Reykjavík Grapevine - 08.04.2016, Qupperneq 49

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The Icelandic word for horse
is hestur, which translates as
“peaceful creature with floating
hooves and blow-dried hair as if
lifted from the scalp of a 1980s
supermodel.” These animals are
notably wily and smart, many of
them published poets. It has been
suggested that Iceland’s earliest
laws were drafted by horses and
certain of the Sagas owe their en-
during power to authorial assis-
tance provided by distinguished
horse editors, who provided their
riders/writers with shrewd notes
as to narrative pacing and plot.
None of the above is true in
any demonstrable sense, but the
breed—so unusual and distinct to
anyone with even a passing famil-
iarity with horses—does occasion
certain adventures of the mind.
Their small size can confuse one’s
idea of scale, so that the sight of
an Icelandic horse in the country-
side might, like an optical illusion,
make the animal appear as if far
off in the distance when in fact it
is just a few paces away. And their
comportment! No more than a
fleeting look is needed to discern
and even begin to feel the breed’s
disquieting combination of el-
egance and poise. They are calm,
tranquil animals with an aura of
beatific ease.
Serenity serves horses well
when tasked to withstand the
kind of indignities visited upon
them when enlisted to give nov-
ice jockeys a ride. The horses at
Laxnes Horse Farm, a 20-min-
ute drive northeast from Reyk-
javik, have been trained to do so
since 1968, when Þórarinn “Dóri”
Jónasson and his delightful wife
Ragnheiður “Heiða” Gislason
started the farm with designs to
be the first real activity company
in Iceland.
“Everybody thought I was cra-
zy,” Dóri laughs now about those
prescient days decades ago. “I still
am, but I’m undercover so nobody
knows.”
Dragon rider
A visit to Laxnes just a few weeks
ago started with a warm greeting
from Dóri and two animals even
smaller than Icelandic horses: a
bushy sheepdog named Kalli and a
yapping counterpart whose pres-
ence was the reason for a sign on a
wall inside: “Warning! Chihuahua
on Duty.”
The horses, however, were the
star of the show. “Are you ready to
rock ’n’ roll?” Dóri asked once the
scene was fully surveyed, prompt-
ing an answer along the lines of
“Hmm, well, yes, I haven’t ever
really done this but I guess so…”
Inside, Heiða hooked us up with
all the warm clothes we could pos-
sibly want—us being my wife and
I, neither previously wrapped in
enough wool or the least bit expe-
rienced in the equestrian arts.
To the horse pen we went, to be
matched up with animals suited
to our demeanor and size. For me,
Dreki—a fine light-brown speci-
men whose name translates as
“dragon.” Imagine, if you will: a
formidable beast, untamable to
all but the most intrepid and com-
manding in stature. Now amend
that imagining to: a quiet and
strong soul, described as some-
times a little moody and imperi-
ous but overall a fun and easy ride.
The journey started off in bril-
liant afternoon light, white with
golden hues glinting against the
inviting snow. Basic instructions
are given as to how to distribute
your weight and maneuver the
reins, but nothing too detailed—
you will get a handle on it all as
the walk goes on. About ten of us
ventured out, ranging in age from
around eight to fifty. Some clearly
knew how to ride, especially the
youngest ones, whose confidence
and control was a bit disarming at
the start. But many did not, their
uncertainty masked by what can
only be described as the very cool
feeling of being on the back of an
Icelandic horse.

Near-death
experience
The breed is famous for its unique
gaits, including an unusually sta-
ble and sure-footed one and espe-
cially a “flying pace” during which
long spells of no hooves touching
the ground lend a sense of levita-
tion. None of that, mercifully, fig-
ures in a beginner’s leisurely tour,
48 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 4 — 2016TRAVEL
Horse Riding
Of Horses
And Men
Over hill and under... water:
an Icelandic horse-riding
experience
By ANDY BATTAGLIA