After a long day travelling to Iceland, I am very grateful to Bjorn Tryggvason, president of the Icelandic Stuttering Association – Málbjörg, and his family, who picked me up from the airport and allowed me to stay with them for the nights before and after the challenge. Their assistance is much appreciated. The drive from the airport at Keflavík to Reykjavík gave me the first views of the kind of terrain I might have to cross, and it was not very encouraging! The road traverses a huge lava field that looks very rough, barren and incredibly difficult to walk across.

The next day I was dropped off at the bus station near the centre of Reykjavík to catch the bus to Blönduós early in the morning. The journey took about 4 hours, following the main road, route 1, that circles the entire country. I was pleasantly surprised by the ability of the driver and conductor on the bus not just to speak English without a hint of an accent, but to recognise who was a tourist and automatically speak in English to them. The whole time that I was in Iceland I never had a problem speaking with anybody and on only one occasion did anyone speak to me in Icelandic before realising I was British.

Blönduós was pretty much as I imagined it to be – a small and spread-out town near the coast. Centrally placed on a small hill was the church, built of concrete to represent a volcanic crater. Though the guide book I had did not speak highly of it, I thought it looked OK and seemed to suit it’s surroundings.

After pitching my tent at the local campsite, I headed off to the supermarket for some last minute supplies and food for that day. I had heard that Iceland was an expensive place to live, but the experience still left me quite shocked. Not understanding the descriptions of the different loaves of bread, I just picked what I thought would be the cheapest – a small plain loaf no more than 400g - which turned out to cost me just over £2! The population of Iceland is only just over 270,000 (slightly more than the population of Hull) and relies on imports of most foods, so it is somewhat understandable.

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From: Blönduós

To: Blöndulón

The first day presented no real problems and good weather allowed me to cover quite a long distance. Though overcast, it was warm and there was only one spell of rain the whole day. The route followed tracks the whole day, passing numerous farms, all of them busily preparing silage for the coming winter. This was my first experience of walking with a map scale of 1:250,000, which I found quite depressing as I normally use 1:25,000 maps in the UK, so appeared to be travelling 10 times slower than normal! The terrain was mostly flat, except for a short climb towards the end of the day as I left the last remnants of civilisation and headed into the interior.

Towards the end of the day I had my first crisis. The map showed two rivers, one of which I planned to camp at for the night. There weren’t many watercourses around and so as I approached these rivers I was carrying no water and was beginning to get quite thirsty. Approaching the first river there was nothing but a slight depression in the ground, as if there had been a stream there once – perhaps just a seasonal stream following each spring thaw. No problem I thought, as I just had to carry on to the next stream a few hundred metres further on. By this time I had been walking for nearly 12 hours and had covered about 32 miles with 68lbs so I wasn’t really very pleased at having to walk even further. Things didn’t get any better though as the next stream was also dry – well not completely dry. There was a small ‘hoof’ dug hole with a muddy pool at the bottom surrounded by footprints of sheep and horses, reminiscent of wildlife films shot in Africa where the local wildlife has to dig down to find the only source of water for miles around. I had to find water as I had not drunk for the past hour, was feeling quite dehydrated and needed water to be able to cook that night. I had no choice but to follow the dry river bed, which meant doubling back on myself and heading away from the track that I would need to continue following the next day. After about half an hours walking over some quite rough terrain surroundings began to get more lush and after crossing a fence I heard the trickle of water and shortly came across a spring. I was very lucky at this point to also find a large area of flat grass perfect to pitch my tent on.

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From: Blöndulón

To: Kjölur

On the second day I again had very good weather, overcast and warm with only a few showers. The terrain, though following a track for most of the day, crossed large expanses of rocky desert and rough vegetation. Views stretched for many miles in all direction with very little to be seen. About half way through the day I got my first glimpse of the Hofsjökull glacier about 50km away – not very encouraging knowing that I had to reach it and walk round it before I would be even half way.

