We have just purchased two return tickets to Reykjavik for late August. Unfortunately, Faroe will remain the faraway islands during this trip. We decided to save Faroe for another year when we have more time. Our trip was squeezed down to two weeks in part to take advantage of lower flight tickets in September and also because of work and school. Our time in Iceland will actually be digging in to my first week of school, well aware of where my priorities stand. Since our trip last year through Denmark, Faroe and Iceland, we have contemplated the idea of our unfinished business in these lands. Iceland loomed in my mind greatly. The aborted Laugavegurin trek with the added climb up between the glaciers on Eyjafjellajokull and back down to the coast had seemed too much a missed opportunity.
August-September 2012: a recollection of events leading to the aborted trek
The sleepless nights of travel from the flight to Denmark and the trains and buses across Denmark to the ferry terminal were wearing us down. When we boarded the ferry and entered our cabin, we didn't last long before crashing on the bed. We awoke late that evening, missing the departure from mainland and stepping out to the faint and distant lights of the seaside towns Norway's jagged coast. On the last night of our two day sailing, we awoke hours before dawn to watch the lighthouses on Nolsoy appear far in the distance and to witness the silhouette of Faroe's mountains slowly approaching from the sea.
Disembarking the ferry, we were excited but still worn down. We had no regularity to our sleep. On that early morning, we had no precise plans. We had familiarized ourselves with Faroe enough but were feeling weighed down by packs, damp air, and poor sleep. We were chilled too, having made the decision to dress one layer lower and purchase Faroese sweaters on our arrival. We decided to take the first available bus and set off for Klaksvik and the northern islands with their tall and steep mountains. We slept in our tent through two days of heavy wind and rain
before setting out to find sweaters.
In the following days, we took advantage of the weather and headed to the peaks and saddles of the Faroese mountains. On one day, setting out by helicopter to Fugloy, the weather gradually worsened and the wind picked up, whipping up the rain, leaving us to find refuge after an aborted attempt to pass the mountain road into the islands only other village. That day, we were nearly stranded on the isolated island of Fugloy in a gale, as the post boat and ferry approached the jetty, before deciding against the landing and setting off back to Hvannasund, without us. We were lucky enough to be let in by two Islanders for tea to wait the storm out in hopes for a second attempt at a successful landing in the evening by the postal boat, Ritvan. That evening, the seas and skies calmed, and beyond the cliffs and fog off Svinoy, we watched the ship emerge and gradually approach, as waves crashed over the jetty. Ritvan managed a landing and we jumped onto the rolling ship to head back to the larger islands and our base
camp in Klaksvik.
The day of our time in Faroe, we packed up the tent in morning dew and travelled back to Torshavn for the ferry to Iceland. With an approaching hurricane, we sailed hurriedly across the North Atlantic. The ship rolled in the storm throughout the night, our drinks, books, and papers on the night table sliding onto the floor. As we slept, I held on to Jane and wedged my feet between the mattress and frame of the bed to prevent us from sliding off the bed. That morning, we awoke in silence, the boat was still; we were docked in
Seyðisfjorður. With wobbly legs, we disembarked the ship and left the customs terminal gripping each other in the
fierce wind.
The wind soon died off as our taxi climbed the mountains towards the airport. The flights that morning were cancelled, but
resumed in the afternoon, and we took off and landed safely in Reykjavik. The sun came out
late as we made our way to the Reykjavik camp ground. Our
intentions were to camp the following night in Hveragerði and make our
way to Landmannalaugar by bus and hike the Laugavegurin, but we both knew that
we were too wiped out. Our bags were packed with our base camp tent and
while only 3.5 kg we were still overburdened. Our packs were lighter
than average, but the sleepless nights, wind and rain were getting the
best of us. To make our way out of Reykjavik and on to Hveragerði, we
took a Golden Circle tour and requested to be dropped off in the town.
The rain was steady the entire day and many on the tour were unprepared, wearing
jeans, and sneakers with light cotton sweaters and carrying umbrellas. I admit, we this plan worked to our advantage, we made the best of that rainy day.
Our gear had been put to the test on this trip and performed well, but we needed a good nights sleep. In the town of Hveragerði, we decided against camping and booked a room at a guest house. We organized ourselves. We bought food, cleaned our tent and laid it out to dry, repacked and tested our pack weight. We decided to ditch our planned hike and instead travel to Thorsmork to set up camp and do day hikes through the area.
Thorsmork is a spectacular place, a rare birch-wood forest nestled under the north side Eyjafjallajokull and Goðaland. The hiking trails lead in all directions to the glacial tongues of Myrðalsjokull and Eyjafjallajokull, north towards the interior and the steaming Landmannalaugar, through deep canyons, across ridges, onto plateaus, and up the steep cone shaped mountain of Rjupnafell. The weather during the days were sunny and warm, and we relaxed and hiked as we pleased. Although Thorsmork was a last ditch effort to get into the interior, it was well worth it, but we hastily purchased our return tickets for a few days later than we had packed food. As the days passed, the quality of out food was running thin.
