In March 1999 I planned with my friend Florian Piper a
cross country ski expedition crossing Iceland starting from Ásbyrgi in Öxarfjörður
at the northeast coast of Iceland and finishing at Jökulsárlón in Öræfi
at the southeast coast. The distance is about 250 km, including some 75 km on
Vatnajökull, the largest glacier in Europe.
The reason we did this trip was both of us had for some
years wanted to cross the whole country from coast to coast, as well as the
expedition was part of Florian BA study in Outdoor Education at Strathclyde
University in Glasgow.
We also used the opportunity to make photographs for
our sponsors, VauDe in Germany and 66°N in Iceland as well as testing new
gear for them.
The northeast coast, Ásbyrgi.
We said goodbye to our driver Jónas
Gunnar Allansson in the afternoon
of Saturday 13th March and camped in Ásbyrgi in the National park Jökulsárgljúfur
in northeast Iceland. We felt kind of small in this 3 km long 1 km wide and
100 meter deep rock arena, Ásbyrgi, which with a rock island in the middle
looks like a giant horse shoe seen from the air. It is said that Ásbyrgi was
formed a long time ago when the Norse god Óðinn was riding his horse
Sleipnir in Miðgarður, (that is in our world). The horse had eight feet, and
he step once on Iceland and we can still see the footprint; Ásbyrgi.
After a short first day of hiking due to
whiteout conditions we spent the second night in Vesturdalur, a valley
known for spectacular rock formations such as Hljóðaklettar (Sound
rocks) where in some conditions people think they hear a river running
inside the rocks. (Actually it is only the echo of the river Jökulsá á
Fjöllum that runs close by the rocks).
The weather the first two days was not very
reassuring. The hike from Vesturdalur to our third camp at Dettifoss
waterfall was in total whiteout, so both of us had walked off some steep
snow walls, the pulkas rolling over and we really had hard time. But it
was nice feeling relaxing in the tent with the constant sound of Europe's
most powerful waterfall, Dettifoss in the ears.
Next day the weather was much better. We walked 20
km south to the main road, crossed it in the end of the day and stayed in
a hut called Péturskirkja. It was excellent to sleep in a bed again, and
the following morning we where ready to leave all civilization such as the
ring road behind. From there on, the next car we could expect to see would
be on the south coast of Iceland.
Good bye civilization!
Wednesday 17. March we camped close to Jökulsá á
Fjöllum about 70 km from our starting point at the north coast of
Iceland. This day started with bad weather against us but ended with sunny
and perfectly clear day. We heard in the radio that a man was missing some
30 km to the east of us, and some 200 people from rescue teams where
looking for him. According to the radio the weather was very bad there,
but we felt it was quite good compared with the first two days of our
expedition. (The guy was found later in the day, he had gotten his car
stuck on the main road and wandered off from the car and lost the sight of
the road).
That night in the tent we heard warnings about very strong
winds the following days. The following day we decided to try to get to a
small turf hut I knew that was close to the highland road to Herðubreið.
It was about 15 km to the south from our camp and the weather was supposed
to get worse around midday.
As we hurried southward to the point on the map where
we hoped to find the shelter, the weather got gradually worse. Around 11
o'clock the winds were blowing 30 m/sec and the visibility was down to 2-3
meters. Until then we had been able to follow the markings of the highland
road, but since there were some 50 meters between the sticks it was
impossible to find them in the blizzard. Now we could understand what that
poor fellow that lost the road the day before had to go through. But of
course we were much better prepared, good clothing, GPS and all, and we
could at anytime have stopped and bivouacked under a rock in the lava.
I was not sure if the hut was there anymore, and the
maps in Iceland are not very accurate, so when we could no longer stand on
our skis, and the pulkas started to roll over in the wind gusts, we where
just about to look for some place to bivouac, when I saw a small hill
close to us. When I came closer I noticed the hill had wooden door...it
was the hut!
It was great getting in the shelter even though it was full of snow
when we got there. Compared to staying outside in the wind this was like
heaven.
The next day the weather had calmed down and we decided
to try to make it to the hut in Herðubreiðarlindir but that is about 25 km
distance, and a rough lava and a cold river to cross on the way.
In the afternoon when we came to the river Lindaá the temperature was down to
-20°C, and it was quite painful to take off the boots, and cross the river
barefooted. I managed to get my stuff across in one trip, but poor Florian had
to cross the river 4 times since he divided his stuff into two loads.
Herðubreið, "the queen of Icelandic
mountains!"
We came to the hut in Herðubreiðarlindir around
midnight, after a long day of pulling and partly carrying the pulkas over the
lava Lindahraun. In the evening the temperature dropped down to -30°C, and
for some reason my pulka did not run so well on this very cold snow. I had to
put climbing skins under my skis to be able to pull the pulka on flat ground.
We were utterly exhausted when we entered the hut and it was very
disappointing to find out that there was no fuel in the hut and we could not
heat it. I had called the president of the touring club in Akureyri before we
started our trip to make sure we could use the hut, so I was quite furious.
Since the weather was bad again the following day we stayed
in Herðubreiðarlindir, trying to dry our equipment as best we could in this
damn cold hut.
That evening when I went outside to brush my teeth I
suddenly felt that something very evil was around me in the lava next to the
hut. I rushed inside again with a horrible feeling that something was going to
grab me from behind. I didn't speak a word to Florian about this, I was afraid
that he would tease me and make me even more scared.
