Warm water was obsolete, sunshine was a memory left in a rainy haze, and dry wetsuits were an unspoken dream. This trip was not about comfort or serenity, more like endurance and extremity. It was about braving conditions that would help dignify our ego. It was about the cold, it was about Iceland.
For a few months we had been eager to do a proper cold-water mission. We always brave the storm and yes, we climb out of the comfort zone. But riding in sub-zero water temperatures with gale storms above our heads felt like the new order. The idea was to head
