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Bruce og Óli's Camping Trip Journal
13-15 Ágúst 2004, Iceland
By Bruce McMillan
Friday evening Saturday morning
Saturday afternoon Saturday evening
Sunday morning Sunday afternoon
Sunday afternoon, 15 Ágúst

Glacial till-filled lakes in the desert.
With a cloudy sky we head home, a three hour drive over bumpy dirt trail roads. I tend to call them these dam roads because so many of them are the tops of the human made dams by the lakes that supply the electric hydropower. We see some Jeeps, people going fishing, and I note that we are the only non Jeep in these parts.

Stephen Vaughn, the photographer.
We see a photographer with an 8" x 10" view camera and we stop. I'd noticed him looking over his shoulder for some sun to break through the Icelandic clouds and it wasn't about to, and I knew what he was feeling and so I went over to say hello. While Óli calls Bína on the cell phone to find out how much blueberry jam she's made up north - we are now back in range - I chat with the British photographer Stephen Vaughn, , who is just finishing up a week's shooting here in Iceland. He's working on a project called Ultima Thule, tracing the archaeological evidence surrounding the journey of Pytheas of Massalia in 320 BC to the far northern edges of the known European world, Iceland and the Arctic Circle. Then it's back on the dusty road.

The flowing river filled with color.
The road is so dusty that when we finally hit pavement it was a celebration time for opening the windows. Good thing we washed the car in Hveragerði, where I noticed a back tire leaking air. A quick tire change and we were back in Reykjavik by 6:30 pm, where for a brief moment we had to put on the windshield wipers, our only precipitation all weekend. And people wonder why I think it should be renamed from Reykjavík, which translates to smoky bay, to Regnvík, which translates to rainy bay. Now why would anyone think I'm from Akureyri? But we are back, and sunburned in Iceland.

Only one tire leak during the whole trip
from traveling on those very sharp rock strewn roads.
The end
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