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The Queen of Pace

Charlotte Cook is no ordinary Icelandic horse rider. She’s the reigning world champion in pace from 2017, but more importantly she has pioneered a unique and innovative riding style when it comes to riding pace on Icelandic horses. This unique style, together with her incredible achievements in various competitions throughout the years, has earned her the nickname “The Queen of Pace”. 

As a brit, born and raised in Denmark, Charlotte competed for the British national team during the World Championships in Oirschot 2017, where she won 1st prize in the category of Speedpass 100 meters. She rode the beautiful horse, Sæla frá Þóreyjarnúpi, owned by Stald Lysholm, which she now has been training in her unique pace riding style for several  years. The interest for Icelandic horses has been on the rise in the UK in the past few years and the results in 2017 were the best so far for the British national team, fuelling the interest for Icelandic horses even further. Growing up in Denmark, with a Danish mother and a British father, Charlotte has always felt as somewhat in-between a Dane and a Brit, and competing for the British national team was a very special way for her to pay tribute to her father and her British heritage.

To learn more about Charlotte and the philosophy behind her unique style, we visited her in northern Sjælland, Denmark, where she works as a veterinarian and runs the horse breeding farm Bakkeholm.

Charlotte has adapted her unique style from when she was riding big thorough bred race horses and her position on the horse makes her an exceptionally aerodynamic rider – providing a big advantage in windy conditions. Many see Charlotte’s approach as the future of riding competitive pace on Icelandic horses. During our visit to Bakkeholm, we captured a few clips of Charlotte’s pace riding style as you can see in the video below.

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“Star ride” across Iceland

Hermann spent most of the summer on horseback, riding across Iceland with 42 horses and a party of riders. Their route was the shape of a star and covered most of the country, they covered around 50 km per day on average. 

This past summer, Hermann Árnason, fertility technician and horse breeder in Hvolsvöllur, South Iceland, finalised his dream of becoming the first person to crisscross Iceland on horseback in the shape of a star. He set off with 42 horses and a party of riders on 27th June and returned from his journey on 19th August, riding for 45 days on horseback – with only a few rest days in between.

The idea of riding across Iceland in the shape of a star came to Hermann decades ago, while he was living in Vík í Mýrdal. Hermann considers himself fortunate to be abel to realise his dream of this arduous horse tour. In 2016, he took his entourage from Vík in the south, across the highlands and all the way to Hraun in North Iceland. The next step was to ride from coast to coast, from the northwest to the southeast.

In 2017, Hermann took a break from the “star ride” but completed it this summer. First, he rode from his home in Hvolsvöllur to Reykjanes in the southwest and then diagonally through the country’s interior to the easternmost tip of Langanes peninsula. Now it was time to complete the star by riding in a horizontal line, from East Iceland to the westernmost tip of Snæfellsnes peninsula. Hermann celebrated the milestone by taking a party of 17 riders to the white sand beaches on the peninsula’s southern coast – before driving the horses home.

Three riders accompanied Hermann the entire time. His wife, Sigríður Magnúsdóttir, rode with him a large part of the tour and friends and acquaintances came and left. “Usually, six people were riding at a time. It went extremely well and no horse went limp,” says Hermann in an interview with Horses of Iceland. He estimates that they averaged 50 km per day. The weather played along, too. It wasn’t particularly sunny or warm, but it didn’t rain much either.

Hermann trains his horses strategically for extended riding tours. “I start taking four-year-olds with me part of the summer but make sure that they don’t get too tired but only run along short distances to begin with. At five they can usually take more. This time I had four five-year-steeds which ran with the herd the entire tour, but I never rode them. At six, they are usually prepared for riding long distances. When they run so much that young, they develop extremely strong leg muscles.”

He takes special fodder with him on tour. “I have discovered that what travel horses lack mostly is salt, especially in warm weather.” In 2016, he teamed up with vet Grétar Hrafn Harðarson and fodder specialist Erlendur Jóhannsson at Fóðurblandan and together they developed special chow for travel horses with varied minerals and calcium chloride. Ferðaþokki contains 4% salts and Hermann feeds one kilo to his horses per day while on tour.

“Organising is the largest part of these trips,” says Hermann. “Rest days, shoeing, accommodation, food for the people… everything has to harmonise.” An SUV with a cart brought supplies to the riders and the necessary equipment. They spent most nights sleeping in huts and only one in tents.