Half way through the morning I came across my first water obstacle. Blöndulón, a massive lake, was obviously quite high and so the level of the tributary that I had to cross was raised. Though still water, it was far too deep for me to cross without a swim. The track I was following was clearly impassable, and seemed to disappear on the other bank, so had probably been so for some time. I had no choice but to follow the bank of the lake/tributary until I could find somewhere that I could cross. Luckily this did not take me far off my chosen route and was heading in the right direction, but it did slow me down as I tried to weave my way between the tussocks of vegetation that lined the bank. Quite soon I found a suitable crossing point and managed to make my way over without having to take my boots off. Though a simple crossing, it was a warning of the problems that I was too come across further on.

Later on I rejoined the track that I was meant to be following, and continued through unchanging terrain towards the end of the day. I was quite pleased to find that one huge glacial river had been bridged, saving me a lengthy detour – only to find that just a few kilometres further on there was another that was not. There was a ford, and the track clearly carried on over the other side, so the river was crossable in a four-wheel drive – sometimes anyway. It was too deep and fast flowing for me to even consider trying to cross so I had no choice but to follow the bank and hope to find somewhere suitable. Luckily the river headed in the direction I wanted to go, but having to make my way along the bank was hard work as the tussocks made it very uneven. I kept walking for about two hours with no luck, and as it was approaching the end of the day I decided to camp and hope to cross the next day. Lesson learnt: the majority of water in glacial rivers originates from the very source, so you have to walk a long way before they get any smaller. Glacial rivers also follow a daily cycle of being smaller in the morning, as melting of the glaciers reduces overnight, and increasing during the day as daytime temperatures increase the amount of melt water.

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From: Kjölur

To: Kerlingarfjöll

The next morning the river had shrunk dramatically, and just a short walk further up widened dramatically to reveal numerous small islands criss-crossed by smaller streams. I slowly made my way across, moving from island to island trying to find the easiest points to cross each stream – some of which were still quite fast flowing and came to mid-thigh level. The weather for day 3 was again a good day. Blue skies and baking sunshine were relieved with periodic light showers and a slight breeze. Throughout the day I had dramatic views of the Hofsjökull glacier to my left and Langjökull glacier to my right.

Once I was across I followed a bearing directly south, hoping to meet the main road across the Kjölur, the F35, in just a few hours. Shortly though, I came across an even larger river, the Blanda, which flowed all the way to Blönduós and was the river I had camped next to on my very first night there. It was still a mighty river over 2 days walk from Blönduós and there was no way of crossing – so again I just had to follow the bank and hope to find somewhere to cross as soon as possible, otherwise I may have just had to camp early and wait until the next day for the level to drop. About 2-3 hours walk along the bank I did eventually come to a dramatically widened area with lots of small islands criss-crossed by streams, much the same as the river I had crossed earlier, but wider – about 70-100m. Again I started to island hop, slowly making my way from one side to the other in a haphazard manner. A lot of times I would try to cross from one island to another, only to find that it was just too difficult. On one occasion I was up to my waist in a fast flowing section, well out of my depth - which made me realise just how dangerous this crossing was – and had to retreat back to where I had come from to find a better route. Eventually I did mange to find my way across - after nearly an hour of failed attempts - making me realise that as I was crossing, and the water level was rising, I could have easily become stranded on one of the islands.

The remainder of the day was spent crossing a huge expanse of rocky desert that lay between the two glaciers. I could now clearly see the mountain range of Kerlingarfjöll ahead of me, which I wanted to reach and partially walk around within the same day. As I approached Kerlingarfjöll it became apparent that I was in no condition to carry on and had to finish sooner than I would have liked. My feet were really starting to hurt by this point of the challenge and I had a number of blisters that were not helped by the river crossings. By the end of the day I was walking very slowly and not covering much ground, so I knew that the best thing to do would be to stop early, get more rest overnight, and be in a better condition to make up ground the next day.

I camped just short of Kerlingarfjöll, pleased to get the extra rest. My routine in the evenings was simply to pitch, unpack, cook, make a few notes in my diary and then get to sleep as soon as possible.

