Our 1995 Trip - The 19-day Club Special Tour
A one week of horse riding trek was not enough. You are tired for the first three days and don't get into the swing of things until day four. So we decided to sign up for a two-week trek in 1995. When I contacted Ishestar, the company owner responded that we "could" go on the two-week trek, but during the same dates he would be leading a three week ride that covered some territory that modern day riding tours had never done. Plus, we would be riding with members of the "Club". A group of people that had ridden with Ishestar before and were good riders, people that did not require babysitters.
This trek started in Arnarstapi - we covered in 2 days what had taken 4 days in our 1993 ride. I had thought the riding was risky before. I never imagined we would move so far so fast with a herd of horses.
A couple days later we crossed a one-mile bay on this trek that had water about two feet deep. Just before we reached the bay we transferred to "fresh" Icelandic horses. 
They sent the riders ahead to cross the bay first, and held the herd back. The only way to cross quickly was to canter and get about the water for leaps forward. It was amazing. Like flying. The wind was blowing and the froth was flying. You had to stay away from being down wind of other riders so you wouldn't get soaked. It was so exhilarating we called our Icelandic horses seahorses after that. When we got to the beach on the other side we dismounted and waited for the herd to arrive. They arrived in a crazed state of excitement and we all had to work to keep them from stampeding off into the countryside. But they soon relaxed, calmed down, cooled off and then we changed horses again and continued on. The painting to the right is based on some photos of that amazing experience. 
The photo to the left is from a more sedate crossing at Ho Bay a few days later.
On three different days Einar had contracted with local farmers to come meet us and show us the way through their local territory. The guys who showed up were usually in their 60s or 70s and were riding hot horses to show them off to the tourists. None of them spoke anything other than Icelandic.
The farmer pictured on the right (and via Einar's translation) had a fun time trying to marry his son off to Doris, a German biologist on the ride. Doris had great fun with it. One another day two farmers were showing us the route they used to get from one farmer's farm to the other. It included crossing a large river. Charlie and I were in the front that day. It was the two farmers, a German woman and a Norwegian woman, then Charlie, then me. 
We got to the river and the farmer's horses just stepped off a steep little bank and started across the river. I watched the maneuver and worried. Too tough for me. But the German woman, a quite experienced rider, went on ahead. She had trouble but was successful. The Norwegian woman then went. Her horse stepped off the bank, down into the river and she continued right over its head into the water. Luckily it was not a river with rapids that came right off a glacier, but all the rivers in Iceland are quite cold. Our normal guides were able to find us an easier route into the water. After her horse was caught and brought back to her, she was able to go the rest of the way across the river and then take the short ride to the farmer's house. There she was warmed up, given dry clothes, and then we all continued on our way.
One of our days traversing new territory was particularly long, we hadn't seen any buildings since early that morning. There was tundra, and lakes, and bogs and glaciers in the distance. 
We asked Einar a couple times - where was the hut - the answer was always - not too far, over the next set of hills. But then we'd see he and Siggy consulting a map to figure out the best route through a series of lakes. After about nine hours we were on a dirt road with short, steep little hills. The road had unexpected rocky spots you had to watch out for, especially when you're still moving right along even though your horse is tired. The horse wants to get there too! Unfortunately Robert, who rides with the club every year, had his horse stumble on a rock at speed. This caused Robert to tumblesault over the top of the horse and then the momentum caused the horse to flip over on top of him. I was riding right behind him and saw it all. The horse was cast on top of him, upside down and was in a downhill gully that wouldn't allow it to change position. One of the Icelandic riders was there in a flash and pulled the horse to the side via its tail. It was then able to roll over and get away. I thought Robert was crushed - but he sat up immediately. Ragnar, one of the riders who's a medical doctor, was soon there checking him out and discovered a dislocated shoulder and a scuffed nose. After a short while, Robert decided he didn't want to sit on the side of the hill until we all got to hut and then wait for a jeep to get him and then take him on a 14 hour bumpy jeep ride to Reykjavik. So he got on a gentle horse and was led to the hut. Later that evening in the back room of the hut, after quite a few liquor sedatives, Ragnar, assisted by Daniella (an Austrian emergency room nurse on the ride), popped Robert's shoulder back into place. A few days later Robert rode with us for the last day of that ride. And he's been back every year since too - he has to, after all he's the official "President" of the club.
The next to the last day of this trip was also quite exciting. The horses recognized the territory, they were headed home. So they were quite willing. Most of the riders were in the front of the herd - there were only five of us bringing up the rear. We were riding along the edge of where there were some summer cottages and closed farms. Some of the horses in the herd were leaving the main trail to try and take short cuts. All of a sudden we saw some horses in front of us start to gallop. We could see that one of the horses had snagged a small coil of barbed wire with his tail. As he ran it stuck him in the butt and the horses around him. Finally it came out and fell off, but it was too late. In those moments the whole herd was stampeding. Luckily the riders in the front found ways to get out of the way, and to maintain control of their mounts. It was terrifying for them. The herd left us - but it turns out we were lucky, they were all peacefully grazing in a familiar pasture by the time we caught up. Einar said that in all his years it was the only time there had ever been a stampede.
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