A Magical Trip to Iceland to Cap Off the Racing Season

I extended my racing season last minute when my dad invited me to join him on a trip to Iceland to race the Fossavatngangan 50k. This is a World Loppet, and another stamp in the passport! I have now completed five (Engadin, Vasaloppet, Birken, Birkie, Fossavatngangan) and I’m starting to think I may just have to finish off this “gold master” thing.  

I don’t think I have ever raced this late in the season, and I wasn’t quite sure how it would go. Before I left Sun Valley, spring was in full swing - the trees were starting to bloom, the hills were showing the first shades of green, and the idea of heading back into winter felt foreign. Mentally I wasn’t sure if I would be able to get back into a racing mindset. Physically, I am tired, and since I haven’t done a single classic race this season, I had some reservations about whether my body would hold up.  

I didn't know what to expect on this trip to Iceland, since I initially abdicated all the trip planning and research to my dad. What I found was a trip that far exceeded my expectations and left me with a contentment that only unexpected delight can conjure. Iceland and the Fossavatngangan shot to the top of my list for best trip of the year. I can’t wait to share it with you and hopefully convince you to book that trip next year. 

Reykjavik to the Westfjords

I arrived in Reykjavik on a Tuesday morning, and spent the rest of the day driving up to the Westfjords. More accurately, my dad was behind the wheel and I was passenger-seat driving. The population of the Westfjords is about 7,000 people which is roughly the equivalent of the population of Hailey, but spread across 8,800 square kilometers. The isolation of each cluster of humanity was increasingly apparent on the drive from Reykjavik to the Flateyri, the tiny town in the Westfjords where we were staying for the week. As we drove north, the buildings gave way to a stark landscape of dark volcanic soil and rocks, rising from the sea into steep snow covered mountains. Towns and then buildings became farther and farther apart, until only small houses and farms appeared sparsely at the head of each of the numerous fjords, with nothing but flat-topped volcanic plateau in between. 

The drive north from Reykjavik to the Westfjords was beautiful, and we had a gorgeous sunny day! 

The road north is narrow and alternates between paved, gravel, and “are we sure this is the main road??” My dad and I couldn’t stop staring, enthralled, out the window as we drove further into the mountains, the ruggedness filling us with a gleeful mix of excitement and trepidation at the increasing isolation. As my dad would say, “this is getting pretty Western!” Yeehaw.

The 5.5 hour drive (we drove the southern route) ended up being a highlight of the trip and a fantastic introduction to what would be an incredible week. We arrived at our apartment early in the evening, and I managed a short walk and a bowl of pasta before finally giving into my jetlag. 

Flateyri and Ísafjörður

Iceland is an enchanting place, and a week in a small area of the Westfjords (Iceland’s northwest peninsulas + fjords) does not even touch all of the wonders that this place has to offer. Certain places for me have a feeling of instant connection and ease, and I felt that as soon as we arrived at Flateyri. 

Flateyri is a tiny fishing village, on a small spit of land jutting into the fjord, nestled precarioulsy between the sea and the avalanche prone mountains. A walking tour of the whole town takes about 15 minutes, and that includes walking the perimeter as well as every single street. I instantly loved it. Each night after dinner, my dad and I went for a walk along the seawall, usually accompanied by a local cat and a pair of ravens. No two nights were the same, and the sunset colors painted the mountains and the sea in a new mosaic of soft winter hues. The vibrant colors of the houses and the fishing boats stood out against the otherwise monochromed landscape. The place felt lived in, and not sanitized or beautified for the sake of visitors.     

The next day, we drove about 20 minutes to Ísafjörður, the largest town in the Westfjords and the host of the Fossavatngangan Ski Marathon. As we started driving, the road disappeared into the mountain and we soon found ourselves in a 6km long tunnel that quickly narrowed into a one-way road with two-way traffic. While it didn’t take long to figure out which direction had the right of way, it certainly got our blood pressure up a bit to watch headlights coming directly at you! 

Emerging from the other side, the town of Ísafjörður appears. Here we stocked up on groceries, gas, and a coffee/pastry at Heimabyggð and waited out a bout of wind and rain, before heading up to ski. Our first day of skiing was a bit of an adventure given the weather (it stopped raining, but the light was flat and it was hard to see), but we got out for an easy classic ski.  

The first day of skiing was the only day that was cloudy and raining. We waited out the wind and rain at a cozy cafe in Isafjodur. 

