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Exploring Akureyri and northern Iceland

Exploring Akureyri and northern Iceland

Following our rocky first day in central Iceland, pun intended, we returned to Akureyri to get our car repaired. With broken rear suspensions, it was a slow and bumpy ride back. All of our stuff was bouncing around for hours in the car. Tools and rock samples collided repeatedly with beer cans, which lead to quite the leaky mess in the back. By the end of the journey, our car smelled like a fraternity dormitory.

Our bouncy SUV with zero back suspensions

On our way back to northern Iceland, Paul took a little detour to show me a gorgeous waterfall spot with columnar basalts. For those who don’t know, columnar basalts are a tall hexagonal rock formations that form when thick lava flows cool and contract. This causes the rocks to crack and break into unique shapes resembling natural stone pillars. Columnar basalts are quite common in Iceland as well as other parts around the world with past or present volcanism.

Columnar basalts flanking a river and waterfall, northern Iceland

Several hours later, we arrived in Akureyri and immediately took our car to the mechanic shop. The mechanics soon realized they needed a car part to be flown in from Reykjavik so the soonest they could fix the car was by the next day. Thus, I ended up having a free day to explore Iceland’s biggest northern town.

Akureyri

Often referred to as the capital of northern Iceland, Akureyri is a charming little town nestled at the base of Eyjafjörður, Iceland’s longest fjord. Despite its small size, Akureyri has a good variety of cafes, restaurants and bars along its main street. There’s a beautiful cultural center and botanical garden in the town center as well.

Akureyri’s main street with bars, restaurants and trolls

Akureyri was founded in the 9th century by a group of Norse settlers lead by Helgi Magri Eyvindarson. It later gained prominence in the 18th century when Danish merchants established a trading center there. The town’s growth accelerated in the 19th and early 20th centuries, driven by its thriving fishing industry and favorable location in on the fjord, which provided a sheltered harbor for ships.

Statue of Norse settlers Helgi Magri Eyvindarson and his wife

During World War II, Akureyri served as an important Allied base, contributing to the town’s development and infrastructure. Post-war, Akureyri continued to expand, becoming a cultural and educational hub in northern Iceland.

Eyjafjörður, Iceland’s largest fjord

In modern times, the town has kept its historical charm with well-preserved wooden houses, museums like the Akureyri Museum and Nonni’s House, and landmarks like the Akureyri Church, designed by Iceland’s state architect, Guðjón Samúelsson. This blend of history, culture, and natural beauty makes Akureyri a unique destination in Iceland and one that I’m glad I got to briefly explore.

Akureyri Church near the town center

For those interested to read more about the town and Iceland in general, I recommend having a look through guidetoiceland.is.

Northern Iceland

The next morning we eagerly awaited to get our car back from the shop and head out into the field again. Our planned early morning start had to be pushed back as our Landcruiser was still undergoing repairs. The delay wasn’t too bad considering our targets for the day were in northern Iceland, just a few hours drive east. However, Paul was becoming quite impatient. Finally, after a couple of hours, we got the car back, suspensions and all, and quickly drove off towards Gæsafjöll.

Gæsafjöll, northern Iceland

Getting the job done

Gæsafjöll was a relatively obscure hyaloclastite mountain about an hour drive northeast of Akureyri. Just next to it, however, was a much more renowned active volcanic caldera named Krafla. The road took us past Lake Mývatn, a famous tourist attraction in northern Iceland. We then had to take a series of dirt-roads that may, or may not have been private roads.

Different rock layers at Gæsafjöll reflecting different eruptive events

It wasn’t our intention to trespass of course, but the closer we could drive to our mountain, the less time we’d have to waste walking. Finally, we reached a closed gate. So in true explorer fashion we simply let ourselves through. There was nobody around to ask for permission anyway… After getting as close as the road would allow, we parked the car and set off on foot. Within an hour we managed to reach the mountain, sample several outcrops and finish our work in the area.

Collecting my rock samples from Gæsafjöll

It was a beautifully efficient day thus far and we only had one more target to the southeast with plenty of time to spare. When we got back to the car, I noticed cylindrical red piece of plastic in the grass: a shotgun cartridge. It was time to leave.

Still not sure if we were on private property or not, but we didn’t want to stick around to find out

The hunt for Bláfell

Our second and last target for the day was Bláfell, another large hyaloclastite mountain located south of Mývatn. To try to reach it, we’d have to take another one of the F-roads into the Icelandic highlands. But before we’d venture back into the desolate grey lands, we stopped for a nice lunch at a cool little pizzeria on the way!

