As my geological trip across Iceland was progressing, I had run out of targets in north and central parts of the island. The next destinations were the east and south. Given the speedy sampling that we got done in the previous days, we were ahead of schedule. As a result I would soon embark on an impromptu journey across Iceland, from Snæfell in the east to Mývatn in the north.
Following our drive from Dreki, we spent the night at a guesthouse in a remote area in east Iceland. The owner was a big intimidating looking, bearded Icelandic gentleman. With a dog by his side and an axe in his hand, his visage combined with the isolated location gave us pause. Paul and I were wondering if we’d survive the night, or the man would chop us up into little bits. In the end our host turned out to be a warm and welcoming fellow. Genuinely curious about our work, he could not for the life of him wrap his head around what exactly was the purpose of my study.
The following morning we were supposed to get a replacement vehicle from the car rental company. We emptied the Landcruiser and waited for the rental agency representatives to come make the exchange.
Upon their arrival, they inspected the damaged car inside and out. I will never forget the hilarious moment one of them stuck their head inside the car and the foul smell created waves of wrinkles along his face. The odor of spilled food and beverages due to the absent suspensions made that car smell like a collage frat house. After the exchange we ended up with a smaller, more compact SUV in the form of a Dacia Duster.
How ironic that in Iceland of all places I’d end up behind the wheel of a Romanian car brand.
The snow-capped Mount Snæfell
Finally on the road again, we set off towards our new target area, Snæfell. An imposing snow-capped mountain, Snæfell is one of the tallest mountain peaks in eastern Iceland. When I gazed upon the mighty mountain, my hiking senses were tingling. However, our sampling points were not on Snæfell per se. Rather they were located on the various hills and in gullies surrounding the grand mountain.
This is where the novelty of Icelandic landform names had worn off for me. Ever since then, when other foreigners would come up to me and ask whether I could pronounce the name of the famous Eyjafjallajökull volcano, I would say “Please, that’s child’s play”. Then I would throw a few names from eastern Iceland at them like: Langihnjúkur, Nálhushnjúkar, or Vestri Sauðhnjúkar.
Indeed, there were many strange “jukurs” and “jukars” we trekked in our days around Snæfell. As we traveled further inland, with each new spot, we’d end up edging closer once more to the vast Vatnajökull ice field stretching across central Iceland. At around mid-day we took a lunch break atop one of our hills, marveling at the gorgeous view of Vatnajökull.
Another great day for sampling
Our first day in the east was quickly turning into another great success. With splendid weather and road conditions, we managed to sample over half of our targets around Snæfell. With but a few locations left, we decided to call it a day towards the late afternoon. That’s when I realized I didn’t have my borrowed geological hammer on me anymore.
Losing ones tools is such a typical rookie geologist mistake. Paul was eager to see how I’d deal with the problem. I was fairly certain I had forgotten it on our last outcrop. But the landscape was so uniform that it was hard to retrace our steps precisely. It didn’t take me long though to realize we had our GPS trackers on. So with some help from technology I quickly recovered the missing hammer. With a sly smirk on his face, Paul was visibly pleased with my quick thinking.
With a successful bounty in tow, we drove towards our new lodging, Laugarfell. A quaint mountain lodge fairly close to Snæfell, Laugarfell, with its two natural hot springs was quite a step up from the cramped and crowded huts we stayed at in central Iceland.
The monolith
The second day the sky was overcast and there was a light drizzle in the air. We drove back towards Snæfell to continue our rock-hunt. During one of our stops we hiked along a mossy valley with lingering patches of snow and ice. The rocks and landscape clearly carved out by expanding ice sheets not long ago, geologically speaking.
All was going well as we circled the mystical Mount Snæfell, now covered in a thick layer of clouds. Our sampling for the entire region was nearly done. As we drove around, we spotted a large rock pillar sticking out of the side of a slope in the distance. We had time to spare so we decided to investigate.
It was thus that we found Sótaleiði, or as I called it, the Monolith. This giant gravestone-shaped rock pillar composed of dark volcanic breccia was likely a large loose block remobilized by the receding ice sheet. A hiking trail panel nearby described the Monolith as Sótaleiði, a gravestone for the mythical giant Sóti.
Even though it wasn’t exactly the rock type we were looking for, we decided to take a sample for geochemical analysis, just out of curiosity.
Leaving the Monolith behind, we made one more quick stop on our way back to Laugarfell and grabbed the last of our target samples in eastern Iceland.
A journey across Iceland
Thanks to our good fortune and hard work, we were one day head of schedule. So I was hoping I could get Paul to go do some touristy sightseeing the following day. Specifically the Mývatn area which had caught my eye a few days before while we traveled around north Iceland. Unfortunately Paul had paper work he wished to catch up on, so he handed me the car keys and set me on my solo journey across Iceland.
