Iceland Trip Part 5 - More Off-Road Adventures
The morning greeted us with some of the most ominous skies we’d seen so far in Iceland.
The forecast for the north was for periods of heavy rain. Fortunately, we were heading south.
Our plan for this leg of the trip took us on F35 from the Ring Road (1) in the north through the highlands until we hit pavement in the south, with a couple of day stopover at Kerlingarfjöll.
It didn’t take very long for the highlands to seem like a moonscape.
As we drove mile after mile (or should I say kilometer after kilometer) we started to wonder how anything could live there.
Still, it had a certain beauty, especially when the light started playing with the landscape.
And, indeed, people lived out there. We saw a sign for a coffee shop, so we had to pull over and check it out.
It turned out to be a farm operation that also had lodging for hikers, bicyclists, and other travelers, which is why there was a cafe. The coffee was good and the Happy Marriage Cake was superb. I told the operators they should name the cafe, “The Middle of Nowhere Café.” After explaining it was a common expression in the US for a place like that, they said they liked it. It would have been appropriate.
After our short break we were off again. Unfortunately, not long after I made the shot below, the road conditions turned horrible and we were bouncing along roughly and slowly for quite some time.
Eventually we turned off at Hveravellir, a geothermal area not too far from Kerlingarfjöll.
It gave us a break from the bumpy road and a good chance to stretch our legs and make some pictures.
We spent about an hour walking around and enjoying the beauty of the pools and the greater landscape.
And, as you can see, the sun. The weather was in our favor for now.
We came across this sign and couldn’t quite figure out whether it was saying that it’s prohibited to stack cannon balls or prohibited to build cairns. I think it’s cannon balls. Iceland doesn’t have an army and I expect they don’t want to encourage folks to think it’s a good idea.
After we had lunch, we were back on the road.
Note the glacier below - that’s the one not too far from Kerlingarfjöll and on the opposite side of the plain from the other glacier photos.
Unfortunately, F35 turned nasty again, so I didn’t make any more pictures until we reached Kerlingarfjöll. Unlike other highland locations, it is a mix of resort, cabins and campers (vehicle and tent), not to mention having its own bus service to Reykjavik.
We had made reservations for our spot, so we didn’t have to worry about where we would spend the next couple of nights.
After checking in and settling down, we went exploring. Several trails run from the hotel complex as well as a road to the main geothermal area. Unfortunately, a ranger advised (wrongly I’ve concluded) against driving a vehicle as large as the bimobil to the geothermal area, so we had to rethink our plans.
We decided to scout the area and headed over one hill to see if we wanted to photograph along the river farther below. Given the distance we would have had to hike to get there (the road you can see in the picture below was blocked by a locked access gate - park personnel only) we opted not to go in that direction.
Instead, we headed up the river that ran by our campsite.
There were a few interesting locations there . . .
. . . that we thought it would be worth revisiting.
Downstream from the campsite was less interesting, but still worth exploring.
The next day’s forecast was mixed, so we got out early to photograph before the rains came, visiting the near-by area we’d explored the day before.
With tripods in hand, we could take our time to carefully compose images and appreciate the details of the landscape.
And while I ended the session with a broader landscape, you can see why we opted for the detail approach. Unfortunately, the rains and fog came while we were having lunch and there was little to do in the way of photography for the rest of the day.
The forecast for the next day was no rain and clearing skies. Since driving to Hveradalir was not advised, I’d decided to do the hike there and back. I’d been taking care of my knee and it seemed ok. Ann said she’d rather stay in the area and make some more photographs, but encouraged me to go on my own . . . if I was careful. I decided not to tempt fate so I took a minimum of camera gear and decided to rely primarily on my phone and point-and-shoot. Definitely no tripod. A light backpack with some water and food as well as trekking poles would be the order of the day.
That morning presented me with dense fog. No problem, I only need to see the trail right in front of me and if I couldn’t figure out where it goes, I’d head back. Half way up the first hill, I turned around to photograph the resort, barely visible through the fog.
Once on top of that first slope, it was a long gentle climb on a very wide rock ridge. Periodically, the fog would thin and I’d see mysterious forms to my right or left.
Suddenly I came across a solitary boulder with a lovely little flower at its base. It was definitely very out of place given the location.
