Would you like some ice with that? A visit to Skaftafellsjökull Glacier

Iceland really does have an ice cap atop the island.  It's called Vatnajokull.  The average thickness of the ice is 400 m (1,300 ft), with a maximum thickness of 1,000 m (3,300 ft). Beneath this huge ice field is a whole array of volcanos and fissures, many of which are still quite active.  This ice field is surrounded by glaciers that have been oozing downhill, as it were, for hundreds of years now.  They are mostly receding now, due to the effects of climate change, and have left many kilometers of gravel and rock behind in its path to the sea.

Skaftafellsjökull glacier

One of the "easiest" ones to visit is Skaftafellsjökull glacier, "just steps away" from the parking lot... I hasten to add that Miami is also "just steps away" from Seattle, too... in reality though, the glacier is only about a thirty minute fast"stroll" through low scrubby terrain.  Less than two miles.

After five minutes, it doesn't seem to be getting any closer.

After ten minutes, we left George and Pat behind.

After fifteen minutes, the trail changed from flat gravel to a rockier path.  It was at this point where some skinny little 98+ year old Asian lady charged up the trail towards me like I was standing still. Damn her, nobody likes a showoff! As you can surely imagine, especially with my being young, masculine, and virile like Rambo (and totally exhausted from previous hikes on previous days... and they were uphill, into the wind, both ways!*), I might have allegedly been a little embarrassed that she was overtaking me so rapidly.  So... I did the only reasonable thing:  I shaded my eyes from the sun and scanned back toward the parking lot... pretending to be looking and waiting for someone... all the while trying not to breath too heavily!

After twenty minutes of huffing, puffing, and trekking, I discovered a really nice, brand-new, baby carriage abandoned along the path, all alone next to the rocks, it's little wheels looking pitifully inadequate for the task at hand.. (Do they make motorized ATV prams with tundra tyres?)

After about twenty-five minutes I was beginning to wonder what the... then there it was.  Cool, frosty, huge, dirty, sooty, treacherous, were the words that came to mind.  I love glaciers.

Although it's a little difficult, if you squint (a lot) and peer along the base of the glacier, you can see two people walking along the face... no, no, not those, the Other two!  I think I can see the tumultuous tourist crowds of... um... four adult people down there.  I didn't see any toddlers, though.

The case of the abandoned rubber-bumpered baby buggy, and where the toddler might have toddled off to... remains "open".

Okay, okay, If you don't want to squint, let me zoom in with the ol' Z-Key...  See 'em now?  Is there a kid with them???

I wonder... did they see the sign that suggested it was probably not a good idea to climb across the glacier?  Why, you ask?  Glaciers have crevasses, or cracks in the ice, that may only go down ten meters or so, or forty meters, or...

Oh.  And they have moulins, too.  Moulins are the holes or wells that drain meltwater from the top of the glacier to the base gravel.  I think that one should always avoid stepping into these, at least during the early part of your day, in order to continue enjoying your afternoon.  And your life.  If the fall doesn't do you immediately lethal harm, you should be probably be aware that your badly broken body will more that likely be laying in water that's 2 degrees Celsius.  The good news!?  Your consciousness and your pain's not going to last very long.

Oh, did I mention quicksand?  No, really.  Quicksand forms when large blocks of ice break away from the glacier and melt on mud or sand.  It is not always visible, so the caution remains:  always walk on coarser gravel.  Sounded legit to me, so I stayed on the ruff stuff.

Looks like what they call "bergy bits" off the Antarctic coast.  Might not sink your boat, but it'd be sure to rattle your teeth.

The clear blue ice is eons old, pure, except for a few germs that may have survived a few thousand years, and very, very cold.  I purloined (yes, blatantly stole) some this out of a bay in Antarctica a couple of years ago.  Loaded it into the floor of the zodiac and hauled it back to the ship to share with everyone, and that ice lasted for hours laying in a big sink.  That stuff's so COLD... "How cold is it?"  ...it's SO COLD that a chunk will still be in your glass on your third scotch.  Maybe even more.
Your mileage may vary.

You know, I think that it's almost time for me to check my own mileage.  I believe I'll head back to the hotel to get a double scotch, get naked, get horizontal, and get some shut-eye.  In that precise order.

