#Trek-Iceland*: my Ultimate gear Guide

 The Jetboil is one of those pieces of kit that feels like cheating. Not because it’s fancy, but because it boils water before you’ve even found a flat rock to sit on. Think of it less as a stove and more as your trail-side kettle, treat it right, and it’ll deliver.

Everything nests together neatly inside the cup: burner, stabilizer, lid, and even a small gas canister. Lock it down, snap the lid, and nothing rattles loose in your pack. When it’s time, you just screw on the gas (isobutane-propane canister), hit the igniter, and decide if you’re in the mood for noodles, tea, or the questionable instant coffee that will haunt your Jetboil forever.

Safety note: don’t bring those gas canisters on the plane: airport security takes issue with explosives in your carry-on (who knew?). Luckily, Iceland’s supermarkets and gas stations stock them everywhere, so you won’t be left cold or caffeine-deprived when you land.

JETBOIL SURVIVAL MENU (what actually works in the thing):

• Instant Coffee – It works, but once you do it, your Jetboil will taste like Folgers or Timmies forever. No amount of boiling will exorcise it. 
• $0.79 Noodles – Smash them up, toss in the MSG packet, and you’re suddenly a mountain-side ramen baron. Cheap, dirty, effective.
• Tea Egg Trick – Fill one with loose tea, dunk it in, and you’ve got a clean brew. Just remember to wash it out right away, or tomorrow’s “water” will taste like bitter Earl Grey.
   

Rule of thumb: everything works once, if you don’t scrub it right after, the Jetboil becomes a time capsule of culinary mistakes.

It won’t win any Michelin stars, but a Jetboil knows how to boil, and sometimes that’s all you really need. Just don’t mistake it for a backcountry gourmet setup, I learned the hard way that baked beans will turn it into a crime scene. My coffee the next morning tasted like donkey butt. Still drank it, of course. That’s the dirtbag contract: you don’t waste caffeine just because it tastes like punishment.

That said,I decided against taking another piece of kit. These days, I throw a bowl and a sturdy spoon from home into my bag, then pick up granola, shelf-stable full-fat milk, and a couple packs of bitafiskur once I land. Morning sorted: carbs for the walk, and when I crush 200 grams of dried cod, I don’t just feel like I ate half the Atlantic, I know I’ve just downed 98% protein. Recovery imminent.

At $18 a bag it stings, but it’s worth every penny. I know Americans (plus the state of Canada) love their beef jerky, but give bitafiskur a try. Go without sugar for a while and you’ll realize how often you crave it, dried cod won’t cure that itch, but it’ll fuel you longer than you’d like to admit.

Where the Jetboil shines is speed and simplicity. Need boiling water for freeze-dried food at 11 p.m. after a 12-hour hike? Done. Want tea in 30 mph winds? Done. It’s not a chef’s tool, it’s a survivor’s kettle. And if you play by its rules, keep it simple, keep it clean. The Jetboil will keep you alive, caffeinated, and only occasionally humiliated.