Happy New Year, all!
This is the third year I've taken ALL pressure to ride off myself for the 10 darkest weeks of the year (November 16 - January 25), and it's been wonderful. However, my motivation to get out and ride is returning with the slowly lengthening days, so I expect the blog will slowly come back to life as I have more to write about.
In the mean time, I wanted to share a short, funny story from Iceland.
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After our week-long riding tour with Stóri Kambur, Siggi and Atli drove us back to the city to meet the bus and head to our next accommodations. Some folks took the bus straight to the airport, while others, Kate and I included, had a few extra days to spend in Reykjavík and the Golden Circle. We stayed for three days, soaking it all in.
As I briefly mentioned in the caption of an older post, I got very drunk on Icelandic “burning wine” our final night at Stóri Kambur. The following morning brought the worst hangover I’d had since June 2018. It was wretched. While I thankfully avoided the vertigo that plagued me in 2018, the nausea was intense, making for a very long drive from Snæfellsnes to Reykjavík.
I was back in the truck with Kate, Jacqueline, Tanja, and Siggi, the same group from our drive out to Stóri Kambur at the beginning of the week. After seven days together, they could all tell how miserable I felt by how uncharacteristically quiet I was.
Eventually, Siggi drew me into conversation about all things horses and Iceland, which helped distract me as the miles and hours passed.
One of the topics that came up was the stunning custom leather chaps worn by all of our guides. It turns out Siggi works with a local leather worker who makes them and handles much of the tack used by his herd. I mentioned how much I’d love a pair, but wasn’t sure the timing was right and worried I wouldn’t get enough use out of them back home due to our increasingly long, hot, humid summers (ugh).
Siggi, undeterred, did not take my uncertainty as a no. At our next pit stop, he called the leather worker. By the time we climbed back into the truck, Siggi informed me that the leather worker could see me that day and that after dropping everyone else at the bus stop, he would take Kate and me to his workshop. From there, he would drop us at our guesthouse just up the hill.
Thank goodness for that, because my hungover self was not looking forward to schlepping my luggage uphill in any capacity.
And so Kate and I found ourselves zipping through Reykjavík in Siggi’s giant F350 Super Duty, headed to a leather worker who operated out of his home.
Siggi and the leather worker chatted in Icelandic while Kate and I admired the many beautiful wares on display. Before long, Siggi helped broker a deal, my measurements were taken, and the leather worker promised to have my custom chaps completed by that evening within four to five hours. He offered to meet me in town so I could try them on, and if any adjustments were needed, he would fix them and bring them back the next day.
We agreed he would meet me in Reykjavík either before or after our 7:00 p.m. dinner reservation with a few other riders from the trip.
With the deal done and payment exchanged, Siggi dropped us off at our guesthouse, where we rested before heading out to dinner.
Shortly after we were seated at the restaurant, I received a call from an unfamiliar number. Expecting the leather worker, I answered. Sure enough, it was him. He was already on his way to meet me at the guesthouse. The whole dinner reservation detail had been lost in translation earlier. Whoops.
With his broken English and my complete lack of Icelandic, we fumbled through a conversation trying to redirect him to the sushi restaurant downtown. Eventually, I had to hand my phone to the hostess because I couldn’t pronounce the name of the street we were on.
It took about 15 to 20 minutes to sort out. During that time, I stood outside on a narrow sidewalk along a one-way street, chuckling at how ridiculous and wonderful this story was becoming, while scanning for a jeep-like car.
Finally, I spotted him. I waved and smiled, and he pulled up, stopped right in the middle of the street, smiled back, and hopped out to make sure the chaps fit.
Yes, he stopped his car in the middle of a semi-busy one-way street in downtown Reykjavík to put full leather chaps on a random woman from the U.S. An absolute sight.
He gave a few tugs to the chaps once they were zipped and looked them over with a professional eye before asking me if they felt right. I beamed at him and confirmed that they were perfect.
After exchanging apologies for the miscommunication and excessive gratitude on my part for his willingness to deliver them into town, we said goodbye. He jumped back into his car and drove off before too many drivers were stuck waiting behind him.
I unzipped the chaps, folded them up, and headed back into the restaurant, where four very giggly horse ladies were eagerly waiting to see them and hear the full story of my impromptu street fitting.
Only in Iceland.
In the end, I'm so very happy with my decision to get these chaps. I wore them all fall and they kept me warm, waterproof, and protected from thick brush on my trail riding adventures. I look forward to a lifetime wearing them.
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| Honestly impressed they fit so easily over these wide leg pants |
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| The photo Kate took and sent to our Stori Kambur group chat for all of the week's participants to see and celebrate |