At Gæsavötn, the most remote place they stopped at, he had to have the hay – which came from South Iceland – certified, because it crossed the sheep disease protection border.

In spite of a long and arduous journey, both people and horses enjoyed the ride – and the spectacular surroundings. For part of the tour, a few Swiss travellers tagged along. “They had the strongest experience. They thought it was remarkable to feel the strength of the Icelandic horse and that it was able to tölt every day, all legs of the journey.” The wide expanses also left an impression. According to Hermann, his four-legged friends were equally happy with the experience. “It’s amazing to observe how much they seem to enjoy it, too. At least they follow me wherever I go and I never have to worry that the loose horses stray away from the riders in front.”

After completing his “star ride”, gratitude is at the top of Hermann’s mind. “It’s an extraordinary feeling. First and foremost this incredible connection with nature and the horses. The abilities of this animal are mind-blowing and what it is prepared to do for you.” He’s also thankful for all helpful people whose paths he crossed, who offered the riders a bed for the night and the herd a green pasture. “It’s wonderful how many good people I’ve met.” How smoothly this great journey went also strengthened his faith of the Almighty. “It has undeniably made me even more certain of my belief in destiny, that I’m not on my own but that I’m under the guidance of guardian angels and helpers from beyond.”

One adventure leads to the next and two weeks after completing his “star ride”, Hermann travelled with his wife Sigríður and their hiking buddies from Fjallafélagið to Tanzania for a trek of Mount Kilimanjaro, Africa’s highest peak. But he’s not planning any future long-distance riding tours – for now, at least. “I promised myself and my family that this would be it. I’ve done so many things and satisfied my strongest hunger for adventure.” However, he will never stop going on horse tours. “I think I will travel more on my own, carry my own supplies and be dependent on no one.”

Text: Eygló Svala Arnarsdóttir. Photos: From Hermann's collection.

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The best Horse among Gods and Men

In Norse mythology, Sleipnir is the stallion of Óðinn, the highest of the gods. A magical creature with eight legs and runes on his teeth, Sleipnir is tougher and faster than all other horses, or “the best horse among gods and men”, as it says in Prose Edda. His name derives from the old Norse/Icelandic word sleipur, or “slippery”, meaning “The Runner”. 

The story of Sleipnir’s origin is rather curious, for he is the offspring of trickster god Loki, who turns himself into a mare, and a giant’s stallion called Svaðilfari (from the old Norse/Icelandic word svaðilför, meaning “Troublesome Traveller”).

Shortly after the gods settle in Ásgarður, a builder appears at their palace, Valhöll, offering to build a fortification in three seasons in exchange for the goddess Freyja, the sun and the moon. Tempted, yet not prepared to pay such a high price for a fortress, the gods agree on the condition that no man may help with the construction work. This way, the builder will never be able to finish on time, they believe. The builder asks permission to use his stallion Svaðilfari for work, and through Loki’s intervention, his request is approved. Svaðilfari proves to have enormous strength, pulling huge rocks, and a few days before the end of winter, the wall is almost finished. Furious with Loki for having given the builder permission, the gods order him to halt the construction by any means necessary. Prepared to do anything to appease the gods, Loki turns himself into a mare and gallops to the place where the builder is fetching rocks.

When Svaðilfari notices the mare, he becomes wild with lust, tears himself loose and chases after her into the woods. The builder loses precious time. Upon discovering that he is a hrímþurs, an evil giant, Þór, the god of thunder, smashes his head in with his hammer Mjölnir. Loki, as the mare, later gives birth to an eight-legged foal, the fruit of his encounter with Svaðilfari in the woods.

According to legend, once when Óðinn was riding across the sky, observing the state of the world as he regularly did, Sleipnir moved too close to the earth and stepped down with one of his legs. The ground collapsed under the weight of his hoof, creating the horseshoe-shaped canyon Ásbyrgi. The name means “Shelter for Gods” and Ásbyrgi is said to be a place where mythological creatures gather.

As in indication of how deeply ingrained Norse mythology is in Icelandic culture, Sleipnir, Svaðilfari and Loki are popular names for Icelandic horses and even of horse associations, as are many other names of the same origin, for example, Freyr, Hrímnir and Mjölnir.