The next day, we got what can only be considered a gift in Iceland, a bluebird sunny day. There is almost nothing I love more than a long ski on a bluebird day, so I decided to preview the whole 50k course. The nordic trails sit on a plateau above the fjord, and wind their way up to, and then across a bench. At the 25k turnaround, the 50k course continues up and over a ridge and into another hanging valley beyond. They had only groomed the trails for the 25km race taking place that evening, so the outer loop was windblown. But, it was firm underneath and the skiing was actually quite good! As I crested the ridge separating the two valleys, my jaw dropped in awe of the panorama before me. I could see all of the trails stretched out in their entirety, weaving across an unbroken expanse of white hanging between the sea and the cliffs above.   

The photos never capture just how expansive and stunning the landscape really was. 

I was blown away by my closeness to the terrain. As I skied, I was not just passing through, but connecting to this landscape I was just getting to know, but that was somehow familiar. I feel that way often in the mountains, despite feeling so small and even vulnerable, I  get the sense that I belong there. These long skis, disconnected from the chaos of the world, are where I find a kind of natural meditation. I don’t listen to music or podcasts when I exercise; I just let my thoughts roll through my brain untethered.  ON a longer ski, I often arrive at a state of neutral blankness that I can only achieve out here. These uncontained thoughts can go in interesting directions as dehydration and fatigue set in, but today, I was amused that in this incredibly beautiful, isolated, and sparsely populated place, somebody would haul up a Piston Bully and groom nordic trails. I only saw one or two other people during my entire ski, and I arrived back at the trailhead tired, content, and maybe a little sunburned.  

That night, both hungry from our long skis, my dad and I treated ourselves to a delicious dinner at the famous restaurant - Tjöruhúsið - in Ísafjörður. At this restaurant, tables are set out family style, and the meal is served as a buffet. Unsurprisingly, the main event was the five different kinds of fish, all catch of the day, and all prepared in traditional Icelandic styles. One of the more famous dishes was fried cod cheeks, which I’m not sure I can accurately describe, but they were incredible. There was also a classic seafood soup and a variety of side dishes including roasted potatoes (my favorite) and homemade pickles. Needless to say, we did not go hungry.   

On Friday after our pre-race ski, we connected up with Tyler Wacker who owns “The Fjord Hub” in Ísafjörður. He let us wax our skis in a room he had set up for racers in the marathon to use for the event. Having done my fair share of parking lot scraping, it was so helpful to have a wax room with everything you could need (byo wax!). After hemming and hawing with my wax tech (aka Dad) about the right combinations of klister for the conditions, we left as prepared as we could be for race day. 

   

The night before the race, we were treated to a great show of Northern Lights.  

The Fossavatngangan 

After a few days of settling in, it was finally time for the main event: the Fossavatngangan 50k. This race is quite small compared to other World Loppets, and it made for a relaxed and pleasant race morning. No cramming like sardines on a 4am bus, no lines for the bathrooms, no fighting for a spot near the front on the start line, and you can start anytime you’d like between 8 and 9am (although if you want to compete for the win, you need to start right at 8). I treated myself to a second row start behind Andreas Nygaard and we were off!   

For the first 5km, which were almost all climbing onto the plateau, myself and Lea (former DU skier) gained a decent gap on the other women who had decided to double pole. I was feeling pretty good about having good kick on my skis until we gained the bench and the course conditions completely changed. What had been a firm but skiable track became filled with windblown snow and ice-hard corduroy in between. Because so few of the men had kick on, and because the top women were towards the front of the race, the tracks were not skied in at all, and there was no choice but to double pole in the center of the track. The kick that had felt like a race winning strategy was suddenly a massive liability. I knew that most of the rest of the course would be in similar conditions, and that meant I would likely be double poling for the majority if not all of the race from here on out.  

That made me nervous because this just so happened to be my first classic race of the whole season, and I had neglected to do any amount of DP specific training, or any gym strength training for the past 1.5 months. Either my arms would give out, or my back would, and it was a coin toss on which would come first. By 15km, Lea Stabaek Wenaas and I were caught by Sophia Valicer who had chosen to DP, and the two of them steadily pulled away from me. I was starting to feel nervous that this was the beginning of the end for me in the fight for the podium. 

There are many crossroads in a race, some physical, some tactical, and some mental. Realizing I was getting dropped put me at all three and there were some choices to be made: How hard can I go to try to stay connected? How long can I sustain that effort? What is the potential energy cost? Do I even want to push myself that hard? What is the cost of easing off and settling into a steadier pace? Should I just let it happen and settle for the place I’m in? And so on. 