We got ice for our drinks today, but tomorrow, we're gonna get rowdy and SHOOT THE BIRDS.  A lot of birds.  Then for a nice on-board fresh seafood buffet like you've never been to before.   Did I say "fresh"?  Oh, baby!

Until then...


*  (...and the patch with the bull in it)

On the way to Dyrhólaey... Beaches, Cliffs, Arches, and Stacks

Can black beaches be that pretty?  Some sayeth "No"?  Well let's see...

But first, while Winnie and her folks were having breakfast, I strolled a couple hundred meters over to Vík í Mýrdal town's black volcanic beach for a preview of the day's coming attractions, where I shot an image of those spires in the distance.  Those spires are basalt pinnacles in the ocean just off the cliffs of Reynisfjall.  Legend has it that they were formed when two trolls attempted to drag a three-masted ship to shore. The plan failed when the sun came up and turned the trolls into rock pinnacles, stranded just off shore forever.

Reynisdranger Trolls, frozen forever in time by the break of dawn...

Unlike this particularly warm and sunny day, the sea around the Reynisdranger is often quite stormy and rough.  For this reason there is a monument to the memory of drowned seamen there on the beach.  Sadly, I didn't see a monument to the trolls.  Too bad.


Our first stop of the morning was Halsanefshellir cave.  Talk about easy access, we drove into a sparsely populated parking lot, parked, and strolled about 50 meters... and there it was.

Halsanefshellir Cave

Halsanefshellir Cave is a vaulted cavern on the beach of Reynisfjall.  It's made from columns of basalt rising from a black sandy beach and was created during the volcanic eruption that formed the island oh... maybe about 100 thousand years ago.  Or so.  Does this remind anyone else of a pipe organ just off the apse in a cathedral?

These columns form an easily climbable series of steps for ten or twelve meters up the hillside. The columns are  hexagonal and made me think about a honeycomb.  You too?

Oh, and that beach everyone's on?  When the weather is normal (bad) that beach can be gone in a few minutes as tides around here can reportedly range up to six or seven meters.  That's a lot of water movement, and no matter how strong a swimmer you think you are, you're not going to beat the tides, winds and/or undertows here in this part of our hemisphere.

But enough of this.  I can see Dyrhólaey (Door Hole Island) off in the distance.  And it beckons..

For many years, boats were launched from Dyrhólaey when people still rowed out to sea to fish. 
I sat on a rock on the edge of the cliff and pondered that a bit... Row boats?  Today was a magnificently beautiful day by Icelandic standards... any season, bar none.  (Immediately prior to our arrival a few days ago, though, one of the locals told me that they had experienced fifty (50) consecutive days of high winds and rain.)  I tried to imagine these tough sailors rowing heavy wooden boats through the wind, rain, and waves to GO fishing, instead of running from the storm...  I've been in some pretty rough seas before, but not in a dang wooden boat!  Criminy!  I imagined some souls quaking, and swallowing their fear to press on, to satisfy the need to feed the family. Inwardly, I wondered... "Would I do it?"  

Would you?  

Four legs on the ground, one spindly one off the edge.

Voilà!

Haha, just kidding.  This is Winnie's pic off her point-and-shoot pocket camera.  An old Panasonic Lumix.  (I covet that camera behind her back.  Is that a bad thing?)

Winnie's pic of Dyrhólaey.  Sun was in her eyes, couldn't see little screen in back.  She pointed.  She shot.  And she got a WINNER  !

except... she needs her peeps in the pic for perspective.

 Our traveling companions, Winnie's Dad and Mom, 

George and Pat

Another view of "Door Hole Island" (loose translation from Icelandic)

It's kind of cool to note that there are three, doorways beneath the promontory's cliffs at water level.  That one on the left is the largest, and boats of up to 30 tons can pass through it.  And although it's unthinkable to me, some daredevil pilot flew his airplane right through the door.  Who would do such a thing?!

Dyrhólaey

A view of  Dyrhólaey from the beach.  Light breeze, warm sunshine.  Shiny black pebbles crunching underfoot that seem to sparkle ebony light along the beach always just ahead of me as I strolled, marching along between me and the sun..  The smell and taste of the salt air.  Truly a magical place on our tiny blue planet.  There are so many things that I dearly wish all my friends could see, just once in their lives.  

Dyrhólaey, boasts steep cliffs (perpendicular is about as steep as you can get) that extend upward from the sea to it's highest point (there on the left) measuring 115 meters.  That's a long way down, when viewed from the top.