Retold by Eygló Svala Arnarsdóttir. Photos by Gunnar Freyr Gunnarsson.

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Deacon of Dark River

One of the spookiest Icelandic ghost stories, Djákninn á Myrká, happens at Christmas and features a deacon and his horse Faxi. 

There once was a deacon who lived at the farm Myrká in Eyjafjörður, North Iceland. His name is not known but he was engaged to a woman by the name of Guðrún, who was a servant at the vicarage Bægisá, on the other side of the river Hörgá. The deacon had a gray horse with a thick mane he called Faxi, which he rode wherever he went.

Some time before Christmas, the deacon arrived at Bægisá, inviting Guðrún to join the festivities at Myrká on Christmas Eve. The deacon spent the night and when he bid Guðrún farewell the next morning, he said he would come pick her up on Christmas Eve in time for the celebrations.

The days before the deacon’s visit, heavy snow had fallen, the weather was frosty, and a thick layer of ice covered Hörgá river, which ran between the two farms. Then there was a sudden thaw and snow melt, causing the water level in Hörgá to rise considerably and the ice to break, making the river impassable. 

When the deacon rode back to Myrká, he didn’t take into consideration the sudden weather change and thought he could ride across Hörgá on the ice. But the river was no longer frozen and so the deacon rode up along the river until he found a spot which was still icy all the way to the other bank. The deacon rode onto the ice but mid-river the ice broke and he fell into the river.

The next morning, a farmer from Þúfnavellir, a neighbouring farm, saw a horse with a bridle and saddle outside his fence and recognised the deacon’s Faxi. This made him concerned because he had noticed the deacon ride to Bægisá the day before but hadn’t seen him return. The farmer approached Faxi, which was wet and shivering, and suspected the worst. He walked along Hörgá, looking for the deacon, an eventually found him dead on the riverbank.

The farmer went to Myrká to inform them of the tragic news. When they came to pick up the body, they noticed that the back of the deacon’s head was severely wounded, probably from a block of ice which had hit the deacon’s head after he had fallen into the river. The deacon was buried at Myrká the week before Christmas.

From the fateful day the deacon left Bægisá and until Christmas Eve, Hörgá had remained impassable due to continued thaw, and so no one could have informed Guðrún about the passing of her fiancé.

However, on Christmas Eve, the weather had turned calm and cool and Guðrún started looking forward to the party at Myrká.

In the afternoon, Guðrún started getting ready and was almost finished when she heard a knock on the door. Someone else answered but there was no one outside.

Darkness had fallen but the moon was full, casting an eerie glow on the landscape whenever there was a hole in the cloud cover. Guðrún told the girl who had answered the door that it was probably for her and that she would go outside. She grabbed her coat and, in a rush, only put on one of the sleeves but slung the other over her shoulder.

Outside, Guðrún saw Faxi in front of the door and a man standing next to the horse, whom she took to be the deacon. They didn’t speak but the man helped Guðrún up on Faxi’s back and then mounted the horse himself, sitting in front of her. 

They rode off and neither of them uttered a single word.

When they had almost reached Hörgá, they rode up a hill and when Faxi ran down the other side, the deacon’s hat lifted. At the same time, the moon broke through the clouds, lighting up the deacon’s naked skull. Then, he broke the silence:

“The moon glides, Death rides;

Can’t you see the white spot at the back of my head, Garún, Garún?”

Terrified, Guðrún realised that the deacon must surely be dead, because he could no longer say the first part of her name “Guð”, or “God”. “I see what is,” she responded and then fell silent again. When they arrived at Myrká, the deacon stopped outside the graveyard and said:

“Wait here, Garún, Garún, while I take Faxi, Faxi, away from the yard, yard.”

The deacon left with the horse and Guðrún looked into the graveyard. There, she noticed an open grave and became very frightened. She ran towards the church and grasped the bell chord. Suddenly, the deacon was back, grabbing her from behind, trying to pull her into the grave. Guðrún was lucky that she had been in such a rush to put on her coat, because the deacon grabbed hold of the loose sleeve and pulled so hard that he tore it off at the seams. The deacon fell backwards into the grave, still holding on to the torn sleeve, and the dirt was swept in from both sides.

