The day we set out toward the Snæfellsnes Peninsula was sunny and beautiful, and we expected an easy three-hour drive to our destination. Not an hour into the trip we found ourselves in an icy-road-blinding-white snowstorm. We drove on, both silently terrified; there was a significant drop off on both sides, no guard rail, buses passing us at high speeds, etc. We couldn't pull over (there was no shoulder), we couldn't turn around, and we didn't know where we were going -- we just had to keep driving. After what seemed like hours but could not have been more than ten minutes, the winter wonderland disappeared and we stopped at the next sign of life (a desolate shark-fishing museum) to figure out where we went wrong. Attempting to avoid driving back through the snows, we detoured to a gravel road for the next five hours. Bumpy riding aside, taking that gravel road was the best decision we ever made. It wrapped around mountains, took us to cliffs overlooking the ocean, through small seaside towns and by so many ponies.