Can't (don't want) to guess how high that is?  Here's what it looks like up close and personal...

Haha, nice shadow, huh? - Ace Photographer at your service

Icelanders place great stock in preserving nature, both by word and deed.  Dyrhólaey was declared a nature reserve in 1978 to protect both the landscape and the ecosystem of the area, particularly the birdlife which is rapidly dwindling due to climate change.  During May and June, access to the area is strictly limited due to the nesting season.  If you go off-trail, be very careful where you step.  The locals carefully harvest small amounts of eider from the ducks nesting on the ground, always leaving some to protect the eggs and, later, the chicks.

I would hesitate to call Iceland a nanny state...  There are no fences on the edge of the cliffs.  One may step as close as desired, sometimes closer than even kinda-good sense would allow.  (I don't do that.  But, WINNIE does!)

I like to call this image:  "Dammit Winnie"

Don't you think that's a good name for this image... Winnie likes doing this... she has dozens like it just to aggravate me!  Next time you see her, ask her to kindly refrain from this kind of cr@p.

Thank you.

Now.  Doesn't this look more relaxing?  A lot more safe than that dang daredevil Winnie?  Just leaning back in a cool breeze, taking in the warmth of the sun... eyes slowly closing from the brightness.. head slightly nods..

Just a couple of years ago, a couple inadvertently trod upon some of those crumbly million year old rocks and... well, birds and crabs gotta eat too.  Nope.  No nanny state here.

A lighthouse was built on the promontory in 1910.  Trivia Alert!  The present structure (est. 1927) has the largest lens of any lighthouse in Iceland.  Why anyone would want/need to know that, I haven't the vaguest idea.  But now, you and I do.  Off to the bars to win some bets!

Well, shunning common sense, I headed toward "The Edge", on hands and knees, to shoot some Kittiwakes...

Peering off the edge, searching the ledges for birds and BINGO...  

Perched just below the edge was this kittiwake.  She didn't have a care in the world as I watched her from a few meters away, seemingly happy and contentedly perched there on her rock in the sun.

Hanging off the edge seemed a little dicey on that crumbly old rock, so I took a couple of pot-shots at a couple of the airborne kittiwakes...

 

Finally, it's time to pack up the camera and the sticks and head out for more adventures in Iceland, land of fire and ice.

Day three - cont'd

The middle of day three finds us heading for yet another waterfall.  Sigh.  It couldn't possibly be as pretty as Seljanlandsfoss.  Or could it?

Skogafoss is considered to be one of Iceland's most beautiful waterfalls.  (Ed note:  I haven't seen an ugly one yet.)  Some are small and intricate, some are large and majestic.  For Iceland, I'm going to have to rate this one as (SPOILER ALERT) "majestic" by Icelandic standards.  

And Skogafoss is only one of twenty or more falls in the local area below Eyjafjallajokull and Myrdalsjokull glaciers.  And do you know what it costs in kroner/u.s. dollars to visit?  That would be nada... and nada.

Drive up, park, and walk to the falls, or anywhere you're brave enough to venture. Remember, this is not America, or even Europe.  There aren't any fences between you and cliffs, waters, or even eternity.  Your choice.  I hope that it's a wise choice, Grasshopper.

The Skoka river above opens to a wide flat rocky area on the moor before rushing off the edge 25 meters wide and falling 62 meters to the pool underneath the falls.  Are you getting comfortable with the metric system now?  Visually, 62 meters = about 2/3 of an American football field).

The waterfall generates a huge amount of spray and noise.  As I approached the tempest, I drank in the roar of the falls, the super-coolness of the wind in my face coming off the falls, and the irony of being able to look upward through the swirling mists to see a bright sunny day just above.  And I know that most of you will consider this odd, but the thought came to me that the place... smelled fresh.  A clean scent.  No chemicals added, no Pine-sol, just Mother Nature doing her thing.  Ahhh, peace.

According to legend, the first Viking settler in the area, Þrasi Þórólfsson, buried a treasure in a cave behind the waterfall. The legend continues that locals found the chest years later, but were only able to grasp the ring on the side of the chest before it disappeared again. The ring was allegedly given to the local church. The old church door ring is now in a museum.

