Another Wednesday. Blowing snow, wind, all the right ingredients for a lovely evening stroll after work. This time, T66 was headed to Meðalfell, in Kjós, the valley/pass connecting Hvalfjörður with the Þingvellir area. This trip was a perfect example of, "If it was just me, I'd already be at the bar" walking. If you're forced to do it, you just do it, even though we didn't see much of anything, and didn't even get to the "top" This was the beginning of a theme that would repeat itself at Geitafell the week after. The "top" was just a highpoint at the end of a long plateau. And with a strung out crowd of people, late, in the dark, with snowy drop offs at the highpoint itself, we simply "made it" while clearly not being at the top. Apparently some need to get everyone back in some reasonable order was more important that the fact that we'd already traipsed across the plateau for a good 1.5-2km, and was the final 300m going to kill us? *grumble*
A lot of exercise for me on this trip. The train just kept on trucking, so a short stop for me with a tripod meant a _lot_ of running uphill in snow to catch up. Good exercise though, as always.