Frantically, Guðrún ran the church bells until the people of Myrká came running. They took her inside the farm and told her what had happened to the deacon. That same night, after Guðrún was in bed and the lights had been turned off, the deacon’s ghost returned, tormenting Guðrún. Terrified, she screamed, waking everyone. The ghost disappeared but always returned after dark and Guðrún could never be left alone at night.

Eventually, a sorcerer from Skagafjörður in Northwest Iceland was called to Myrká. He ordered that a huge rock be dug up and moved to the farm.

In the evening, after darkness had fallen, the deacon arrived and tried to enter the farm. But the sorcerer started chanting, barring the deacon’s entrance, making the ghost retreat south of the farm and disappear into the ground. The sorcerer then rolled the rock on top and there, the deacon remains trapped till this day.

After this, there was no haunting at Myrká and Guðrún returned to Bægisá. However, she never fully recovered from the ordeal.

Retold by Eygló Svala Arnarsdóttir. Photos by Gunnar Freyr Gunnarsson.

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Of Horses and Elves

According to Icelandic folklore, elves, or “hidden people”, live in tussocks and boulders. They are tall and beautiful and on the inside, their homes look like palaces, filled with gold and glitter.

According to Icelandic folklore, elves, or “hidden people”, live in tussocks and boulders. They are tall and beautiful and on the inside, their homes look like palaces, filled with gold and glitter. They wear beautiful clothes and often appear on horseback. The hidden people resemble regular people and can easily trick them into believing that they’re human. Usually, they stay out of sight but on occasion they interact with people. Sometimes they are helpful but at other times wrathful. They tend to repay favours most generously but if they feel aggrieved by the actions of humans, they avenge themselves most cruel-heartedly. The elves also attempt to lure people away from their Christian ways and persuade them to come live with them in their hidden palaces.

This most commonly occurs on Christmas Eve, New Year’s Eve and Þrettándinn, the last day of Christmas on 6th January. While people attend mass at church, groups of elves break into their homes, have a feast and dance, and do their best to seduce the person who stays at home. Dazed by their beauty and tempted by delicious food, grandiose gifts and promises of a prosperous life in the elf kingdom, the elves are hard to resist. As soon as someone gives into temptation, that person is doomed. Therefore, people didn’t exactly line up for staying at home on these nights. However, someone had to watch over the house.

Some Icelandic folk tales include “gandreið”, which is when a spell is cast on a person and that person is ridden like a horse. In Hildur Álfadrottning (“Hildur the Elf Queen”), the protagonist is a cursed elf queen. She had to slave among humans and could only return to her family in the elf kingdom at Christmas. The only way for her do so was by gandreið and in the process, she was bound to kill the person she bridled. This fate fell upon the shepherds whom Hildur’s master hired to the farm where she worked as a housekeeper.

Hildur always volunteered to stay at home on Christmas Eve while everyone else went to mass. The shepherd also had to stay to watch over the sheep, because the church was too far away for him to make it back on time to complete his chores. However, the next morning, on Christmas Day, the shepherd was found dead in his bed without any explanation.

When this had happened year after year, no one wanted to work as a shepherd at the farm where Hildur lived anymore and her master didn’t want to hire anyone either because he feared that they might end up dead like the others. However, one brave man insisted on being hired to the farm and said he wasn’t worried about what had happened to the other shepherds.

On Christmas Eve, after the shepherd had retired to his room, Hildur appeared at his bedside and forced a bridle into his mouth. The man didn’t try to fight Hildur off but followed her outside, where she mounted him and made him ride off like a horse. When they came to a stop at a canyon, Hildur disappeared into its depths. The shepherd was able to untie himself and follow after Hildur into the elf kingdom. There, he watched her reunite with her husband, the king, and their children. He also learned of Hildur’s fate and that the curse prevented her from returning home apart from one night each year.

While trying to soothe one of her children, Hildur lost a ring and the shepherd picked it up. He then climbed out of the canyon and waited for Hildur, who rode him back to the farm. Exhausted, the shepherd collapsed into his bed and fell into a deep sleep. Miraculously, he was still alive when the farmer came to check on him the next morning. The shepherd told him what had happened and showed him the ring, proving that Hildur was an elf queen.

