Saturday, July 24
We woke to…more rain. We were resolved, though, to make another foray deep into the highlands and hope for better weather.
The road drive from Geysir to Landmannalaugar (something like “countryman’s rest,” a reference to the thermal pools that have provided relaxation for the locals for many years) was amazing for its beauty and its contrasts. The first third took us through some verdant farmland amid the mountains; following the course of a huge river that often opened out into the kind of inland sea one encounters on the Hudson, we drove east toward the huge dormant volcano Hekla. Here is the church of one of the very few villages we passed.
With a height of 1500 meters, the volcano itself was shrouded in cloud.
As we came abreast of the volcano, the road rose over a high ridge and, once down on the other side, we were in a lava field that stretched for at least ten miles. The proprietor of the guesthouse where we spent the night said that the volcano last erupted in 2005, killing livestock and destorying farmland.
Much of the next section of the drive took us through country that mixed verdant fields and lava.
As we came nearer to the start of the gravel road that led about 25 km into Landsmannalaugar, the terrain become increasingly arid and lunar.
This may be the time for a note on road travel in Iceland. In the western third of the country, there is a sparse network of roads that lead from the Ring Road on the coast into the interior. These roads
And then the fun really started. The F road that led into the natural area was much worse than the road travelled yesterday. Although there were fewer large rocks and potholes, the washboarding was relentless and at times downright violent.
We thought our little Suzuki was going to be shaken to bits, but somebody bolted it together pretty well, because it came through like a champ. We heard a few cars that sounded like some parts had come loose or fallen off, but not our chariot.
The scenery was increasingly spectacular as we drove into the mountains.
Landmannalaugar is only one of a number of natural areas in a the huge Fjallabak Nature Preserve. As we entered the preserve, we chatted with a very nice ranger who gave us some tips on the area. The first one was to drive up off the main road to see a lake in a deep hollow.
Aside from the numerous bugs, we saw very little wildlife in the highlands. These guys wer the exception.
As we drew nearer to Landmannalaugar, we began to see our first rhyolite mountains.
As the photos make clear, much of the area is a huge lava field, spewed from the many volcanos in the area. Most of the lava is basalt—the black or grey stuff with which we’re all familiar. Rhyolite lave, though, is multicolored, with the various minerals it contains each producing a different color.
There are actually three gravel roads into Landmannalaugar; our choice, F 208 from the north, is the only one that doesn’t involve a river crossing. Our road came to an effective end with a parking area at the edge of a river. Larger vehicles can cross the river itself, though not everyone makes a good decision about whether their car has enough clearance.
We chose the footbridge. And, just as we got out of the car, the sun came out…and stayed out for the rest of the afternoon.
That’s the encampment in the background: a ranger station with information on the trail; a bunkhouse; a pretty rough campground (tent sites are your choice; rocky or soggy); and a couple of old trucks that serve food and drink.
One of the problems of hiking in the highlands is the time it takes to access the area: day trippers like us are limited to shorter walks. We chose a loop that gave us a taste of most of what the area has to offer. The trail rises from the encampment onto a vast lava field.
As you walk through a well-graded path through the field of black and gray basaltic lava, mountains become visible all around: the contrast between the basaltic lava and the increasingly colorful rhyolite is stunning.
As you near the end of the lava field, a huge meadow opens at your feet…with the most colorful mountains we’ve ever seen as a backdrop.
From here the trail climbed onto the shoulder of Brennisteinsalda, said to be the most colorful mountain in Iceland. The angle and brightness of the sunlight has an incredible effect on the minerals in the rhyolite.
The shoulder of the mountain is a geothermal area in its own right, with steam rising from numerous fumeroles and steam fissures.
The trail is a loop, bringing the walker down through the other side of the large lava field. And while the walk through the lava field on the way up is a piece of cake, the walk down at the other side is anything but. Much of it is a scramble, and there is no part of it that is level.
We were very careful for the first part of the descent, and extraordinarily careful for the remainder…after we turned a corner and found a four-man mountain rescue team putting a woman on a stretcher, presumably with a broken leg!
A narrow, rather treacherous path finally plunges off the lava field and down toward a rushing stream.
The remainder of the path follows the stream along a narrow gorge between Brennisteinsalda and Blahnúkúr, the blue mountain. The first section had lovely views back.
As we neared the encampment, an enormous valley gradually opened to our right, revealing a small range of rhyolite peaks.
Back at camp, we had a quick look at the very popular thermal bath. As tempting as it looked, the signs warning about skin rashes were enough to turn us away.
Back at our car, we made good time on the gravel road…up to the last three kilometers, which were a torture no matter how slowly you drove. The trip to Guesthouse Geldingaholt in the town of Arnes was a breeze…except when we had a problem with non-vehicular traffic.
The horses were a sign; our guesthouse was actually a horse and sheep farm run by a very nice couple. Although very simple, we had a nice meal there and slept well.
