Kate Shaw and Kerstin Ulf have been speed-dialing Icelandair since Saturday morning when we arrived in Reykjavík, Iceland. It’s Tuesday and their ski bags still haven’t appeared. Fearing they may not show before our scheduled departure for a trip aboard a sailboat in the Westfjords, in the remote northwest corner of the country, we started searching for replacement skis. 

First, we tried the Icelandic version of Craigslist, but came up empty-handed. Next, we tried the most well-respected outdoor store in Reykjavík, but it was closed. Then, on the way back from dinner, we walked by an alleyway where, barely visible, we spotted two pairs of skis. Darcee Mond—another friend in our group of seven women hailing from Tahoe, Utah and Colorado—ran over, exclaiming, “They have tech bindings!” 

It was as if the heavens parted and sent a gift straight from Ullr: two pairs of well-loved skis mounted with Dynafits. Better yet, they were sitting next to a trash can. I started laughing. Kerstin took photos. Darcee began rationalizing why these skis belonged to us. Then, a curtain peeled back inside the closest apartment. A man peered out. “What are you doing?” he asked…

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