The shepherd had broken the curse. Hildur explained that her wicked mother-in-law had cursed her and that the only way to break the curse was if someone brave enough would follow her into the elf kingdom and bring back proof of her heritage. Hildur was regretful about all the shepherds who had died because of her and eternally grateful towards the man who had set her free. Hildur bid the humans farewell and returned to her kingdom. For the remainder of his life, the shepherd was graced by good luck and became a prosperous farmer.

Elves, along with other magical beings, often appear at bonfires which are held all around Iceland on New Year’s Eve and 6th January, the last day of Christmas. If you go to one of these bonfires, pay attention to the people around you. Are they all human, for sure? Or is that beautiful lady who’s sitting on a white horse at the edge of the forest perhaps an elf queen preparing to steal your heart?

Retold by Eygló Svala Arnarsdóttir. Photo by Ragnar Th.

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Every horse is unique, every horse has a character and it brings so much joy to be able to get to know them #horsesoficeland 📸 by @wildernessblood (at Iceland)

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Snow is all around, magical winter times ahead. Whether you are the city or in the countryside, enjoy your weekend everyone ! 😍 #horsesoficeland (at Hallgrímskirkja)

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Even if it's been a stormy weekend, Monday is a good hair day for the Icelandic horse. 😜#horsesoficeland (at Iceland)

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Knowing your neighborhood - the Horses of Iceland edition. When you live in a certain area of a city or countryside you develop a sense of orientation in the neighborhood. You start having your favorite places, streets, corner shops, cafes or cosy little spots you long to come back to. You start knowing your surroundings quite well. Now imagine how that works for Horses of Iceland? With all the vast landscape, valleys stretching over the horizon, river streams shaping what's around them, and the Icelandic weather so impactful on the everyday basis and over the seasons. Horses here in Iceland live a life in the outdoors all year round, to maintain their strong character. They run and roam in the nature, further than any human could reach. They make the land here their one big neighborhood. How beautiful is that! 🇮🇸🐴❤️ #horsesoficeland (at Hólar)

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We can't imagine a better company than Horses of Iceland to enjoy a vast and stunning view like that #horsesoficeland 🇮🇸 The ultimate freedom 🐴👩❤️ 📸by @heidisland (at Iceland)

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Through the centuries, the horses of Iceland have been an indispensable companion of the Icelanders. They have served countless purposes - many of which remain highly relevant to this day today, including helping farmers gather their sheep from the highlands - crossing terrain that often only is accessible by horseback. #horsesoficeland (at Iceland)

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Hey! Are you framing me ? asked the horse 🐴 😂#horsesoficeland 📸 by @swetans (at Iceland)

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Here's a little teaser from the incredible Laufskálarétt. More to come shortly. #horsesoficeland #iceland (at Laufskálarétt, Skagafirði)

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For many Icelanders, The Horse Corral "Laufskálarétt" is simply unmissable. Starting on September 29th, it's a whole weekend of activities and a celebration of the unique Icelandic Horse. Find out more about the Icelandic Horse at our website - see link in bio. #Horsesoficeland (at Hólar)

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Horses of Iceland have many facets from a friendly play companion to hardworking helper to a muse of an artist, to name a few. The incredible character and looks of the horse can inspire in many ways and we @horsesoficeland truly love to see those beautiful captures of Horses of Iceland shared in the world today. Stunning image by @linakayser #horsesoficeland (at Iceland)

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We recently ventured out on a horse riding journey with our friends from @ishestarriding - experiencing their popular Lava Tour. We rode through the incredible Icelandic scenery, amongst lava fields, lupines, trees and good company. It's was an amazing journey and our horse, called Emma, was both calm and willing, just the kind of horse we like when taking photos from horseback. 😊 @ishestarriding is one of the pioneers within Icelandic horse tours in Iceland - and has set a great example by preparing the guidelines for how horse tour operators should treat their horses - ensuring the wellbeing of these precious animals. In return, the happy horses reward us with an unforgettable experience. Thanks @ishestarriding for a wonderful journey! For those of you who are interested, @ishestarriding is having a contest where you can win a multiday trip for two - head over to their facebook page for further info. #horsesoficeland (at Íshestar horseback riding tours in Iceland)

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Hello there! Did you know that horses of grow thicker coat to stay warm and strong during the winter months? One could say that they are invincible when it comes to a harsh climate :) 🇮🇸🐴💪#horsesoficeland 📸by @lofothest (at Iceland)