Iceland - Day 4 - Sugarjets Studio

Day 4 : Skogafoss to Skaftafell National Park

Route :
Ring Road from Skogafoss to Skaftafell National Park, with stops at Arcanum Glacier Tours, Vík and Fjaðrárgljúfur Canyon

Campsite : Skaftafell National Park

I had to use the van's floor-mounted Webasto heater to dry my hair. I don't know why I bothered. It's the definition of futile.

2 small coffees, 2 single-serving containers of skyr. What $13 looks like in Iceland.

These beasts are old American military vehicles. They had to close the roads to other traffic and drive them from Reykjavik at night under escort to get them to this location because they're not really street-legal. These are used for Arcanum's glacier walks - they loaded up a tour-bus full of people while we were getting ready. There was another group headed out on snowmobiles - we were the only two ATV-ers that day.

Apologies for the GoPro video stills. The nice camera sat this one out.

Our guide, Bjarki, explained that this black sand beach is relatively new. There's about a mile of beach that has been added to the coastline in this area because of eruptions, lava flows and ash. You can barely see it in the photo above, but on the horizon on the far left there's a free-standing hunk of rock. According to Bjarki, that used to be an island off the coast during the age of the Vikings - and they used to store their ships on top of it. Now it's just a hunk of rock surrounded by a road and homesteads instead of the wild waves of the Atlantic, thanks to the volcanoes currently sleeping under the south coast.

This is the skeleton of an orca that has been sitting out on this beach for years.

From the whale bones, we raced on to another skeleton - the wing-less, nose-less, tail-less, twisted wreckage of a American military plane that crashed on Sólheimasandur beach decades ago. It's a desolate place - but still exceedingly beautiful. And you don't need an ATV to get there - you can walk from the Ring Road. This location got so much overuse that local landowners have outlawed vehicles on the access road - so there is now a parking lot right alongside the Ring Road between the Skógafoss waterfall and the town of Vík. You likely won't be able to miss it - if it's tourist season, it will be full of cars and campers. It's a 4 km walk to the wreck. Just follow the herd. :)

Bjarki took some time to build us a visual aid - a lava & ash model of the volcanoes and glaciers that threaten the coast. Myrdalsjökull is currently the greatest threat to this area - it's basically 200–700 metres (660–2,300 ft) of ice covering a slumbering sub-glacial volcano. And Katla is overdue to wake up from her nap.

Though we couldn't see the ice cap Bjarki was referring to thanks to the rain, we were familiar with it by now. We'd driven by it several times. It's visible from the Ring Road and sits north of the town of Vík. Katla normally erupts every 40–80 years, and has rarely gone more than 100 years without a violent eruption. The last eruption was in 1918. Bjarki basically explained that once Katla decides to erupt, they will have approximately 2 hours before it melts through the entire ice cap. 120 minutes to evacuate tourists and for residents to execute their emergency plans. The entire southern coast of Iceland will flood from the melted glaciers - so everyone is acutely aware of the dangers and how to respond when it happens, because they are now at the point where an eruption is basically imminent. For example, the residents of Vík are to all meet at the church - seen below, with the red roof - because it is sheltered by the mountains, which will help direct flood waters around that area of town.

(We didn't have time, but if you're adventurous and want to get up close and personal with Myrdalsjökull, you can - if you take road 221 north from the Ring Road, you'll land in the parking lot of the Arcanum Glacier Café. A 15 minute hike from here will land you at the Sólheimajökull tongue of Myrdalsjökull - grab some coffee, soup or baked goods when you're done).

From the plane we attacked the dunes - way more fun for Mark than for me. As a passenger, from this point on the ride became almost unbearable. The bumps we hit were fine for a driver whose crotch is hugging the seat and has the benefit of seeing what's coming - but impossible to brace against while flailing around blind in the back seat. The first impact rearranged my vertebrae and I think my spine got shoved three inches up into my brain just for good measure. I spent this entire portion of the ride praying for it to be over. As you can see, it was raining fairly hard by now. But Mark enjoyed it!

When we made it back to base, we were soaked on the outside but dry underneath. We looked ridiculous, but it was obvious why they layer you up so well. We each had one of those massive orange and black suits on underneath our black waterproof outer layer, and under that we were each wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a heavyweight fleece. I could barely move.

We quickly made friends with the office canine - I can't for the life of me remember his name, and even if I could I wouldn't be able to spell it. The office staff seemed surprised - and even a bit concerned - that he took interest in us, but he happily let Mark give him some love, and he hopped right up in my lap all on his own, and even posed for a selfie. Dogs know.

You'll notice that my hair looks just about the same as it did that morning before I spent all that time drying it with the van's floor heater.

See also : fu·til·i·tyˌfyo͞oˈtilədē/noun
noun: futility

pointlessness or uselessness.

