Iceland
Iceland is one of the most beautiful natural places I’ve ever seen. The contrasts of the landscapes and weather were so rich and stimulating that I didn’t want to close my eyes the entire week we were there. This, of course, was aided by the fact that it never got completely dark at night. “Sunset” was after 11 pm and “sunrise” was around 3 am, but those few hours of darkness were dusty-blue at most.
Race day (and the 36 hours prior) offered some really gentle weather. Nice temps, breaks of brilliant sunshine, and really mild winds. But our first two days there, the winds were blowing so hard it was challenging to stand up straight and the chilly mist was pervasive. I shuddered to think of how hard I’d have to fight those headwinds in the second half of the race to come - in pre-ride, my uphill speeds (tailwind) were the same as my downhill speeds (headwind).
I think to live here, you’ve got to have a body made of iron but a heart made of cuddles. I think you’d need to be physically strong enough to withstand some of the harshest weather Earth can throw at you, but soft enough inside to appreciate the beauty of every season and every community connection you can make. Only a special kind of person could remain unhardened up here, I think.
In the days before the race, Lespy and I frequented the community center to use the gym, sauna, and outdoor pool. I loved seeing all the families enjoying the pool and water slides in 13 degrees and persistent mist. The sauna, too, was quite the experience. I’ll leave it at that.
The Race
The professional race at The Rift is 194km and 2800m of climbing, across an incredibly varied mix of terrain. Chunky lava fields, sand flows, snow, ice, and some fast hard-pack made up the surfaces. We climbed the shores of a volcano (Hekla) and crossed around 10 rivers. Some shallow, some deep. The variety of the terrain required everyone to access all the tools in the bike riding kit, and certainly rewarded off-road skills and experience.
The race started with a very relaxed neutral roll out, and the first surge was before the water crossings 15km in. It settled before getting spicy again at about 25km in. Rosa was surging the pace on all the little climbs, which forced the crucial split at about 40km into the day. I made this selection but wasn’t perfectly positioned, and was gapped off by a crash in front of me. I didn't have the strength to close the gap; Rosa looked back, saw us on the ground, and amped the pace up. I could see the three riders in front for SO long but only came within 8 seconds of reconnection before I crashed so, SO hard in a sort of ditch thing that crossed the road. I have never hit the ground so hard/abruptly. It jammed my shifter lever so that the brake was fully pulled, and it took me a minute to sort that out. I was a bit discombobulated, but hadn't hit my head and had no protruding bones, so kept going. Took me a bit to shake it off.
I chased solo for nearly two hours before finally catching Erica and Morgan. In that time, I lost count of all the steep punches and surprising terrain. At one point, I rode/scootered across 200m of hardback snow and ice! When we made the turn to come back south and up the shores of Hekla (the volcano), some of the people we were passing told us Rosa was just up ahead. Erica fishtailed in the sand, which caused Morgan to go down and take me with her. We stayed calm and chased back, heading into the main climb. Erica attacked, got away, but Morgan and I caught Rosa. Rosa decided to pull out shortly after because she had hit her head - a smart move that no one ever regrets in the long run.
Morgan and I continued together until I sent this pretty gnarly descent and pulled away. Picture an off-cambre, deeply rutted sandy descent down the side of a volcano at 45km/hr: big rubber was a massive advantage (as was experience racing down the slopes of Les Gets, Val di Sole, and Vallnord). Over the next 30 minutes, I slowly caught Erica. We rode together for a while before I made my move into the rough stuff 150km in, where I knew I had both a technical and mechanical advantage because of my tire choice and MTB background. I opened up a small gap that I decided to commit to. I had 40km of headwind left, but I knew the climbing was mostly done. I just committed to pushing with everything I had left. The last 8km were on pavement into a brick headwind, which felt SO hard, but looking back, I was only pushing 200W at this point. I think we were all a little cooked! Crossing the finish line was a happy and relieving moment. I’m very proud of and grateful for that ride.
That moment of commitment is what I’m most proud of. It’s hard to find the courage to send it like that. Going solo takes some self-belief and trust, but more than that, it takes a willingness to accept that it might not work. You might get caught. You might blow up. In essence, you have to be willing to truly risk failure - and that’s a hard place to force yourself to go to. More than the win, that’s the success I’m basking in: challenging myself to seize the opportunity and put it on the line.
Fingers crossed I’ll be able to make it back to this one next year. It’s a race that suits my skillset, and now that I have a little course knowledge, I’m already scheming of ways to do it better in 2027.
Bike Notes
Yes, you’ve all been asking me about my bike. Tough luck, pals. I’m only going to talk about components here.
As you may have seen on Instagram, I chose to run the Vittoria Terreno XC Race tire in 2.25. This was money. The compound is super supple but still very puncture resistant, and I was able to float through the sand and over the lava rocks with no problems. Okay, yeah, some of that is skill - but the rubber did me a solid. As always, I had Stan’s Race Day sealant in my tires. Yes, it makes a difference. I’ve had Stan’s race-specific sealant plug a 5mm hole WITHOUT a tire plug in an XCO race before. I trust it with my livelihood.
I almost always run SPD pedals on my road shoes at events like this, which was another good move. Fully locked in, but resilient to the volcanic sand and silt that would clog up a road pedal. Again, I always run the Wove Mags saddle. It’s incredibly light, but the real reason is that I never have saddle issues or discomfort. I can’t believe it took me 15 years in the sport to find a saddle that didn’t make me hate my life the day after a 7+ hour ride/race.
I did have a couple of small mechanical issues, both caused by crashes. One was the “Pidcock Problem” (jammed shifter). I actually don’t think I would have understood what was going on if I hadn’t followed the Tour coverage last week, but because I had, I knew that there were likely some small rocks jammed in the lever mech. I opted to sacrifice a small amount of my drink mix to spray-clean it out (which was a weighty choice given we had no supported feed zones out there, and refueling would require a full-on stop in the FZ). Anyways, it worked, and provided yet another reason why it’s important to watch and learn from other bike races.
I always use my Wahoo ELMNT Roam in these races for the bigger screen and ease of navigation. I also made good use of the bell button, which seemed to cut through the wind better than my voice did to announce passes (and provided some levity). As always, I had Enduro Bearings upgrades throughout my bike. We’ll check them when we get home because of the many impromptu baths my bike and I took, but I suspect they’ll still be spinning like new.
Kit choices were a big topic of conversation this week, as well. We had temps ranging from 6-16 degrees C throughout the day, with mostly dry weather but a guarantee of getting submerged in glacial river crossings. I wore my hydration speed suit (with a 2L bladder of First Endurance EFS Pro High Carb) in it, thermal arm warmers, my thermal vest (controversial choice, but I think it was the right one), aero gloves, and aero shoe covers. I never once thought about my temperature, so I must have made the right choices.
Next up is Downieville Classic (MTB! MTB! MTB!), before I’ll take a little break from racing to complete the first set of my PhD Comprehensive Exams. This means no Leadville for me, and instead a few weeks of training, writing, and reading. The next big one back will be Canadian Marathon MTB Nationals in September.
Published through Haley Hunter Smith's newsletter on July 21, 2026. Haley is a Rex-supported athlete. Subscribe to her newsletter at haleyhuntersmith.com.