The perfect lunch stop along the way

After a good meal we hit the road. Trying to figure out the right road once we got off the paved ring road was challenging. We were using what maps we had of the area and our GPS point of where Bláfell should be. We chose to take a road called Grænavatnsgrundir, heading towards Sellandafjall. Bláfell was supposed to be parallel to Sellandafjall and we were hoping the road would curve around the first mountain and get us close to our target.

Our GPS target spot was supposed to be somewhere in those mountains

The all too familiar Icelandic wastelands

Once more we were back in the bleak alien world extending into central Iceland. Apart from some sparse weeds, the vegetation was gone. So was the clear blue sky. As if to mirror the dark desolate rocky wastes, the sky turned a grey overcast.

As the road took us further south, we could glimpse what we thought was Bláfell in the distance to the east. However, it was quite far away with several mountain ridges and a vast terrain of basaltic flows separating us from it. We kept on driving in hopes we’d have the chance to turn towards it at some point. However the further we drove, the more it became clear we were getting further away from our mountain. At that point the road was also just basically a set of old tire tracks we were following.

Driving further south trying to find the end of the massive lava flows to our left

Off-roading had crossed our minds, but considering the extensive wall of lava flows that was flanking us, it seemed quite impossible.

Should we push our luck?

Finally, we reached what looked like the end of the lava flow. However, we were now very far from Bláfell. The road pretty much disappeared by this point. There were still some tire-marks left, but they looked more like dirt-bike or quad tracks rather than car tracks. The only potentially possible way to continue was to cross a fairly steep sand dune and off-road it from there. However, with our previous car troubles and prospects of getting stuck, we weren’t too eager to push our luck. We got out of the car to scout around and our prospects weren’t looking good.

Surrounded by lava flows, our last option to reach Bláfell was going off-road

I was cautiously encouraging Paul to try to brave the sands. As long as we steered clear of the jagged basalts, our car should be fine. However it was also getting late in the afternoon. Considering we had to drive back to Akureyri, we couldn’t afford wasting too much time in the desert. Nor could we afford risking getting lost, or damaging the car again…

Bláfell in the distance with a maze of sand and lava flows between it and us

Paul weighed our options carefully. Whatever he’d decide, I’d be onboard. With a heavy sigh and a defeated smile, he decided to give up on Bláfell and turn back. The mountain had won this day.

Hverir: a living land of color, heat and gas

On our way back to Akureyri, we made one last stop at Hverir, a geothermal spot near Mývatn. Easily accessible from the ring road, Hverir is a popular tourist attraction in northern Iceland boasting an eerie landscape with vivid colors, bubbling mud pots, hissing steam vents and more.

A surreal landscape of color, heat and gas

The first and probably most striking feature of Hverir is the colorful landscape. Vivid shades of yellow, orange, red, and brown are a stark contrast to the barren surroundings. These colors are due to the high concentration of minerals such as sulfur and iron in the geothermal deposits. Due to the extreme geothermal activity there, the land is also devoid of vegetation.

Mud pots, fumaroles and hot springs

The area is dotted with mud pots, which are essentially pools of hot, bubbling mud formed by geothermal activity. These grayish mud pots are created when the acidic geothermal waters dissolve surrounding rocks into a fine clay, which is then brought to the surface.

Bubbling mud pots at Hverir

Another feature that Hverir is famous for is its fumaroles. Fumaroles are basically steam vents that release sulfurous gases from the Earth’s crust. The steam rises from cracks in the ground, often at high temperatures, and the air is thick with the smell of sulfur, giving the area a characteristic “rotten egg” odor. The corrosive sulfur also creates vivid yellow vuggs in the rocks creating an unsettling dissolution texture.

Vuggy dissolution textures in rocks with corrosive, yellow, sulfur-rich rims

There were also hot springs in the area, though they were far too hot for bathing. These springs contribute to the steam that rises from the ground, adding to the area’s steamy, surreal atmosphere.

Steaming fumarole at Hverir

The constant flux of heat, steam, and chemicals gradually erodes the surface rocks constantly reshaping the land and the size of its fumarols and mud pots. Due to the extreme temperatures of the ground and steam vents visitors are asked to stay on the marked paths.

I was very happy we got to take some time to go sightseeing at Hverir

After leaving Hverir we drove past several other attractions including the lava fields at Dimmuborgir and the phreatic tephra cone, Hverfjall. I wished that we had more time to explore the wonders of northern Iceland, but for the time being we had to return to Akureyri and prepare for our next field day which would take us back into the heart of central Iceland.

