I Got Stuck in a River in Iceland!
Iceland is beautiful, even when you’re looking at it through the window of a bus slowly filling with water in the middle of a river.
This is one of those stories that sounds wildly exciting, but in fact involved being chilly and very wet and having to wait a long time while crouched on the seats of a bus. I mean, it was exciting, in that we were stuck in a river and getting to the other side was no simple feat.
We were rescued, no one was hurt (very much) and we got almost all of our waterlogged possessions back. The most interesting part of the experience, from my point of view, was the wide variation in reaction by the… victims?
We all had different experiences on that bus - some of us forded the river, some of that subset had a terrible experience getting pulled into the current. Some of us were more involved in trying to come up with solutions. Some of us tried to stay out of the way.
One of us behaved badly, because as sure as a teenage girl will run into the basement in a horror movie, one seemingly chill super-hiker will go apeshit and shove everyone out of the way in order to save himself, George Costanza-style.
The next day, several of the people who had stayed pretty calm and praised our trip leader’s actions were suddenly super duper p.o.’d. And self-righteous AF. And clamoring for a full refund! And an apology! And a promise that nothing like this will ever happen again! Not that some of that wasn’t warranted, but it brought up an interesting conundrum.
You sign up to be taken hiking in the wilds of Iceland because it sounds like an adventure. You are told, repeatedly, that the weather in Iceland is unpredictable, and care should be taken to follow all safety suggestions. But if the weather has an off day and that adventure gets a little sticky, what’s your reaction?
It’s a valid question, now that people pay other people vast sums to haul them up Everest and take them on sightseeing tours of the Titanic.
We live in an era of blurred lines and privilege.
In the US, particularly if you’re unfortunate enough to live in a disaster-prone section of a southern state, you’ve likely experienced some sort of wretched natural disaster.
And chances are you suffered because your local government neglected safety protocols for way too long. And my guess is that an indignant demand for full compensation, should you make it, will fall on deaf ears.
But if you can afford a trip that costs thousands in order to see the highlights of a wild and unpredictable country, that same request will garner you - what? It remains to be seen. But not nothing.
I agree that the company that provided our equipment should have given us a sturdier vehicle, not to mention a flipping radio. And I know that driving through the wilds of Iceland is potentially going to lead to some unforeseen situations. I was not surprised by the post-traumatic ire directed at the tour company. What shocked me was the indignation.
How dare you let me put myself into a situation that involved risk without 100% mitigating every possible instance of peril?
I can’t speak for anyone else. I only know how I feel. Which is fortunate to have been rescued from a potentially dangerous situation. I’ve got a story to tell, and I got to skip the last day of hiking. Honestly, I was pretty hiked-out by that time.
I wonder if this experience will change the way other people on that trip make plans? Will they choose slightly less dramatic locations for their next adventure? Or continue to demand excitement with zero risk? Because you can’t really have it both ways.
Speaking of risk, I flew home without a mask like an absolute dummy and got a nasty case of Covid - my first. I had no one to blame but myself. Which, honestly, I prefer; it’s so easy to get caught up in a blamestorm and forget that every time we walk out the door we’re saying hello to a world full of both danger and delight.