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From: Kerlingarfjöll

To: River Þjórsá

The extra two hours sleep I got really made the difference on day 4, reflected in the distance that I managed to cover, helped by only having a couple of short river crossings to complete on this day. The weather was great, though a bit hot at times. The first half of the day I circled round the north side of Kerlingarfjöll, reaching a height of just over 1000m. The route then descended to a track that ran through lava fields and rocky/gravel deserts to the river Þjórsá. As I descended Kerlingarfjöll I got excellent views of the Vatnajökull glacier. Day 4 made me realise the amount of volcanic activity that has, and is still going on, in Iceland. Towards the top of Kerlingarfjöll are a number of hot springs and the smell of sulphur fills the surrounding air. I found it quite imposing as I crossed the lava fields, which are quite hard to describe so I suggest you have a look at some of my photos.

You would have thought I’d learnt my lesson on day one, but by the end of the day again I was starting to run out of water – though in my defence a number of watercourses shown on the map simply weren’t there. Luckily towards the end of the day I found a few pools, though not running water I really had no choice and they appeared fairly clear. At the first pool I came to I had my first experience of quick sand. As I approached the pool the ground was fairly flat and the water was clearly held just under the surface. A few steps further and I had sunk to mid calf level, slowly sinking further – after slowly retracing my steps I decided it really wasn’t worth the risk. Though I was thirsty I was sure I could continue a bit further and was a lot more cautious approaching the next pool.

After continuing for another hour or so, it became clear that I would probably have to camp in the middle of the desert, without any water source nearby. I continued for an extra ½ hour just in case, but eventually had to concede and pitched my tent directly onto the gravel – which didn’t give the most comfortable nights sleep. Though I still had some water from the pool I didn’t think there would be enough to cook with and have enough to be able to make it to the nearest water the next day. In fact, I was quite pleased that I didn’t have to cook, as it meant I could get to sleep sooner. Most nights I was too tired to know if I was hungry or not, only cooking because I knew I had to eat to take in the number of calories that I required.

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Following: River Þjórsá

Day 5 was the first day that I saw no vehicles at all. On the other days there had been a handful of four-wheel drives making their way along the rough tracks. The weather was good again, overcast but warm, with little rain. Terrain was yet again huge expanses of gravel desert, though there was some vegetation around the rivers. Though I was following the Þjórsá, the river was about a kilometre to my left so I hardly saw it all day.

The journey was only slowed down by a couple of river crossings, the second being the widest crossing (about 40m) that I had to make during the challenge. By now I was used to river crossings and managed to complete them fairly quickly. The crossings on Day 5 were relatively easy, no more than just above the knee and quite slow. Crossings did slow me down, taking 20 minutes to half an hour each. Each crossings would involve taking off my boots and socks and tying them to the outside of my rucsac. I would then roll my trousers up as far as I could, put on a pair of sandals and make my way across. The river beds were never flat and I relied on my trekking poles for support and to feel my way across. Often the rivers were either too deep to see the bottom or were glacial, so the water was turned grey with sediment. As soon as I reached the other side I would then have to dry my feet and re-boot them as quickly as possible before they got too cold. In some ways the river crossings were a blessing as it gave me an opportunity to clean and air my feet during the day. Quite often after a crossing I would feel revived and continue faster than I had been going before.

Day 5 was a particularly good day for me as I managed to cover a considerable distance in a short time and, most importantly, switched to a 1:100,000 map – so I felt like I was going 2 and a half times faster than before. That night I found a far more comfortable place to camp with running water. After looking at my maps, I pondered the possibility of reaching Landmannalaugar the next day, and perhaps completing the challenge in just 8 days.

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From: River Þjórsá

To: Laufdalsvatn

The weather took a turn for the worse on Day 6, being very windy with continuous waves of rain continuing through the afternoon. In the morning I descended to the River Þjórsá, crossing it by a road bridge and then heading off across yet more lava fields. These lava fields were different though, areas of black sand with numerous lumps of twisted and contorted black rock, best to have a look at my photos to get a better impression of what I mean. I was now approaching a more volcanically active part of the country, passing close to a lava field that formed as recently as 1913. Again there was very little water around, as it all disappeared into the sand leaving dry stream beds. After 2-3 hours my route followed the bottom of a range of hills to my right, so that I was following a rough, and rarely used track, between the lava field and the hills. Despite the rain, the ground was still very dry, and in one more sheltered cove I experienced my first sandstorms. Though they posed no real danger, it was quite an eerie sight as swirls of sand came towards me like small tornadoes. It was also very unpleasant to walk through as I had to cover my face as each wave of sand hit.

