Reykjavík Grapevine - 08.04.2016, Síða 50

which focuses instead on easy
walking and trotting with nice
open views of the countryside.
The views have a lot to offer:
mountains, streams, sky. The
streams roll by at your side un-
til, in a move that proves a little
nerve-jangling for the rookie
rider, the call comes to cross over,
with the horse going down into
the wetness and through and then
up again. Dreki, it turned out, had
ideas of his own, so mid-river
he stopped and lurched his neck
forward to take a drink, almost
throwing off his lumbering rider
in the process. It made for a thrill
and a little jolt of fear, not least for
the sudden suspicion that maybe
the horse was in actual fact the
nykur, the mythical Icelandic wa-
ter-horse creature that prowls the
land only to carry its riders deep
down to aquatic recesses and a
drowning death.
It turned out Dreki was in-
nocent and just thirsty, so the
realization was more simple but
no less profound: You can lead a
horse to water, but you can’t make
it NOT drink.
Fully charged

The ride continued on through the
valley, with a brief pause during
which everyone got out of their
saddles and took a break. Asked
for his thoughts about the ride
so far, with a recorder on-hand
to document any answer, Dreki
demurred. Questioned about his
rider’s clumsy but hopefully still
somehow charming manner,
again: no comment. The inter-
view was cut short when, instead
of sharing his thoughts, Dreki
showed his teeth and tried to eat
my notebook.
Fair enough—sometimes si-
lence says all that need be said. So
we rode on, all of us in the group
with greater finesse as the trek
stretched on. It’s clear that the
horses know what they’re doing
and who they’re doing it for, but
the two Laxnes guides leading
the ride let them open up and play
around a little too. A lot of walk-
ing, a little trotting and some
parts where you start to feel the
full charge of bouncing up and
down—the range is good and
comfortable for a two-hour stroll.
Back at the farm, it was hard to
say goodbye. Dreki appeared a lit-
tle broken up too, or at least savvy
enough to make it seem so in the
service of procuring food or what-
ever else he might like back in the
pen. He deserved it—he earned it.
He’s a real pro.
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ICELAND’S WESTFJORDS
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Distance to Mosfellsdalur
18 km
How to get there:
Drive route 1 to West Iceland, turn right to Þingvellir after
Mosfellsbær to Mosfellsdalur, then turn left after 2 minutes.
Tour provided
by Laxnes Horse Farm
book at www.laxnes.is
49The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 4 — 2016 TRAVEL