It must have been like watching a car crash about to happen. From the other side of the falls, there was nothing Thomas could do but watch in terror as his precious Bag slid off the icy cliff into the frigid, rushing waters below.
I went to Iceland in October (beautiful country!), and of course used my simple backpack, large tobacco, and utility duffel, medium tobacco. I stopped at the waterfall Kolugljufur (to pronounce, just roll some consonants around the back of your throat). I was taking some of those scenic-type pictures of the backpack with my man camera (iphone 6), when tragedy struck.
The bag began a slow and inexorable slide off the icy ledge and into the rapidly running river below. Setting up the camera, I was too far away to do anything but watch. There may have been cursing, and perhaps a plea for divine intervention.
Grief-struck and inconsolable, I retained the presence of mind to inch along the ledge so I did not meet a similar icy fate. As the bag had fallen into the river just below a waterfall, at the top of a canyon, if the bag had been swept along, it was almost certainly lost beyond finding. I was relieved to see the bag had become stuck in an eddy, and was floating placidly next to some icy rocks. (Like a boss!)
Naturally, I had to get my bag back. So I climbed down the icy cliff, being sprayed by the waterfall, inched along the icy rock on my stomach, retrieved the bag (still floating some 15-20 minutes later!), threw it to safety, and climbed back up.
Since I was alone in the countryside, it was below freezing, and falling into the river and being swept into the canyon would have been….exciting…this is not a story I have told my mother.
Thanks for making bags that can survive a beating!
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