Skogafoss

The chest in Þrasi's lair

Under the Skogar waterfall

Rewards the one who ventures there

With endless riches, great and small.

Day three - Seljalandsfoss, Skogafoss, other random fosses, and Skaftafellsjokull Glacier! Excited?

After a really good night's sleep, we're off to see fosses.  A lot of fosses.  They're everywhere!  And all... simply beautiful.  The first thing one starts to look for is steam rising up in the distance from mother earth... Always head for the rising mists...

  

Here, Winnie tries to get a first photo of Seljalandsfoss.  Unfortunately it was a very crowded day out here in the boonies, and she had to walk... yes, walk I say... almost thirty meters to get a pic without the hoards of tourists that abound in Iceland.  Will it be worth the hike?  Okay, how 'bout 10 meters?

Ah, yes.  Well worth twice or triple the hike.

As our little trek brought us ever closer the cool mists, I noticed that the nearer we came to the base of the falls, the windier it got from the cooling waters falling from high above us.  It reminded me of the downdraft from a thunderstorm, only in miniature.   I could almost feel the ground quake beneath my feet, and the roar of the water was intense, especially behind the falls.  Feeling the vibration in my chest, I wondered if it was caused by the pounding water falling into the river, or just my heart pounding from the excitement and grandeur of it all.  I am still unsure

Seljalandsfoss

 I went around the right side of the falls... most direct route.  My camera shooting finger just itching for a chance... Winnie went over the bridge and around the left side of the falls...  Can you see which way the mists are drifting?  To the left, haha?  Anybody?  Ferris?

The thrill of Victory, and...

...and the wetness of "de feet"

Winnie makes it behind the foss, the fun way!

Play Misty for Me

Loved Seljalandsfoss.  Now off down the road to Skogafoss.  Will we see anything "interesting" and "Icelandic" along the way? Will it be as exciting as Seljalandsfoss?  Who knows?  Who cares!  

It's "On the Road Again" just to see what's around the corner... over the hill... 

Wouldn't you just know it? Another "foss".  I should stop taking pictures of waterfalls... they're all magnificent, even this un-named one (of hundreds).  It may be difficult, though, as my camera has turned into a witching stick for waterfalls!  And they all, big and small, make my trigger finger itch. No more foss pics.  I should probably make that my "Mantra of the Day".  Think it'd work?  (Snork)

I included this pic just because I was intrigued by the snow fence behind the farm buildings.  On one hand, it's a cool natural way to build a snow fence.  On the other hand... there could be a LOT of snow built up before it starts to slide.  Would you feel safe and comfy living in that big farmhouse?

What a cool place to live.  Ultra rich volcanic soil in front for your hay, mountains behind, and it's all topped with a huge ice field.  Ice fields up top form where the snow never completely melts, building deeper and deeper as the centuries wander slowly by.  Time and gravity push the ice downward in the form of outflow glaciers that completely encircle the Iceland ice cap.

While this place is scenic beyond words, there lurks a monster within the ice fields.  The Eyjafjallajokull volcano awakened one sparkling day in April, 2010.  Unfortunately it was beneath several hundred feet of solid ice cap.  The volcano blew it's guts out with much of the molten lava expanding sideways under the ice field.  Then some things started going bad... the ice rapidly melted forming water and steam.  Think really high pressure building in a stopped-up pressure cooker with the burner turned up way past good sense.  Next, the lava flow ebbed and water started falling back towards the molten lava.  That's when the you-know-what hit the fan with a spectacularly explosive eruption.  If you remember, it's 30,000' ash cloud paralyzed air traffic in the North Atlantic and eastward across Northern Europe.

The Eyjafjallajolull eruption also threatened those living in it's shadow.  Icelanders never give up, though.  Farming continued and crops and animals were tended and cared for.  Man and nature have learned to coexist through good times and bad in the land of fire and ice.  My hat's off to ya, Iceland.

There's a major volcanic eruption somewhere in Iceland every three years.  Let's see, when was that last one again?  Uh oh, the island is already a year overdue for another "big one".

We've been home about a week.  Look what I just saw in the WSJ:  http://online.wsj.com/articles/iceland-evacuates-people-living-near-bardarbunga-volcano-1408536550

That must be why they call Iceland the land of fire and ice.

The horses and sheep gotta be able to eat all Winter, too, such that we saw literally thousands and thousands of rolls of hay in the fields awaiting a trip to the barns. 

