So it begins

Skaftafell National Park

Published Date : June 21, 2013

I was up early to make the 1-hour drive to the Skaftafell visitor centre.  Along the way, I stopped briefly to revisit Jökulsárlón without all the tourists.  It was quiet and very peaceful in the early morning.  There were a few campers around, but the place was all but deserted.

Continuing on to Skaftafell, I checked out the bus schedules when I arrived, but didn’t see the route to Laki listed.  When a Reykjavik Excursions bus pulled up a few minutes later I asked the driver about the trip.  He wasn’t sure if it was running yet, so he called the office to double check.  Alas, I was a day too early.  Because of a cold spring and late thaw, the roads weren’t completely open yet.  They had been hoping to make the first run today, but it looks like it won’t go until tomorrow.  Darn.

Settling for plan B, I checked out a map and hit the hiking trails.  It was still early, only 8am, and people were just starting to stir in their tents.  I had the incredible wilderness almost entirely to myself.  Originally looking at one of the longer hikes, about 15km, I found that the trails were another casualty of the late spring.  The ones I wanted to do were all still closed.  Sigh.

Instead, I opted for a shorter 8km loop up to Svartifoss.  From the falls, I headed east to a bluff with stunning views over Skaftafellsjökull.  I found myself a comfortable perch on some rocks overlooking the glacier and paused to enjoy a snack and contemplate the meaning of life.

The descent from the bluffs back to the visitor centre was steep and unrelenting.  By the time I made it back down to civilization, I was actually glad that I had been forced to do the shorter hike.  I was running on empty.  Although I’ve been feeling much better the last couple of days, I still haven’t completely recovered from my cold yet.

I stopped off in the cafeteria for some more food – a croissant, an orange and a hot chocolate.  Feeling somewhat rejuvenated, I headed back to my car.  In my travels over the last couple of days, I had passed several signs indicating points of interest off the main road.  I decided today was a perfect day to see where some of them went.

The highlight was Heinabergsjökull.   The glacier itself wasn’t particularly impressive, but the drive to reach it was a lot of fun.  It was a long trek off the highway on little used dirt tracks with nothing around for miles and miles.  Along the way there is a bridge to nowhere.  A couple of decades ago, the river that it used to cross dried up almost overnight then reappeared several kilometres away.

At last I reached the foot of the glacier and found another small glacial lagoon.  Climbing over the huge moraines, I made my way to the edge of the water.  When I spotted a couple of large icebergs wedged between the glacier and a cliff, I felt a spark of adventure ignite.  How incredible would it be to climb onto one of those mammoth chunks of ice, just to be able to say that I had climbed an iceberg?

Following the shoreline, my hopes were soon dashed when I came up to a river that I couldn’t easily cross.  I wasn’t willing to wade across the icy waters, even for the opportunity to climb an iceberg.  That can be something for my next bucket list ��

I made the long trek back to the main road and made one last drive into Höfn for supplies before retracing my journey back to the hostel.   Tonight is my last night in Vagnsstaðir.  Tomorrow it’s back to Reykjavik.

Completing the Circuit

Published Date : June 22, 2013

I hadn’t planned on stopping at Jökulsárlón again, but I couldn’t resist when I drove by on my way out of town this morning.  There was absolutely nobody around today, and there wasn’t so much as a breath of wind.  The surface of the lagoon was completely calm and clear as glass.  I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take a couple more photos with the perfect reflections of the sky and icebergs.  The only sound was the birds and the creaking of the ice.  Magnificent!

I passed by Skaftafell once more and then left the mountains behind.  Wide open plains of black sand stretched for miles in all directions.  The occasional river, lava field or meadow of purple lupines broke up the monotony.

As I continued to drive west, I couldn’t help but notice the giant monolith that was growing on the horizon to the south.  The massive crag of volcanic tuff rises up out of the plains with jagged cliffs and its grassy plateau.  When I saw a small dirt road heading off towards it, I didn’t hesitate.

The single track wove through a field of lupines, which gradually petered out until there was nothing but sand around me.  I could see that the “road” would eventually continue all the way around the monolith.  Not far from the southern tip though, I was halted when the sand became incredibly soft and the road crossed a river.  I knew there was no way I was making it across that wash without a superjeep (modified and lifted trucks with massive tires – very popular in Iceland for driving off the main roads).    I spent some time to enjoy the view and watch some of the birds nesting on the sheer cliffs before retracing my journey back to the highway.