Luckily, I have a pretty good sense of how a 50km usually unfolds for me, and the longer into the race I get, the better I tend to feel (comparatively). If I maintain a steady pace, I ~usually~ end up catching back up to people who started too hard, and I generally don’t “bonk” unless I make the same mistake or I don’t fuel correctly. I saw that I wasn’t actually that far behind, and that the gap would occasionally shrink, but never grow. I decided to ski at an aggressive but sustainable pace and try to make up time later in the race. Knowing myself paid off. In the last 5km, I caught 2nd place and managed to pass her in the final 200m.  

Women's Podium: Annika Landis, Sophia Velicer, Lea Stabaek Wenaas. Family Podium! 

I am always proud when I can look back on a race and feel like I did the best I could. In this race, mindset was everything when things started to get hard. I had a personally meaningful mantra playing on a loop in my head, and it helped carry me through those moments when my arms were threatening to cramp and my brain was saying to just walk it in. It also reminded me to look up, and be jolted with incredulity at the places I get to ski in.  

Photo of the start: courtesy of Fossavatn Facebook page. 

After I finished, I got to head back out on course and cheer on my dad as he finished his race. I am so grateful that my dad invited me to share this experience with him, and I am unequivocally adding it to the long list of memories with him that I will cherish. These experiences and travelling to ski races are only worthwhile because of the people I get to share them with. Of course the top of the list is my family and friends, but it extends to the strangers that feel like friends after a shared conversation over a quartered finish line banana. 

Both the locals and the participants of this race impressed me more than any other WorldLoppet I have participated in. Maybe part of that is the size of the race, only around 600 people, that makes the setting more intimate and relaxed. Every person I talked to and interacted with was incredibly kind and welcoming with an quick sense of humor. 

One example of this is the famous cake buffet at the end of the race, where local residents prepare an extensive offering of traditional cakes for all race participants to try. I saw everything from traditional chocolate cakes, to cakes with shrimp, which I did not dare to sample. There was a generosity and ease at this event that made it incredibly enjoyable, stress free, and profoundly meaningful. I cannot say enough good things about this race and I would highly recommend it to anyone looking for an unforgettable experience. 

A Day in Reykjavik 

All good things must end, and soon it was time to head home. We had the whole day to drive back to Reykjavik (we took a slightly longer northern route that was much easier driving) and had a relaxing evening to walk down the main shopping street. Needing a break from fish, we found a delicious Pakistani restaurant and sweated our way through a “mild” curry.  

The famous church in Reykjavik and a "muesli" cinnamon roll from Braud & Co. 

My dad flew out in the morning, but I wasn’t leaving until 5pm, so I had more time to explore Reykjavik. I took a stroll to the highly recommended Braud & Co bakery and got two cinnamon rolls, one for now, one for later. A common thing to do in Iceland is experience the geothermal spas and lagoons, but to me, the price tag for the popular ones felt a bit outrageous for tourist soup. Instead, I found a local public pool and for $9 I had access to two heated pools, two hot tubs of different temps, a sauna and a cold plunge, all outdoors. I spent a blissful two hours at the pool on another beautifully sunny day, taking particular advantage of the sauna + cold plunge combo. I could feel the soreness in my back, shoulders, and neck melting away and I left feeling incredibly refreshed. I did a little shopping and a lot of browsing, before hopping on a bus to the airport. At security, I was promptly pulled aside for “additional screening” and was led into a small stainless steel room where my bag set off multiple chemical alarms, was fully turned inside out, and I was thoroughly questioned and patted down before the “supervisor” determined with a laugh that is was likely chlorine from the pool. Even this experience was somehow positive, as the agents were kind and gentle, asking genuine questions about the race (“this is not on the form, but did you win?”), and giving me a few recommendations for my next visit. TSA could never. 

On this trip, as with most of my travels, I chose to do only a few activities and do them well. I really hope that I can return to Reykjavik and explore more of what the city has to offer, as well as the rest of this beautiful country. 

A few things to note: 

The driving: Not all roads are created equal. It is really not so bad, but if you are not used to driving narrow dirt roads, just plan to be cautious and take your time. 

The weather: We had sun every day of our trip. Locals joked that we got every sunny day of the year in one week. I’m sure some of my overall enthusiasm would have been slightly dampened if we had not had such incredible weather. Hope for the best, plan for the worst.  

Logistics: This trip was not very difficult to organize, all things considered, but if you want to make it really easy on yourself, I'd encourage you to check out the 2027 Lumi Experiences trip!