I'm a sheep.  This is where I work.  Seven days a week.  Almost all year.  I'm in charge of fiber, milk, and meat production.  When the weather's really bad, I just hang around my home... see next image.

 This is my crib.  It's safe, warm and dry.  And it's two-storied, if you count the "den" in back.  I call it my Ram Cave.  Ewe should drop by some evening and I'll show you my etchings.

 These two lower floors are where I eat, drink, and

 well, ewe know.  (Wink)  Ewe sure ewe don't want to see my etchings?  

Odd by USA standards, eh?

This is what's referred to as livestock multi-family living.

And I believe that's the first barn that I've ever seen built INTO a mountain.  But I don't get out much.  As I mentioned, people here have learned to live in harmony with Mother Nature.  Cooperate and graduate.  Or fight nature and perish.  Your choice. 

Stay tuned, we're hitting the road again.  Next stop Skogafoss.

Thinking back, I may have vowed not to inconvenience any more pixels with waterfall images.  

Ahem, about that unfortunately rash promise... 

Day 2, cont'd. Keep drivin', Winnie. We're burning daylight.

 Looking Southwest toward Gullfoss Falls

Gullfoss and the surrounding area were made a nature preserve in 1979.  The area's ecosystem is also protected, and it's vegetation remains pretty well untouched.  Attempts are still being made every single day to minimize man's footprint, to keep man-made structures to a minimum, and to not disturb the land and geological formations.

Toss your camera rig on your shoulder and let's head up the creek to see what it looks like looking back toward the Northeast...

Never would I have ever dreamed that I'd be taking vacation snapshots in Iceland... but I'm sure glad I made it to the party.

 Time to pack up and make a run for the Hotel.  We heard that it was a 4 Star hotel.  I hope so.

 Ooh, check out that second shelf from the top.  They've got some, um... adequate scotches there.  I started my flight on the right side of the second shelf and only made it as far as the Monkey Shoulder Single Malt Scotch Whisky.  And the cognacs on the top shelf?  Righteous.  Their 'little wine fridge' had started off with names like Chateau neuf du Pape, Dom, Bollinger (champagne, Mr Bond?).

   

 While I was drooling on the floor in front of the scotch bar, Winnie (the Beer Hunter) found an interesting local bier that I thought, btw, was pretty darn good.

This was a rather unusual flower... It reminded me of Mother Nature's answer to July Fourth pyrotechnics...   It explodes in the middle, flinging the bomblets outward to explode yet again and again.  

Does anyone know what this is?

G'night, all.

And now, the whole crew bids you all a fond adieu, from Somewhere on the island of Iceland.

Day 2 - Heading for Gullfoss, Iceland

Day 2:
Reykjavik

Our second day's adventure started with breakfast, of course.  It was actually quite the nice spread, and I have to admit there were a lot of fish dishes.  For breakfast.  And nothing smelled... well, fishy...  I think all the breakfast seafood that I sampled were still living in the ocean a couple of days prior.  Fresh fish don't smell... well, fishy.  I think that I'm going to get accustomed to that quickly.

After breakfast we headed Eastbound out Hiway 36 with adventure in our hearts, the adrenalin inducing excitement of the unknown just ahead, a GPS that only speaks Icelandic, over Icelandic roads (many even paved), looking at signs we didn't understand.  Let's see, load the GPS with Pingviller or Mossbaer and that'll get us out of town.  After that, we'll just follow the GPS or map. No worries. 

Heading out of Reykjavik, one of the first things I noticed was the beautiful farmland.  The farms themselves appeared not only quite big, but certainly professionally run. 

The hills behind the farm are lava cinder, gradually being worn down by rain, wind, snow... and time. One can easily see where the greenery is creeping up the hill, and ever so gradually creating a bit more pasture for the sheep and horses that live here.  Patience, please... it'll be ready in just a few hundred more years.

It seemed to me, that after passing three or four of the mega-farms, there would almost always be a country church. 

Ahhhh.  And if that scene wasn't pastoral enough... it also highlighted those spectacular little Icelandic ponies peacefully enjoying the morning's offering of lush damp greenery. 

I cannot fathom a trek through Iceland without making a bit more mention of those tough, tough little horses.