Thinking my explorations of the mount were done, I was surprised to see a sign on the eastern side of the crag pointing to a picnic area.  This road was definitely the main access.  Still a dirt track, it was much better maintained and could actually accommodate two-way traffic.  Seeing a small picnic area, I pulled in and read the sign.

It turns out this monolith is called Hjörleifshöfði.  The 220m high headland was supposedly named for Hjörleifur Hróðmarsson, considered the second settler of Iceland.  He had travelled with Ingolf Arnarson from Norway around the year 870.  Hjörleifur had chosen to set up shop on top of the imposing mount and lived there until his Irish slaves turned on him and killed him.  The following spring Ingolf heard about the betrayal and returned, killing all of the slaves.  Hjörleifur is said to be buried on the peak.

After spending the morning cooped up in the car, I decided to take up the challenge and climb Hjörleifshöfði.  From the picnic area, the trail climbed steeply up a gully.  While the markers were clearly visible, it was obvious that this trail was little used.   Scrambling on all fours on several occasions, my legs were burning after just a few minutes.  I stopped often to enjoy the view and rest, seeing no reason to push myself too hard.   Despite the stiff breeze, it was warm in the sunshine and I was soon down to just a t-shirt and converting my pants to shorts.

Reaching the plateau at last, I was met with a stunning view.  The plateau stretched out around me in rolling green hills, black sands lay below, the mountains and glaciers rising in the distance.  It was spectacular.

From that point I had about a 1km hike across the plateau, up and down gullies, before one final push up to the highest peak.  The remains of an old homestead lay at the top of Hjörleifshöfði as well as a stone cairn that supposedly shelters the remains of Hjörleifur Hróðmarsson.  Tucked away in the remains of the homestead in an element proof pelican case there was a visitor book which I was happy to add too.

The wind was even stronger here and after a few minutes, I rapidly began to grow chilled.  Continuing on my way, I saw that this part of the trail was much heavier travelled.  I even passed a dozen or so people making their way up as I descended.  I’m not sure which way was easier really.  While not as steep as the route I had travelled, the slope was relentless.  I had at least been granted a bit of a rest while traversing the plateau.

I descended past the remnants of some 18^th century homesteads about halfway down, tucked into a sheltered little glen.  Life would most definitely not have been easy on the slopes of this mount, but people made a go of it up until the early 1900s.  They raised cattle, farmed and harvested birds eggs from the cliff-side nests.

Back on level ground once more, I had about a bit of a trek back to my car.  I had descended into a larger parking area.  It was obviously the main one that people used and confirmed my suspicions that few people bothered to walk the entire loop as I had just done.  While only about 2-3km long, it’s definitely not an easy walk, but the views are absolutely worth the effort of making the climb!

Continuing my drive, I passed Eyjafjallajökull, but didn’t stop.  The volcano that wreaked so much havoc in 2010 was just another snow covered peak today.

I arrived in Reykjavik in late afternoon, not sure what to do with the rest of my day.   Right from the early research stages for this trip, Reykjavik really hasn’t held much interest for me.   There were a few museums that looked like they could be interesting, but really my goal was to see the rest of the country, not the capital.

I eventually decided to visit Perlan and the Saga Museum.  Perlan means “pearl” in English and is a fitting name for the unique building.   It is a glass dome built on top of hot water storage tanks.  It houses a fine dining restaurant, cafeteria, a couple of small shops and an outdoor viewing deck that overlooks the city.  There is an artificial “geysir” that goes off every few minutes as well.

Perlan is also home to the Saga Museum.  The small exhibit of wax figures combined with audio guides explains some key parts of Iceland’s history and the Icelandic sagas.   It cost 2000ISK for entry to the museum and I think I spent about 30-40 minutes there.  It was interesting, but my audio guide stopped working after only a few minutes and I couldn’t be bothered to ask for a replacement.

After leaving the museum, I headed upstairs to the cafeteria to rustle up some dinner.  Big surprise, I had soup and bread again ��  I really do like the soup here, but it comes down to logistics more than anything.  It’s the cheapest thing on the menu.  Entrees in restaurants are not cheap here and I can’t afford to be spending $25-30 per meal. $10-15 for the soup is pricey enough as it is!