The decision to let Paul solely drive throughout our trip came back to haunt me that day. I was quite reluctant about taking the wheel as it had been many years since I had driven and my past driving experience from Romania was minimal. Regardless, I wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to go sightseeing in Iceland because of my driving fear and anxiety. So with shaky hands and heart in throat I set out towards Egilsstaðir and Mývatn.
The weather was not great that morning. Heavy rain and wind were constantly battering the car throughout my journey. In some parts of the drive the wind was so strong that it felt like it was trying to tip the car over. Regardless, I kept on going with my loud music blasting on. My main gripe at the time being how I couldn’t enjoy that wonderful moment of my life because of my high anxiety. I was freely driving alone in Iceland to my Norwegian black metal music. Something I couldn’t even have dreamt of years before and all I could think of was what could go wrong on the road.
Mývatn
As I got closer and closer to Mývatn, I was finally starting to relax. I had completed the 240 km drive (my longest continuous drive at that point) from Laugarfell to Mývatn. There was of course the little issue of driving back, but I wasn’t going to worry about that just yet. I was going to take my time and enjoy some sightseeing.
Dark Fortresses
My first stop was the Dimmuborgir lava fields. To me this was a major attraction that I never thought I’d get to see, so I was super hyped. The main reason being that there is this Norwegian symphonic black metal band that I was a big fan of for years called Dimmu Borgir. Translated as “Dark Fortresses” their name was clearly inspired by the geologic feature in Iceland.
So what actually is the Dimmuborgir of Iceland you may ask. Simply put, it’s an expansive field of lava formations, including caves, pillars, and arches, which were created during a volcanic eruption approximately 2300 years ago.
This dramatic landscape formed when a large lava lake from the eruption began to cool and solidify on the surface while molten lava continued to flow beneath it. When the underlying lava drained away, the crust collapsed in some areas but left other sections standing, resulting in fascinating, unique, irregular features.
The name was given to reflecting the eerie, castle-like appearance of these lava structures. According to Icelandic folklore, the area is considered a mystical place, believed to be home to trolls and other supernatural beings. The site also ties into local legends about the Yule Lads, mischievous figures associated with Icelandic Christmas traditions.
The gloomy dark grey clouds above combine with the otherworldly landscape around me were fueling my vivid imagination. It was like an ancient dark fantasy conjured up by my young brooding mind had come to life. I deeply savored each moment of my time there.
After a good couple of hours of walking around the lava fields I went back to the car and had some lunch. It was still fairly early in the afternoon so I decided to go check out one more attraction in the area.
“R” for Reverse
My point of interest was Hverfjall, a large volcanic crater nearby. There was just one little problem. I seemed to be having a tough time figuring out how to put the car in reverse so I could back out of the parking space. The “R” on the stick shift clearly showed left-down, but no matter how much I tried it wasn’t going in reverse. To make matters worse, the parking lot was on a cliff. So each time I’d tap the gas and it would go forward instead of backward, I’d be creeping closer and closer to the cliff’s edge.
I was so frustrated and embarrassed that I’d constantly look around to make sure nobody was paying attention to my laughably futile maneuvers. Clearly there had to be some trick to changing the gear. Upon a closer inspection I noticed the line leading to the “R” was discontinued. I thought that perhaps there was a button there, so I tried pushing the stick down. Another failed attempt. As the car got closer to the edge, I was running out of tries.
I stopped once more to think carefully. That’s when it hit me! This was a Dacia and I had driven Dacia cars before. The way you put a Dacia in reverse gear is a little weird. You have to grab the ring around the fabric of the stick shift and pull it up. Then you can push it left-down into the correct gear socket. Eureka! I could finally back out of my parking space!
A short drive later I arrived at Hverfjall.
Hverfjall
With my renewed confidence I parked the car like a boss, and headed up the trail to the crater. Hverfjall is a phreatomagmatic crater, formed by explosive interactions between magma and groundwater or surface water.
These interactions led to violent eruptions that fragmented the surrounding rock and created the large, circular crater with a nearly symmetrical shape. This type of eruption results in a tuff ring, which is evident in Hverfjall’s steep 420 m high walls. The eruption occurred approximately 2800 years ago, producing a crater that measures around 1 kilometer in diameter and 140 meters deep.
There’s an entire hiking trail around the rim of the crater. However, I’m not sure if it’s possible to go down into the crater itself. Sadly I didn’t have enough time to do the hike or explore too much. I only spent about half an hour taking in the sights before I hopped back into my newly mastered car to drive back to Laugarfell.
I was less nervous about the drive then in the morning, but I felt quite tired for the first hour. At one moment I decided to pull over and go out for a few moments to allow the cold breeze to wake me up. I was also taking in the awesome sights of northern Iceland one last time. In spite of my driving related anxieties, this turned out to be one of my most memorable days in Iceland.
By the time I got back to eastern Iceland, the sun was out and shining. With a gorgeous sunset on the horizon I was finally enjoying every moment of the rest of my drive.
Odyssian
An adventurous soul in a never ending quest to find home.