The next day we left Herðubreiðarlindir in beautiful weather. When we had
walked few km south through the lava underneath Herðubreið, Florian came to me and said:
"Einar, I don't mind telling you now when the sun is shining, but last
night I was bloody scared there in Herðubreiðarlindir". It turned out
that Florian went through the same spooky experience as me when he went outside the
hut.
The steamy mountains Kverkfjöll.
This day we crossed the bridge over Jökulsá á
Fjöllum, and camped on the other side. The day after, Monday 22. March, the
weather was still nice and we camped in the hills 12 km north of the hut
Sigurðarskáli in Kverkfjöll. Kverkfjöll are 1800-1900 meters high
mountains on the north side of Vatnajökull. High up in the mountains are hot
springs, and steam is constantly blowing up from the mountains, when the
boiling water melds the glacier and the snow.
The hut Sigurðarskáli in the foothills of Kverkfjöll was
great, with its stove and plenty of firewood. The next day we had planned to
go on but the weather had changed again. It snowed about 30 cm of fresh snow,
and there was no visibility. So we stayed another night in the hut.
The weather had changed yet again on Thursday 25. March. We left the hut in
perfect weather but very deep snow. Climbing up from Sigurðarskáli in
altitude of 900 meters up to the small hut on top of Kverkfjöll in 1800
meters was hard as hell, dragging 50 kg pulkas in 30-50 cm deep powder snow.
But we made it, and with soar backs, and close to exhaustion we were thankful
to enter the small hut the Glacier Society has built up there.
Vatnajökull, Europe largest glacier.
Friday morning we entered Vatnajökull, the biggest ice cap in Europe. We knew
these last 75 km would be the hardest part of the expedition, and we really
hoped the weather would treat us nice. Vatnajökull in bad weather is not a
place I like to be. Me and Florian had already been beaten once by this giant
glacier; in February 1996 when we where trying to cross it from south to north
we had been stuck on middle of the ice cap for 5 days due to crazy winds and
had to turn back home when our friend, Henning got frostbite in his fingers.
But we were more lucky this time. The weather was just wonderful, at least to
begin with. We made almost 30 km this day, and spent the night in a snow cave
we dug into the icecap.
The Saturday the weather was still o.k. in the morning but we heard warnings
in the radio that storm was coming fast. We decided to make a super long day
to try to get to a hut in Esjufjöll, mountains in the south side of
Vatnajökull. This is a similar hut as the small hut on top of Kverkfjöll.
But later that day we got into radio contact with people from the company
Glacier Tours that were working on the southeast side of Vatnajökull, and
they told us the hut had disappeared. They had gone there the day before with
skidoos, and found out that the hut had been blown off the mountain in some of
the crazy storms this winter.
In the afternoon the weather changed, it started to snow a
lot and we lost all visibility. When we came to the south edge of the high plateau
of Vatnajökull where it streams down the valleys to the south coast of
Iceland, we simply had to stop. We realized that we were entering a crevasse
field with deep crevasses almost covered with the fresh snow. We pitched the
tent on a little ledge, between the crevasses and went to sleep.
During the night I woke up in crazy wind and became quite
worried that the tent would be blown off the ground. I got into all my outdoor
clothing to be ready, if the tent was destroyed, but surprisingly it withstood
the weather all through the night.
Sunday bloody Sunday.
Sunday 28. March we woke up in a tempest. We were
in the altitude of 1700 meters, and still had some 30 km to travel to get off
Vatnajökull. All our food was finished apart from some packets of freeze
dried food, that we did not fancy eating for breakfast, lunch and supper.
We shared the very last teabag, and tried to eat a packet
of dried food. The weather was too bad for me to put up the stove, but we still
had some water in our thermos from the night before.
When we got out of the tent we noticed that the
crevasses we had seen the day before had disappeared. This was not good news
because it meant that they were now completely covered with soft snow, that
would definitely not hold our weight.
We got our gear together, and roped up. Then I simply had
to plunge my ski pole into the snow in front of me for each step I made to try
to figure out where the crevasses were.
We where out of this horrible maze of death deep crevasses
after couple of hours, and as we got further down the valley Esjudalur, the
weather started to get better. We had few hours of comfortable weather, but
when we had some 10 km to go the conditions became complete "white
out" again. Plus, the snow became extremely deep, and heavy. The pulkas
were virtually buried in the snow, and very heavy to pull.
The last 10 km of our expedition were harder than
anything I have ever tried. To add to our problem the snow also became stuck
underneath our skis so our feet became many kg more heavy, we had eaten
nothing since 5 o'clock in the morning, and there was no visibility, so I had
to walk holding my compass or GPS in one hand all the time, so we could keep
the bearing, leaving only one hand to push me forward. I was so tired that I
thought I would vomit.
The southeast coast.
But we finally got off the glacier, and were greeted by
my father Sigurður Bjarnason, and Sigurður Gunnarsson from the local rescue
team, but they came to pick us up at the edge of the glacier next
to Jökulsárlón. We put our pulkas into the truck and went home, to have a
giant meal, hot bath, and a warm bed, and for some reason all tiredness and
pain was forgotten, and we couldn't stop smiling.