I had certainly set too hard a target to reach Landmannalaugar and, as on Day 3, I was starting to slow dramatically. The only water source nearby was Laufdalsvatn, a small lake set about 300m off the track and 60m above me in the hills. As I approached, it was like an oasis set in the desert, being the only water that I had seen for miles. The only grass that I could see to camp on was on the far side of the lake, a precarious walk and a bit too far for my liking. I ended up pitching on the only area of clear ground – a patch of black sand set at quite an angle. In hindsight I probably should have expended the extra effort to get a better nights sleep.

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From: Laufdalsvatn

To: Álftavatn

Day 7 started with a walk through large black sand deserts amid green mountains, though not grass ‘green’, but ‘moss’ green, which did not quite look right. After a few hours I reached Landmannalaugar, realising that there really was no chance of me having arrived there the previous day. Landmannalaugar is surrounded my steep mountains of varying pastel shades with numerous clouds of steam rising from hot springs and a lava field that fills half of the valley, altogether a very surreal place. Landmannalaugar itself is just a small collection of buildings, a hostel and a campsite – though the views and hot springs attracted many tourists, the most people I had seen for a week.

The route from Landmannalaugar followed a popular trekking route that is marked by coloured posts the whole way, with huts about every 10km. Because the area is a national reserve, camping is only allowed around some of the huts, and so from here on I had to plan my route with some plan of where to camp. At this point I was hopeful that I may be able to get to Skógar by the end of day 8, which meant at the very least I would have to reach Álftavatn, about 20km away – and it was already 2 o’clock.

The route out of Landmannalaugar initially goes right through the lava field. The lava field at Landmannalaugar was far more uneven than any others I had crossed so far, but the path that had been made by the many walkers before me made it relatively easy to cross. The path then began to climb steadily towards the first hut at Hrafntinnusker, at just under 1000m. The path passed right past a number of hot springs that filled the air with an acrid sulphur smell. Higher up there were a number of permanent snow fields to be crossed, though these were no great problem. Unexpectedly though, the path crossed numerous small gullies about 10-15m deep that covered the area. This greatly increased the amount of ascent from what I had expected as the map I had only showed contours to 20m.

Nevertheless I made good time and reached Hrafntinnusker by not long after 5pm. The next 10k to Álftavatn, though downhill, turned out to be far harder than the climb I had just done. I found that going downhill was far more painful, as it put more pressure on my feet. There were still numerous small gullies to be crossed which continued to slow me, so that by the time I got to Álftavatn I knew that I couldn’t possibly get any further that day. Through the latter half of the day low cloud and rain had only added to my discomfort.

That night, after looking at the maps, it was clear that I couldn’t possibly reach Skógar the next day. The distance of just over 50km wasn’t a problem on day 1, but by now I was in no condition to be covering that kind of distance. In addition I knew that the final leg from Þórsmörk to Skógar involved a climb of nearly 1000m to a pass between the two glaciers of Mýrdalsjökull and Eyjafjallajökull. To attempt such a distance and ascent would have been far too dangerous. Instead I had to split the distance into two final legs, firstly to Þórsmörk on Day 8 and then to Skogar on Day 9. These shorter legs also left me with more recovery time over night.

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From: Álftavatn

To: Þórsmörk

The weather on Day 8 was good, though overcast early on this cleared in the afternoon to give bright sunshine. The terrain started with yet more sand and gravel deserts, then in the afternoon became more mountainous with a few short climbs.

The afternoon became very difficult for me as my feet were really starting to hurt and to make things worse I was running our of ibuprofen, so chose to save what I had left for the last day. On Day 1 I had been resting for 15 minutes in every 2 hours, though now I was having to stop for 10 minutes after every 30. The pace was incredibly slow and quite disheartening compared to what I might normally manage to achieve. This was perhaps my slowest day (as the speed on Day 9 can be explained by an unexpected delay) proving that it really was a good decision to split this final section.

