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“Matt Wilson, you want energy before Mountain Hut?” Siggi said to me in his thick Icelandic accent.   Hvolsvollur, Iceland March 2012 “Sure Siggi,” I said.  “I’m pretty hungry.”   Siggi dug into his mom’s refrigerator and pulled out a heaping plate of leftovers.  Mashed potatoes, gravy, and a tender red meat I’d never had before… “Siggi, this is delicious, what is this?” I asked. He glanced down at my plate to make sure I was done… “It’s horse, of course!” he said with a chuckle… Welcome to Iceland We were on our way to Siggi’s Mountain Hut deep in the interior of Iceland.  I wish I could describe this place, but it’s hard to put it to words.   Most people say Iceland looks like the surface of the moon.  Black lava rocks, dense rolling fog coming in off the North Atlantic, and permanently ominous skies.  Just driving down the road, you’ll find waterfall after waterfall coming off the fjords.  Dive deeper into the interior and you’ll find hidden canyons and geothermal steam rising from the ground.  All of this