. Not too bad, eh? Well, today was the day we’d truly see the winds of Iceland for the first time. This climb peaked at 14% and with the crazy headwind and 85lb bikes, we creeped along in granny gear (an ode to the late Iohan Gueorguiev) struggling for every meter. As we crested the top onto a barren plateau, the wind showed its true form, howling in from the side; we leaned our bikes into the wind and pedaled on. Visions of early years from Kona entered my mind, wondering how people rode in this wind on their TT bikes all those years ago.
Our progress continued to slow and our deadline for making the 3pm Ferry started to fall into jeopardy. We hit a point where we had to get off and just start walking the bikes as it was easier and faster than pedaling. The rain started to sprinkle, and while I secretly enjoy this struggle and welcome it as a part of bikepacking, we needed to make that ferry.
Enter Gunar!!! As we trudged along the side of the highway, a large white van pulled over in front of us. Out popped Gunar, a fisherman with a day off, and next thing we knew, our bikes were in the back of the van and the three of us were tucked into the front seat together, off for Stykkishólmur, the ferry town. The rest of the day went smoothly—that is if you discount the very wavy ferry ride, of which I spent the majority catching up on sleep and avoiding seasickness. We left behind the peninsula and landed in the Fjords, the rainy, windy, beautiful Westfjords of Iceland!
Our initial plan of a loop around Snaefellsness and then to head to the South of Iceland was short-lived. Local knowledge is always the best and we took some of that advice by catching a ferry to the Westfjords! There is an official bikepacking route there (https://bikepacking.com/routes/westfjords-way/), and while we didn’t have time to ride it all, the southeastern part was ours for the taking.
Chapter 2: The Westfjords
The next three days provided us with much of what Iceland has to offer. We weaved our way in and out of long-fingered Fjords with very little traffic (a bikepacker's dream), climbed over passes, endured all-day rain, strong headwinds, beautiful sunsets, amazing quiet hotels, and some of the best soup we’ve ever had.
Our first full day in the Westfjords is one of my favourite days of the trip. It started waking in a soggy tent with soaked gear, but the promise of a warmer day to come. We had a nice gentle descent with a tailwind bringing about whoops and yips of joy. The fingers in these fjords are long, typically between 5–20km to get along one side and around to the next. Around midday, we hit a climb that would take us over a fjord instead of around it for the first time. We slowly weaved our way up, stopping often to rest and take in the beautiful view.
After a slow descent into a strong headwind, evening quickly approached and we needed to think about where to camp. We had 17km of headwind to get around the last finger. It was getting late and rain was forecasted to start around 10pm—it was going to be close. We put our heads down and pedalled steadily into the wind, inching our way closer to the other side of the finger and a tailwind! We drifted down a quiet road, eyes open for a water source and flat ground. As is often the case, patience paid off and we were rewarded with an excellent wild camp spot. To top it off, the rain didn’t come until an hour after we were snuggled in our bed—luck on our side.
As the rain was forecasted all day the following day, we booked a hotel and rode the 40km through mud and rain, but made it to the hotel by midday. We sat down to the best soup and bread we had all trip and got to relax and drink coffee all day while our stuff dried out.
Chapter 3: The Return
Over the next few days, we started our journey back to Reykjavík. We had a few more long climbs over moderate grades, descended back down into the mainland where pools awaited us, flowed through valleys full of horses and sheep, and slept where the water ran and we were out of sight. Despite being out of the Westfjords, the wind did not abate; we struggled over rolling hills as we made our way through mainland Iceland.
The traffic picked up and so did the opportunities. Martha bought an authentic Icelandic wool sweater from a small roadside shop, and we made our way to a really nice, albeit pricey, hot spring with 7 different pools and the opportunity to cold dip in the ocean just below. We descended down into entirely new landforms, slept along the elbow of a river, and survived one last bout of rain right after we descended down towards Reykjavík.
The last part of our trip was following well-marked bike paths through the city to the main tourist area. We finished off with a traditional Icelandic hot dog, made with a blend of pork, beef, and lamb, and stumbled across a delicious Polish dumpling shop. Sheep Car Rental picked us back up and took us to Keflavík, where we boxed our bikes back up, ready to fly home early the next day.
I could write at length about this trip, but hopefully you enjoyed a snapshot of what it was about. The most beautiful thing about travel by bike is there aren’t any rules to it. You can do it however you like, because it’s your journey and it’s unique to how you want it to be. If you’re interested in a more detailed look at the trip, there is a 3-part video series posted to the YouTube channel JimJamm18.