Wild Horses in Iceland

I grew up around horses. I rode horseback before I could walk and was fascinated with everything equine. I had every horse book and every horse figurine I could find. I watched Black Beauty on continual repeat. My passion for horses continued throughout my childhood and early adult years, even leading me to do my undergrad senior photography project on horseback while helping heard cattle. It’s not easy to steady a camera on a moving animal, but god was it fun. However, while I spent considerable time around horses, one experience had always eluded me. Seeing them in the wild. It was a dream, but one I didn’t realize I would have to travel so far to fulfill.

Fast-forward several years and I’m a newlywed on a grand adventure on the other side of the world. My husband, sister-in-law, and I were hiking the Laugavegur Trail in Iceland. A four-day, hut to hut hike in some of the most spectacular landscapes I had ever seen. One moment it felt like we were trekking across Mars and the next we were surrounded by lush greenery that was nearly iridescent. I don’t think I will ever see so many glaciers, rivers, and waterfalls ever again.

It was the third day of our journey and we had already hiked twenty-three grueling kilometers. Mostly uphill. Mostly across ice fields and through blowing snow. We had even crossed a barren lava field that appeared to be right out of Mordor. And, while draining, it had all been breathtakingly beautiful. Each new landscape struck me with awe and I found myself wanting to stop every few steps just to take it all in. This day was a bit different, though. The night before, a massive storm had settled in the valley where we were staying. Wind and rain blew so strongly that I was certain the roof was going to get ripped right off our hut. Very little sleep was had that evening, and so we started off the day already exhausted and hiking through the tail end of the storm.

A lot of the morning was spent hiking down very wet rocks and against strong winds. And due to the low clouds, there wasn’t much of a view to salve the difficulty of the trek. We had to ford two wide, deep, painfully cold rivers, maintaining balance against the wind while wearing our heavy packs. And just ahead of us was the largest peak we had scaled yet. But once we reached that, the hard part of the day would be over. We were told that just on the other side was a lovely valley before a final climb to that night’s hut.

Nearly two hours later, somehow both soaked in sweat and freezing cold, we crested the peak and then began our decent into the valley. And suddenly, the clouds we had been walking through all morning parted, and the amazing riverbed valley opened up before us. It was a spread of vibrant green, the hue of which I had never seen before in nature. I was suddenly in an Eden-esque landscape surrounded by craggy peaks and distant glaciers. The beauty of it pulled me forward, down the mountain toward heaven. And that’s when I saw them. Horses. An entire heard of wild Icelandic horses, grazing in the valley. The adult me froze in place while the little girl inside screamed with excitement. The adult me may have actually screamed too.

“Oh my god! Horses!”

I rushed forward into the valley, just yards away from the beautiful creatures, before slowing to a stop. I didn’t want to get too close. I didn’t want to scare them away. I stood back and watched. I honestly don’t know how much time passed, I was so lost in the moment. I wanted to capture it, to remember this point of absolute magic in my life. And so, being the modern photographer that I am, I pulled out my phone. I took one photo and then another. I moved closer and walked around the animals, all the while, they didn’t seem to notice or care about our presence. I took as many pictures as I could. This one ended up being my favorite.

It wasn’t until later, lying in the hut, feet throbbing from the day’s hike, face aching from smiling, that I realized everything that I had actually captured in this one image. The landscape, the reflections in the puddles, the receding storm. And the magnificent horses in the middle of it all. It was the perfect encapsulation of a dream come true. I had finally seen wild horses.

Back home now, the image is enlarged and printed on canvas, hanging in our home. It’s a reminder of our amazing trip, the trek of a lifetime, and that one, magical, dream-fulfilling encounter.