After a cup of coffee and some thank yous and goodbyes at Arcanum, we once again headed east toward Vík. There is some stunning scenery here, but it was draped in thick fog and rain (as it had been since we arrived), and after being out in it all morning, I wasn't sure I wanted to stop. But stop we did - I decided I didn't want to pass up the chance to see Reynisfjara Beach - even in the rain.

Looking back westward toward Dyrholaey - the arch and the lighthouse that sits atop the peninsula are also popular tourist spots. We skipped it because of the wind and weather. I suspect the wind up on those cliffs was pretty stiff that morning. #parkintothewind

As we often found, if there's something you want to do in Iceland, you should at least attempt it, even if the weather is shit - because you never know when the gods will smile upon you. Often they won't - but sometimes, just sometimes, they will. We were at the beach for maybe 10 or 15 minutes - long enough to drive around twice looking for a parking spot, decide there weren't any so we should make one, then head out on to the beach to take a few photos - when we started seeing hints of sun. It wasn't long and we had clear, blue skies.

AND PUFFINS, you guys. PUFFINS!

There aren't supposed to be puffins here in September - I purposely left my big zoom lens at home because I'd read that I wouldn't need it. Well, guess what, all you Debbie Downers. PUFFINS. IN SEPTEMBER.

The skies were full of them - and other gulls and sea birds that nest on the giant basalt cliffs. They were swooping and bombing and swirling everywhere. And it was SUNNY. And we were happy.

These little guys were sleeping all over the beach - unafraid of humans, and unwilling (or unable) to fly away. Just napping in the sun. There really aren't any natural predators for them here, so I guess it's not necessary for them to be overly concerned with napping out in the open.

Reynisfjara is Iceland's most dangerous beach. The surf in Iceland is turbulent, powerful, and unpredictable. Bjarki warned us about this on our ATV ride. Rogue waves are common - and so is tourist stupidity - two things that typically don't mix. You wouldn't expect this would be a dangerous place - but it is. People die here more often than you'd think. If you get swept out to sea, ain't nobody jumping in to save you.

More clouds started moving in, so we took that as our cue that our time here was over.
We decided to head into town to gas up, find some food, and get moving.

I took the picture above from the parking lot of the gas station we stopped at in town. And then I literally turned around and took the photo of the church below, from the exact same spot. Vík is a stunning town, if Iceland permits you to see it. The Gods lifted the veil to give us a brief glimpse, and for that, I'm eternally grateful.

The rock formations in the photo above that rise up from the ocean are called Reynisdrangar - and as is fitting in the land of the Sagas and elves, there is a legend associated with them. Supposedly these formations were once actually trolls, who were trying to steal a three-masted ship out of the sea. In the midst of their heist, the sun started to rise - and the sunlight turned them to stone. So here they sit, off of Reynisfjara beach, for all eternity.

Vík is sort of notorious for being rainy. It's kind of a given that if you spend any amount of time there, you're gonna get wet. But this is just Iceland's way. Weather is constantly changing, clouds are always shifting, rays of sunlight dancing through raindrops every time there's a break in the clouds, sprinkling rainbows haphazardly as it does. Fog veils are forever dropping or lifting, concealing or revealing landscapes and views and hidden treasures. This dramatic shift in weather only adds to Iceland's magic. I honestly believe you'll never see the same Iceland twice.

We continued north-east on the Ring Road toward Skaftafell National Park, which is where we'd camp for the night. The landscape changes once you get north of Vík. The photo above shows an Icelandic bridge. Many are single-lane - and right-of-way goes to whoever gets there first.

We took a quick detour to see Fjaðrárgljúfur Canyon. The weather had tanked once again and it was raining and the pathways were soooo muddy and slippery. It is possible to walk up along the rim of the canyon, but it was next to impossible in the rain. I watched quite a few people go tits up trying to walk back down to their cars. No thanks. I wandered down into the canyon but the water was too high to get anywhere. Mark took a nap. Once the parking lot cleared out a bit, we got back on the road.

I wish the weather had been better at the canyon - but as I've said, Iceland showed us what it wanted us to see.
Had we stayed longer to explore the canyon, we would've missed THIS - and never even known it.

Sunset at Svínafellsjökull - a tongue of Vatnajökull, Europe's largest glacier.

There's a small lagoon here with icebergs and HOLY SHIT A RAINBOW!
Believe me when I say 80% of the photos I took on this day happened at this place.

As the sun faded and the light changed, we decided we needed to get going because there were some instant mashed potatoes with our name on them, and Mark was more than ready for a beer. The campground is just down the road from here, so we headed down there to find a spot before it got dark. Goodnight, beautiful world!

<<< Day 3

day 5 >>>