Lost on Breiðdalsheiði

Lost on Breiðdalsheiði

Árni Bjarnason from Borg in Skriðdal lived at Hátún in the same district for fourteen years. It was during the winter of 1952 that Árni needed to travel south to Breiðdal to retrieve a radio device belonging to his sister-in-law, Kristín. It was quite a large device with an integrated battery—a considerable burden to carry. Little did he imagine that this journey would turn out to be as difficult and memorable as it ultimately became.

Árni set off from Hátún after midday, taking the shortest route since he knew it well. The path led through Hátúnadal and south over Múli, which is roughly 600 meters in elevation. His journey then continued across highlands of a similar altitude to Múli. There was a great deal of snow, but the traveling conditions were good.

Nothing more is said of his journey until he reached Þorgrímsstaðir in Breiðdal that evening, where he was warmly received—the household was known for its hospitality. When Árni inquired about the aforementioned device, it turned out to be at Höskuldsstaðasel, which was quite a distance from the main farm.

After enjoying good food and resting at Þorgrímsstaðir, Árni went out that evening to fetch the device from Höskuldsstaðasel and returned to Þorgrímsstaðir to spend the night.

The next morning was dark and snowy, but Árni still prepared for his journey. Benedikt Hjartarson of Þorgrímsstaðir, a cautious and weather-wise man, strongly advised against leaving, as the weather outlook seemed uncertain. Árni, however, was not deterred and likely thought to himself—or even said aloud: "I want to go home." He set off for Breiðdalsheiði with the device on his back.

Nothing more is mentioned until he reached a place called Þröng, a lower ridge on the southern side of the highlands. By then, a heavy snowstorm had set in—calm but pitch-dark. On a flat area called Tjarnarflöt, the path takes an almost right-angle turn, making it very dangerous in poor visibility. Árni aimed to navigate toward Tjarnarás on the highlands. Without landmarks to guide him and nothing visible ahead, he walked for what seemed long enough to have reached Tjarnarás but soon realized that he had lost his bearings—he was lost. The snowfall continued, now knee-deep, and when he tried to retrace his steps, his tracks had already disappeared. He kept moving, unsure of his direction, with the relentless snowfall surrounding him. Eventually, he stopped, realizing how dire his situation had become.

When Árni had set off from home the day before, he had locked up his dog, Bobbi, but the dog had managed to escape and caught up with him quickly. Bobbi had followed him all the way so far. Now, as Árni stood lost, exhausted, and weary, he instinctively patted Bobbi and spoke to him as if he were a person, telling him that now he would have to lead the way home. It seemed as if Bobbi understood what needed to be done. Árni patted him and said, "Now we're going home, and you will go ahead."

Bobbi immediately set off, taking a completely different direction from where Árni had previously walked. Árni followed Bobbi’s tracks, but the darkness was so thick that he couldn’t always see him and feared losing sight of him. Occasionally, he would call out, but Bobbi never returned—he only barked now and then from ahead. They continued like this for a long time until they reached a small ravine. Bobbi went down into the ravine, but Árni decided it would be better to walk along the right-hand side. He called out to Bobbi.

Bobbi was reluctant to leave the ravine but eventually did so. However, now he refused to lead anymore. Árni continued along the ravine, which turned out to be a good choice. He had no idea where he was until he reached level ground again, where it was slightly brighter. They had come across Forvöðará in a continuous valley and followed it down to Víðigróf. Realizing where he was, Árni thanked Providence for how well things had turned out on this difficult journey. Feeling like a completely new man, he patted his faithful dog Bobbi and continued slowly out of the valley. Now, hunger and exhaustion set in—he hadn’t eaten all day, and night was falling. He continued through the valley and reached Vatnsskogar. Needless to say, he received a warm welcome and lodging for the night. However, he felt quite chilled that evening.

The next morning, a northeast blizzard and frost had set in, but visibility was good. Árni stopped in Hjarðarhlíð to visit his brother Bergþór, rested there for a while, and then Bergþór accompanied him up to Hálsamót—a small pass on Múli between Norðurdalur and Suðurdalur. From there, it was a short way down the mountain and back home to Hátún.

From: Frá torfbæ til tölvualdar á 50 árum by Stefán Bjarnason of Flaga, Egilsstaðir, 1990.

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