We walk walk walk along fall colored paths with short stubby native trees. Tall evergreen or birch trees in Iceland are planted anomalies designed to create a forest illusion, and in some cases in this rather exposed volcanic land, the illusion works. Upstream of Hraunfossar, the Children’s waterfalls, the river water flows and churns into a frothy turquoise with a whipped cream top, bashing and smashing its way against jagged lava sides and probably a kayaker’s dream. We stand over bridges, we take pictures, we do the things you do in the Icelandic fall, and the air is crisp and clear and smells like hot dogs. Oh wait, that’s the nearby cafe. Nevermind.
Hraunfossar is roughly translated to Icelandic as the children’s waterfall, or more accurately a series of little waterfalls that offer numerous plateaus and places for those Viking kids to play back in the days of yore. No doubt they’d be startled today by the battery of sophisticated gear aimed their direction from across the river. The water here veers from outright turquoise to this brooding blackened blue, depending on the skies and more particularly, on the angle you’re shooting it from. All around are the colors of a September fall in this stunning country, a farm on a green plain in the upper right, and relative quiet barring the whoosh of the passing water beneath our feet.
In the west of Iceland, a very Nordically named area of Bifrost-hmmm, sounds familiar–we mixed band of motley travelers climbed a winding set of wooden stairs until we hit the rim of Grábrók crater, whereby we were promptly greeted with a smashing gust of wind that literally bent some o’ the littler folk over, and the bigger of us became shaking kites in our parkas, leaning hard against the wind as we took one step, then another along the narrow rim. But the views speak for themselves, and loudly. This particular image above was taken from the gravel rim of the crater out to the surrounding area. Fall colors indeed…hellaciously beautiful. Then, of course, everyone dashed around and back down the steps lest they be blow into the depths of the crater. Spoilsports. Live a little!
One 3 kilometer hike in Northeast Iceland up,up,up. Check. Two major waterfalls: Hengifoss at the top, Litlanesfoss in the middle; you can see both in earlier blog posts here. And finally this sad, little throwaway waterfall at the bottom of the trail, and by the time I’d come back down it was raining like hell, stormy, big gusts throwing water sideways. Fact: Iceland is rife with throwaway waterfalls and drama queen weather that would be major hiking attractions back home. Get here to this geological baby of an island, folks.
The mighty Vatnajökull glacier is, in fact, SO mighty that it has a number of outlet glaciers that are themselves quite epic…miles across, in some cases. This white beast is the greatest glacier in all of Europe by volume and spans 9% of Iceland. Our minibus stopped in the middle of a gigantic glacial floodplain that had dropped miles of lava rock and ash and had mangled a nearby metal bridge into a twisted ruin. Light played on the far mountain tops and the epic landscape and broad colors of fall that dotted the floodplain enhanced the feeling of being a small dot on a vast planet which itself is a pale blue dot in a seemingly infinite universe. Thinking large as I chewed on dried fish jerky was admittedly not my most original moment. Get to Iceland, people. It’s purty.