I kept a steady, even pace, appreciating the cool, brisk air in my lungs and the steady pace keeping me warm. Eventually the sun started peaking through the fog, hinting at the beauty that I knew had to be all around me.
And for about half an hour it would break suddenly, and almost as quickly as I’d pull out my camera and make an image, the fog would settle back in.
I finally hit a fork where another trail joined-up. I stopped to check my map and headed onward and upwards.
Although it was August (August 19th to be precise), there was still last year’s snow on the ground. I doubt it melted before this year’s first snowfall.
The worst part was that all too often after a long climb, there would be a decent, only to have to climb again.
So it turned into down and up, and up and down type of hike, though more up than down.
At one point, the trail required scrambling down some boulders, and then up an icepack. And yes, I wondered whether it would collapse given the ice cave below.
It seemed that each time I had to hike up, fog awaited me at the top, only to drift away as I approached.
And then suddenly, I’d reached my destination. The ranger had recommended going counter-clockwise if we decided to hike up there because the trail in the clockwise direction was in poor condition and consisted of extremely muddy clay from the unusual amount of rain they’d been getting.
So I headed clockwise, until I hit some boulders and a steep drop and couldn’t tell where the trail was located. I scouted around a bit and could see where the trail exited the ravine at the bottom, but I couldn’t see a way down or any markers showing a safe way down.
Remembering my promise to Ann about not taking any risks, I back-tracked and decided to take the muddy route.
I took my time because I was not in any rush now that I was at my destination.
The clouds were still playing with the landscape, and every few hundred feet offered new views.
It was interesting to see the different geothermal plumes coming from the opposite hillside.
And the brilliant colors that would appear whenever the sun broke through (and the die down as the clouds rolled back in).
I eventually got to the end of the ridge before the long descent. Looking down into the floor of Hvenadalir, I realized that, once again, I’d have to be hiking up that ridge to get back to camp.
I decided I was going to appreciate the view for a moment, . . .
. . . and took one last shot of where I’d come from. Then I headed down one of the scariest, slipperiest slopes I’d ever encountered. Thank goodness for the trekking poles.
Once at the bottom, I found a nice bench by a stream and decided it was time for lunch!
I started wandering around the valley floor, checking out each side trail I could (and opting not to go on any path that led upward).
The features were interesting and yes, it smelled like rotten eggs the whole time.
The water is hot and, at one point, I saw a guide pull out a giant pole and a pot wrapped in aluminum foil that had been sitting in the stream. He turned to the family he was guiding and said, “I told you - Hot Lunch!”
The climb up kicked my butt.
I mean, really kicked my butt. But the breather stops had quite the view.
The parking lot was not full at all (and nowhere did I see anything that led me to believe that the bimobil in 4wd would not have been just fine! Damn ranger!), and I kept turning around to enjoy the view as I hiked back towards camp.
The landscape, with its mountains and snow and fog, was simply beautiful.
In time I could eventually see the areas to the north (my right) with the flat plains stretching to forever.
But the most interesting views were to the left, towards the mountains.
And the elevated views of the glacier to the west (Langjökull) was even more impressive than from down low.
As I made my way downward, the landscape kept changing and suddenly a tear in the ground appeared.
As I approached it (taking the detour trail for a better look), you could see the river running far down below.
Just past the canyon, an oxbow appeared.
After after a bit more up and down, I finally got a glimpse of . . . the bimobil!.
It still took me a nearly an hour to get home, but I made it. Sure, I was a bit sore, but nothing that a good dinner at the restaurant and an Advil couldn’t cure.
It had been awhile since I’d done a hike like that. I don’t suspect I’ll be doing too many more of them either given I’m not getting any younger. Still, I’m glad I did it.
The next morning we headed off, on our way to Reykjavik.
We stopped at one point by a river with a good view of the glacier. I also had a chat with a couple of hunters who were zeroing their rifle by shooting upstream (hey, it’s Iceland, what do I know?).
The rest of the drive to Reykjavik was uneventful. We decided not to stop at a couple of potential stops due to the large crowds there (any place with 10 or more busses parked in the parking lot was a tell-tale sign for us as a place to bypass), and settled into our campsite near Keflavik airport to get ready for the next stage of our trip.
Next up, our adventures with John and Judy, which has an unlucky/lucky beginning.