From north to central Iceland

From north to central Iceland

The second day in Iceland was spent mostly on the road, driving from Reykjavik to Akureyri in the north. The landscape thus far consisted of large grass-covered flat-topped mountain plateaus. These were in fact the remnants of past lava flows stacked on top of each other. Small patches of snow still persisted atop the higher plateaus. Sharp, jagged crests would occasionally emerge from among the generally gently curving mounts and hill mounds.

Serrated peaks towering above the rolling basaltic plains, Iceland 2016

It was a wild and rugged looking scenery, but with farmlands and pastures dotting the grasslands and foothills, it still looked quite habitable. This would soon change once we’d head towards central Iceland.

After the circa 5-hour drive we arrived in Akureyri and spent the rest of the day shopping for supplies and maps for the days to come. Sadly our time was short and there wasn’t much time for sightseeing this time around. With the car packed and ready to go, we began our drive towards central Iceland the next day.

Eyjafjörður Fjord in Akureyri

Iceland’s roads

For those who’ve never been to Iceland, the countries paved roads outside major cities basically consist of a large ring-road going around the island. In order to access the central part of the island (the Icelandic highlands) you need to use a series of F-roads (Fjallvegur), which are only accessible during the summer.

On the ring road east from Akureyri

The F-roads, or mountain roads are rough, unpaved gravel roads that require 4×4 vehicles. The F, which stands for “fjall” (mountain), might as well stand for “fuck”, because if you don’t have a good vehicle you’re fucked on these roads. Like seriously, some of the F-roads literally cross basalt outcrops that will destroy any low-riding car. Certain F-roads cross sandy glacier flood plains that can get you stuck in an instant. Plus there are numerous river crossings, which can easily drown a car engine.

This is as good as it gets on the F-roads in central Iceland

Most of the vehicles we saw on these roads were modified trucks and SUV’s with raised chassis, large tires and elevated exhaust systems. At a minimum you need a good SUV and even then you may have problems as we would soon find out.

The northern Icelandic Rift Valley

From Akureyri we drove further east for about an hour before turning south into the northern Icelandic Rift Valley on one of the F-roads. I was eagerly anticipating seeing one of the main active rift valleys. I expected we would drive through a narrow rocky canyon. Instead, we simply turned into a wide open grassy field with an anemic river flowing parallel to the road. All of which was flanked by the typical flat-top hills in the distance. The hills were so far apart on both sides that it took me a while to realize we were in fact in a valley.

Driving along the Northern Rift Valley

The landscape was similar for a while more before shifting radically to a completely barren wasteland. Gone were the grasslands and any semblance of vegetation for the most part. The greenery was now replaced by harsh rocky terrains covered in centuries old pumice and ashfall. The vast majority of the land was nothing but a brown-grey wasteland with snow-capped peaks in the distance. However, the occasional rivers and creeks would still allow for seldom patches of vegetation to fight for survival.

The old “land-bucket” was handling well thus far, but could it survive the F-roads for our entire expedition?

I had never seen such a desolate landscape before, or since. It was incredibly eerie and fascinating at the same time.

Huts and highlands

The plan for the day was to drive to Nyidalur, a remote hut and camping site deep in the Icelandic highlands. Nyidalur was also home to a couple of Park Wardens from the Icelandic Northern National Park, with whom we had to confirm our arrival.

The drive there was fairly uneventful with the exception of a couple of dubious river crossings. One of these gave us pause when we felt the backend of the car gently sliding down-river. No wonder these roads are closed for most of the year. We were getting nervous crossing these rivers during late-summer in a fairly large SUV. Imagine trying to cross them in late-spring when they’re bloated from all the melting snow.

Road poles marking the shallow river crossing near Nyidalur.

After arriving at our destination we drove to the dam at Þjórsarlón to scout our first possible area of interest. However, we didn’t find much there and it seemed like our real field work would only begin the following day.

Towards the late afternoon we were back at Nyidalur. Our SUV dwarfed by the large modified trucks in the parking lot. The hut consisted of an amalgamation of cabins and tents. Some of them offices and storage spaces, while most others were rent-outs for visitors. A large and proud Icelandic flag rising above all blew in the harsh, cold wind. We were on an alien planet and this was our base.

Nyidalur huts and camping ground deep in the Icelandic highlands

We had a nice dinner and then settled in to our shared cabin. Before sunset, I went out to briefly explore the surroundings by foot. It was fascinating to see vegetation surviving in this harsh, desolate land. Among the timid grasslands there were even patches of blooming pink wildflowers. This was truly a remarkable land.

Life finds a way even in the harshest remote regions