Day 1: First Tölt Along the Icelandic Coast

Arrival in Reykjavik

Following an uneventful flight (in which I actually slept, which was a small miracle for me) and a few quiet hours sitting at the airport, Kate and I caught a taxi to the meeting point in Reykjavik (a bus terminal), where our adventure would begin.

We stood outside the bus terminal, waiting for our shuttle, quietly chatting about what was to come. Curious, we asked a few nearby women if they were also there for the same trip. It turns out they were! We quickly struck up conversation, swapping stories of where we were from to pass the time.

Meeting Siggi

Around 13:55, a tall, cheerful, bearded ginger man in a jacket branded with “Stori Kambur” rounded the corner and asked if we were here for horseback riding.

“Yes!” we all replied in unison, grinning.

He introduced himself as Siggi, then ducked inside the terminal to gather additional guests. When he returned, we followed him around the side of the building to our transportation: a rugged F350 extended cab dually and a 10-person van.

We played a quick round of luggage Tetris to fit everything in the truck bed, exchanged names and home countries (US, Denmark, Netherlands, France, Germany, and Malta), and then split between the truck and van for the 2.5-hour drive to our base for the week. Kate and I rode in the truck with Jacqueline (NLD) and Tanja (GER) and Siggi drove.

The Drive to Snæfellsnes Peninsula

As we traveled, Siggi told us about Iceland, his family history, the farm, and the horses. Notable takeaways he shared:

• Iceland has the second-highest horse-to-human ratio in the world (after Mongolia).
• Only one breed of horse, cow, and sheep are found here, and no other breeds can be imported.
• Icelandic sheep are notoriously stubborn.
• They are horses, not ponies.
• There’s a “right to passage” law for travelers on foot or horseback—farmers can suggest a route but can’t deny access.
• Siggi’s family has lived here since the Vikings. Their farm spans about 5,000 acres, much of which the horses roam in seasonal pastures.
• They harvest only one cutting of hay each year—low enough quality to avoid ailments like Insulin resistance, Cushing's disease, and Laminitis.
• Stori Kambur has about 140 horses and hopes to add more.
• They’ve run day tours for years and just started week-long tours this summer—ours was the last one of the season.
  
  

Lodging: The Holy Ram

We eventually pulled into our accommodations, and Siggi told us to settle in and be ready in about an hour for our first evening ride.

The accommodations were beautiful and unique. We were in the “fancier” of the two options, the Holy Ram - a sheep barn renovated into a hotel -  and had a private bathroom, lush common area, and access to a sauna and hottub. The shared area had some serious Hogwarts house common room vibes. 

Sauna and hot tub out back

Kate and I's shared room

The view out our bar-top window

Common room

Dining area

Evening common room vibes

Set for dinner

Disco vibes in the hallway leading to the rooms

Meeting the Horses

A short shuttle ride took us to the corrals, where our horses were already tacked and waiting. Before the trip, we had submitted our riding experience and whether we’d ridden Icelandic horses before so the team could match us with a suitable horse. The first night’s ride acted as a trial. If the match wasn’t right, we could switch for day two. After that, we’d stick with the same horse because starting on day three, we’d be riding point-to-point and leaving the horses in fields overnight.

They paired me with a chestnut gelding named Penny. He was described as “easygoing, but can move when he wants to.” Poor Penny endured 30 minutes of me calling him her until the guide gently corrected me. Sorry, dude!

Horses saddled in the paddock; group members waiting to get helmets and rubber boots (if needed)

Penny!

The First Ride

We started along a gravel road bisecting one of the pastures, then moved onto the coastal flats. Within minutes, we experienced our first tölt, a signature gait of Icelandic horses. It reminded me of the smooth gait of Tennessee walkers, Kentucky mountain horses, and Rocky mountain horses. Maybe not quite as smooth as some of the walkers I've ridden, but still a delight.

Penny was forward and heavy in the hand at first. He knew where he was going and he knew his job. I chuckled at him and apologized for being the silly human he had to show around. He wasn’t rude in any sense. I could just tell he really knew his job and was impatient to do it and return to his pasture for the night. 

After our group passed through (and closed) the gate to the horse pasture, we crossed an expanse of shallow water to a sand bar. This transitioned into a grassy tidal islet where we traversed along the sandy margin that met the inner waterway. We did a bit more tolting as we traveled this area. When the path transitioned into sand bar with a firmer surface, we got our first gallop on the horses. 

