"I was thinking about your motorcycle," the lanky truck driver with glacier-blue eyes says, leaning across my table at a roadside diner in Hveragerdi, in southwest Iceland. Outside, the wind howls, rain lashing at the windows. "You aren't planning to go to the north, are you? There's an early winter storm coming. When that happened last year, they were still digging out sheep months later." ... [continue reading here]