About 3km before Þórsmörk was what I initially thought to be the most annoying of the river crossings I had done, all I wanted to do was finish for the day, but yet again I was being delayed. In fact, after making the crossing, and knowing how close Þórsmörk was, my feet suddenly sprang into life again and I finished without much problem.

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From: Þórsmörk

To: Skógar

The final day, just a bit further to go now and that would be it…….then I go and get lost!

I don’t think it really could have been my fault, as two other couples got lost in the same place at the same time. After crossing the river at Þórsmörk I started out up the mountains on the far side of the valley. The map though small scale, clearly showed the path going up a gorge called Strákagil. There was also a path running into the gorge and so without hesitation I followed it. About 3km further on the gorge turned a corner and came to an abrupt stop! The path just seemed to disappear to nowhere and I really had no idea what I might have done wrong.

The sides of the gorge, though not vertical, were incredibly steep (about 50m high) and covered in loose rocks, sand and loosely held grass and moss. I investigated a few possible routes out of the gorge, as I didn’t want to waste any time retracing my steps all the way back to Þórsmörk. After a few failed attempts two more walkers came along, a French couple – he spoke English quite while, though I understood exactly what she meant with the words ‘c’est ferme’ accompanied with a puzzled look. We chatted for a few minutes, wondering what we could have done wrong, all agreeing that this was the way to go. When a second couple turned up, Belgians I think, we were reassured that we couldn’t all be that stupid as to walk into a dead end gorge without some good reason. After a short chat, the two couples decided to retrace their steps and headed off. I was determined to get out of the gorge as soon as possible, so after retracing a couple of hundred metres found a suitable point to start my ascent. Though steep and very unstable, I managed to traverse around the most difficult parts and luckily found my way out from under a small overhang towards the top.

As I climbed over the top I was incredibly pleased to see two large white bags of gravel that were being used to repair the footpath behind them. On this occasion the risk had been worth it and I was very pleased to be back on the route.

The path continued up towards the pass, in some places it was quite steep and at one point there was a fixed chain to help walkers across a more exposed section. Towards the top I approached cloud level, which slowly came down to restrict my view, though not before I got a few photos. After crossing a couple of permanent snowfields I passed by a small lake at the top, fed by a small extension of the Mýrdalsjökull glacier with a number of (very) small icebergs in it.

This was the top, so downhill all the way to Skógar. Just one final obstacle though….a glacier crossing. Only a short one, and perhaps it was officially just a permanent snowfield, but this was more difficult than any other permanent snow fields I had crossed so far. The surface was incredibly slippery and covered in melt water, so that I was only able to cross with the help of my trekking poles. To make things worse, there were a number of drain holes, with small trickles of melt water flowing into each. At most the holes were no bigger than myself, so that I didn’t think I would have fallen to the bottom of the glacier – but wasn’t going to try and find out. I made my way across very slowly, trying to keep as far from the holes as possible.

The last section of the walk was indeed all downhill, following a four-wheel drive track. I was hoping to be able to follow the river, seeing all the waterfalls that I had read about, with views of the Atlantic and finishing at Skogafoss, a 60m high waterfall marking the end of the walk. Instead the cloud came down even further giving me very little visibility, so I just had to trudge my way down the track to Skógar…….waiting till the next day to see Skogafoss.

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I camped at Skógar that night, catching the bus the next day back to Reykjavík. As I was waiting at the bus stop both the French and Belgian couples arrived. They had managed to get out of the gorge and made their way to the pass, but by the time they got there the visibility was so low that they were unable to make the glacier crossing. They were forced to make an unplanned stopped at the nearby hut and were led round the glacier the next morning by one of the wardens.

The night of the 19^th of August I again stayed with Bjorn Tryggvason, and would like to thank Málbjörg for taking me out to a very fine restaurant, before flying back  to Britain on the 20^th.

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Map of the route

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Distances, weights and times

Icelandic Pronunciation

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Page created by Dominic Edward