Our first tolting!

Looking east

The pasture and our accommodations in the distance

I moved Penny to the front after the gates hoping he might settle closer to the front; I've ridden so many horses through the years who have strong opinions about following but settle once in the front. It helped, but ultimately he was forward until the first gallop

Lele sharing various bits about Iceland as we meandered along

Mist to the east and the expanse of water we'd cross

We zoomed along the sandy expanse, and I could feel him settle beneath me. I asked him to walk when the guide, Lele, cued for it, and Penny was much more amenable to this request than he’d been in the minutes prior to the gallop. From this point onward in our ride, I was able to drop the reins and relax as he plodded quietly behind the guide’s horse.

Grinning big after my first gallop on an Icelandic horse, I followed behind Lele as we continued along sandy margins bordering numerous tidal islets. My head was on a constant swivel taking in the coastal landscape around me. I observed the shorebirds and vegetation as well as the dramatic Iceland landscape as it transitioned from coast, to lowland fields, to mountains. Just stunning. 

I was very grateful for Penny’s more relaxed nature at this point. It enabled me to easily pull my phone from my pocket and capture the passing landscape. As fun as it may have been to experience a more spirited horse, I was grateful for a mount whom I could trust to relax and navigate the terrain so I could look around and take it all in - both with my eyes and my camera.

We crossed deeper water (belly-high on the Icelandics) and emerged onto a grassy stretch dotted with rocks, wrapped in dusky light and mist. It felt as though I’d ridden straight into the pages of The Mists of Avalon. Ethereal only begins to describe it.

Crossing the water

Such good horses!

Smiles all around

Cheesin' hard

There were 15 of us + 2 to 3 guides most days.

These horses are the best.

The landscape was so ethereal!

Heading toward a spot to graze for a bit

Looking to the west-northwest, back toward the farm and our lodging

Amidst this otherworldly landscape, we dismounted and took time to let the horses graze for 10-15 minutes. As I would learn in coming days, resting the horses and allowing them time to eat/drink is a common occurrence about once every hour on our rides.

After the break, we crossed the water again and veered left toward the true coastline. We were fortunate to watch an arctic fox run across the beach and then see a curious seal just past the breaking waves. 

We followed the coast for a half kilometer or so before turning back inland to follow along the sandy margins of the tidal islets back toward home. The wind picked up as we went, and by the time we were crossing the shallow water to the gate and road through the pasture, the wind was whipping across the water's surface with dramatic gusts! 

On the beach with waves from the North Atlantic crashing along our left

Cheerful chatting 

Smiles and excitement all around

My excitement was growing by the minute during this ride

Making the turn for the mainland

A lovely single file line

Still cheesin'

The area we galloped at the beginning of the ride

Evening at the Holy Ram

At the corrals, we were told to memorize our saddles (each had little clips and do-dads to tell them apart) since we’d use the same saddle all week. After untacking and turning the horses out, we headed back to our lodgings to change and head to dinner, something I was excited for because the tour advertised that we would enjoy traditional Icelandic food that was locally sourced. 

Dinner did not disappoint: white fish caught by Siggi’s dad, paired with potatoes and salad, followed by his family’s cheesecake recipe. This cheesecake had a thick, rich crust almost equal in height to the filling, a sweet, brown-sugary deliciousness.

Afterward, the guides gathered us to debrief on our horses. They emphasized the importance of finding a good match, as starting on day three, we’d be riding away from the farm for four days and leaving the horses overnight in remote pastures. Having a horse you trust makes all the difference.

I had nothing but praise for Penny. Though strong in the hand at first, he’d settled beautifully after our gallop. I loved that I could drop the reins, trust him, and look around and enjoy the landscape, the birds, the magic of it all. He let me experience both the ride and the place.

Plans for Day 2

With the horse pairings mostly settled, the guides outlined our next day: about four hours in the saddle, riding west along the coast toward a seaside town called Arnarstapi. We’d travel along cliffs with sweeping views, rest and explore the town for an hour, then ride back on a trail that paralleled the main road.

After such a long day of travel and adventure - not to mention the four-hour time difference! - I was beyond exhausted. I crawled into bed and slept like a rock.