October: The Third Time was a Charm: Rounding up Sheep on Icelandic Horses

Chris Clawson Chasing Down Sheep

My aunt Chris Clawson and I share a love of horses and went on our first adventure to ride Icelandic Horses after I moved back to Seattle in 2019. We have Icelandic as well as Norwegian roots, and were able to connect with relatives still living in Húsavík during that trip. 

Icelandic Horses are descendants of small horses and ponies brought to Iceland by Viking settlers in the 9th and 10th centuries. They’ve been isolated from the rest of the world’s horses since importation was halted in 982, and developed into a uniquely smart, resilient, and strong-minded breed, much like Icelanders themselves.

Chris was keen to go back for Réttir, when local farms come together in September to herd sheep down from shared grazing areas in the highlands, drive them to central sorting pens, and separate their flocks. After having to cancel twice, this year we finally made it happen! 

We were joined by Chris's son Brock, his wife Kara, daughter Ares, and my husband Mark, turning it into a pretty epic family adventure.

To say this was a hands-on experience feels like a gross understatement. The first day, we saddled up and rode up the mountainside to gather sheep. Like the horses, Icelandic Sheep are well-adapted, sturdy beasts that, after a summer of wandering the highlands, resemble a “wild, dirty, ill-tempered mop.” They were spread out in small groups, hard to spot in the rough terrain, and not especially interested in going where we wanted them to go. 

Grabbing Life by the Horns

The horses were amazingly sure-footed, clambering up and down steep, rocky hillsides after the sheep like it was nothing. When I had to dismount, I quickly discovered just how challenging the terrain was. At one point, I took a step and my entire leg disappeared in a hole–I literally had to climb out on my hands and knees, while making sure not to lose my grip on the reins keeping Rex from heading home without me. We herded the sheep down to the barn where we got a crash-course in how to grab them by their horns and drag them into the right pen. That was the “easy” day.

The morning of day two, we rode to where we were to begin driving the sheep down the road toward the Réttir, the pen where the sorting was to take place the next day. In my mind, I envisioned this as mostly a matter of escorting the sheep down the road and keeping them together. In practice, it was six hours of chasing sheep across open land and herding them back to the road. Over and over. We didn’t have that many kilometers to go, but we rode over 20 miles. It was cold, wet, windy, and exhausting–truly the full Icelandic experience! 

Just About Time to Start Sorting!

Day three started out more like I expected on day two. We had to drive the sheep down the road to the Réttir, but there were fences on both sides of the road, so they couldn’t try to high-tail it to freedom. Getting to the sorting pen was a relief–despite the sleet, the wall to wall sheep made it blessedly warm! 

Chris and I mostly kept out of the way, but the rest of our crew was amazingly effective at grabbing sheep, checking tags, and wrestling them into the right pen. So much so that Ares and one of the guys in our group were featured in a video on the IamGlytja Facebook page!

I wish I had video of Chris chasing after wayward sheep with Isolde, giddy as a horse-crazy nine year old. Afterwards, as we were all bemoaning our various aches and pains, Chris piped up, “My sorest muscles are my smiling muscles!” 

I think we all came back feeling like, “OMG, we really did that!” Being part of a centuries-long tradition, experiencing a tiny bit of what life was like for my great-great-great grandfather, and sharing the experience with family was truly priceless. 

Full Disclaimer: We quite literally paid to work for three days. The hosts and guides were fantastic, but there was “No crying in Sheep Roundup”. You’re in it until the work is done. The horses were amazing…but they’re still horses, the terrain is tough, and predicaments happen. The weather is real. But there’s no other way to experience Réttir. Spectators are very much not welcome, people willing and able to help are. If it still sounds like fun, I highly recommend Nupshestar.

Credit to Justin Allan-Spencer’s article “In Praise of Icelandic Sheep” for the most-excellent description of Icelandic Sheep looking like a “wild, dirty, ill-tempered mop” at the end of summer. For sheep and not mops, they aren’t especially ill-tempered, but some were most definitely feisty. 

Deb Adair Tongue