Our Icelandic self-driving tour book described, “a little water adventure:…by walking carefully on rocks in a stream, you can avoid getting your feet wet and see a waterfall.” Yes! I steadied my rickety knees with a hiking stick and tackled the rocks. Falling into the shallow stream wouldn’t have killed me. I’d likely have been hurt though, so I struggled along testing every step, setting my stick, grappling the canyon wall for grips, stopping to revel in the beauty. The canyon walls soon narrowed to a slot with scenery so gorgeous I groaned.
Passing hikers warned that the rocks ahead were slippery. Another assured us that traversing the section with chain handholds was not as scary as it looked. We rounded a few more bends and watched a mother fighting herself to risk each steppingstone across the stream to the chain section. Meanwhile, her boys scrambled up a hump on the far side, then found footholds under a shelf while griping the chain loops to lean out. I watched the mom teeter for some time before I sounded retreat. I didn’t much mind missing the 106th waterfall of our trip and counted our excursion a mega success. Now, I find that missing my try at the chains is what I regret.
Still, of all the wondrous experiences Iceland thrilled us with, canyoneering that ravine was my absolute favorite. I’ve made a mental note to remember to push more limits on future trips. The best adventures evidently come through personal challenge.
…And here I sit, seriously balking at the next step in prepping for my book launch—as if my shiny insight were only true for travel. Thunderation, woman! Get after it. Adventure awaits.