The temperatures were dropping in those final days. Nights inside the tent were dropping into the negatives, and we awoke to snow on the nearby mountains. Not an unusual site, especially in mid September, but our bodies were unsatisfied and we were getting fatigued and cold, uncomfortable and in poor spirits. Jane was too cold to step out in the middle of the night to watch her long desired dream of finally seeing the northern lights. I was getting ill. We wouldn't make use of our time here anymore, either by hiking or otherwise enjoying ourselves. We needed to pack up and wait for the return bus to Reykjavik. We decided to leave Thorsmork a day early.
We had overextended ourselves on this trip. We had planned to not plan, attempting to do as we please. I wanted to get away from schedules and truly wander. In that style of travel, you have to expect things will not go perfectly, but it's better than planning the perfect trip only to realize that plans get in the way of true adventure. We enjoyed making decisions as we went, but what kept us back were our packs. We were well set up for base camp, but not for wandering. To be prepared for anything, it's just as important to be fast and light; to be able to pack up and go without a heavy burden wherever you wish. In this mentality, everything you bring goes with you everywhere. You don't leave a pack behind to explore, forced to return that evening to reclaim your possessions.
Iceland and Faroe can get the better of anyone and travellers should learn to enjoy having days off, being cold and windblown. There is nothing unusual with being in low spirits in these areas. But there has to be some underlying appreciation of it; knowing and understanding what went wrong. Our trip in August will be a return to that mentality, but we can be better prepared. Our packs are now half the weight, a base weight of less than 4kg each, including a slightly heavier, well stuffed and well designed two person sleeping bag (see note below); smaller, lighter, and more versatile packs; and the equipment we learned to love on our wet and windy trips: our boots, waterproofs, and Icebreaker...everything. Our modified Mountain Hardwear tent. No stove, no pots, no bowls no cups.
Our gear had been put to the test on this trip and performed well, but we needed a good nights sleep. In the town of Hveragerði, we decided against camping and booked a room at a guest house. We organized ourselves. We bought food, cleaned our tent and laid it out to dry, repacked and tested our pack weight. We decided to ditch our planned hike and instead travel to Thorsmork to set up camp and do day hikes through the area.
Thorsmork is a spectacular place, a rare birch-wood forest nestled under the north side Eyjafjallajokull and Goðaland. The hiking trails lead in all directions to the glacial tongues of Myrðalsjokull and Eyjafjallajokull, north towards the interior and the steaming Landmannalaugar, through deep canyons, across ridges, onto plateaus, and up the steep cone shaped mountain of Rjupnafell. The weather during the days were sunny and warm, and we relaxed and hiked as we pleased. Although Thorsmork was a last ditch effort to get into the interior, it was well worth it, but we hastily purchased our return tickets for a few days later than we had packed food. As the days passed, the quality of out food was running thin.
The temperatures were dropping in those final days. Nights inside the tent were dropping into the negatives, and we awoke to snow on the nearby mountains. Not an unusual site, especially in mid September, but our bodies were unsatisfied and we were getting fatigued and cold, uncomfortable and in poor spirits. Jane was too cold to step out in the middle of the night to watch her long desired dream of finally seeing the northern lights. I was getting ill. We wouldn't make use of our time here anymore, either by hiking or otherwise enjoying ourselves. We needed to pack up and wait for the return bus to Reykjavik. We decided to leave Thorsmork a day early.
We had overextended ourselves on this trip. We had planned to not plan, attempting to do as we please. I wanted to get away from schedules and truly wander. In that style of travel, you have to expect things will not go perfectly, but it's better than planning the perfect trip only to realize that plans get in the way of true adventure. We enjoyed making decisions as we went, but what kept us back were our packs. We were well set up for base camp, but not for wandering. To be prepared for anything, it's just as important to be fast and light; to be able to pack up and go without a heavy burden wherever you wish. In this mentality, everything you bring goes with you everywhere. You don't leave a pack behind to explore, forced to return that evening to reclaim your possessions.
Iceland and Faroe can get the better of anyone and travellers should learn to enjoy having days off, being cold and windblown. There is nothing unusual with being in low spirits in these areas. But there has to be some underlying appreciation of it; knowing and understanding what went wrong. Our trip in August will be a return to that mentality, but we can be better prepared. Our packs are now half the weight, a base weight of less than 4kg each, including a slightly heavier, well stuffed and well designed two person sleeping bag (see note below); smaller, lighter, and more versatile packs; and the equipment we learned to love on our wet and windy trips: our boots, waterproofs, and Icebreaker...everything. Our modified Mountain Hardwear tent. No stove, no pots, no bowls no cups.
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