The breed was brought to the island in the 9th and 10th centuries by Scandinavian settlers.  Natural selection contributed a lot to the early horses .  Tough winters, starvation, and being used for food all contributed a lot to these horses characteristic durability and hardiness.  Now, natural selection has given way to Selective Breeding programs to keep the line pure and cleanly Icelandic.

Here are a few pics of some of those ponies now, Helen:
I'll post a clip following this blog.

These are known as five gaited horses, two of which are typically Icelandic.  
The mane and tail are traditionally full, and although spirited and having lots of personality, they are quite docile around people.  They know no natural enemies.  

OMG Grette, did you trim your own mane!?  Ghaaaa.

The Icelandic Government has prohibited the import of horses.  Period.  The purpose is to keep the Icelandic breed genetically pure, just as it has been since the 10th century.  If one of the ponies is sold to someone outside Iceland, that horse may never return to its native land ever again.  Ever

 Shoot low, they're Icelandic!  

Yield Right-of-Way.  No exceptions.

A bit later:
We're way past Lugarvatn.  Aren't we close?
We're on 36.
No, we're on 37, see there's a sign right there
I thought we were supposed to be on 35 through Muli.  Are you sure that wasn't 37 km to... um, somewhere, I couldn't read it...
Ghaaaaaa!  We're past Geysir and Strokkur!
NO.  WAIT.  I see steam coming from around that corner!  And there's a tour bus out of Reykjavik! Yay, we've found Geysir!  Strokkur and Gullfoss gotta be somewhere around here...

The steam and hot water in the vicinity of Geysir and Strokkur is discharged through many acres of active fumaroles and geysirs. I thought it quite eerie looking and was surprised that, although sulfur abounded in the rivulets, streams and bogs, I don't recall it smelling bad...

I did see a lot of elemental looking sulfur just laying in the bogs, rivulets, and around the fumaroles. I can certainly see how Jules Verne's visit to parts of Iceland (just the ones I've seen, so far) inspired his book, "Journey to the Center of the Earth".

And just around the corner, and up the hill, the highly touted Geysir.  Oh.  About that... can we talk?

The mid-Atlantic ridge cuts Iceland into two parts, drifting away from each other at the rate of about 2 cm a year, leading to earthquakes, tremors, and shifting the flow of magma and water (and everything else) beneath the surface.

Poor ol' Geysir has been the victim of a few relatively recent earthquakes.  She's been opened up several times by the shifting techtonics, each time erupting madly 70-200 meters high many times a day.  A few years later, only 100 meters every few hours... and then.. a few meters, maybe two or three times a year...

Thank goodness that Strokkur was just down the hill, and gushing hot water and steam up and out about every 4-5 minutes.  Turns out that the geothermal areas in Iceland are divided into high temperature areas within the volcanic zone, and low temperature areas outside the zone.  Geysir and Stokkur are both in the High Temperature zone with a base temperature of around 250 degrees Celsius (100 C is boiling).

We were warned (once) to stay on the marked trails.  I thought yeah, yeah, don't make foot prints and blah blah blah.  Then my old ears caught the explanation... Some of the mantle on top of this geothermal area is quite thin.  One misstep might predictably lead a person to breaking through into some of the hot water.  One could break through for about a foot and get a horrible scalding burn on a foot... or break through for 10 meters?  A hundred meters?  Ouch!  Well, it wouldn't hurt that long I suppose...

Geiser Primer

Strokkur holding it's breath...

The water at the surface is barely 100 degrees C (slightly below boiling) while the deep water is 200-250 degrees C (480f) under intense pressure. 

The hot temperatures below heat the cooler surface water to well above the boiling point and water starts to rise in the throat expanding rapidly and forming Strokkur's characteristic bubble.

Superheated water rises forming a dome, or bubble.  You can just make out the steam beginning to form beneath the bubble.

Here, the bubble's surface is beginning to be breached by the hot steam.

Water and steam spout up through the middle of the bubble, with the geysir beginning to erupt more violently.

Ahh, relief!  (It needed that)

The shockwave sends the surface water outward through the pond...

Cooled, the water slowly drains back into the throat of the geysir as it catches its breath, awaiting more heat from below,
as the cycle repeats itself over and over again.  At least until the next tectonic shift.  And in Iceland, that could be tomorrow, or decades from now, who knows?

It was a long day today, the adventure spread over many hours and kilometers.  Well worth it to me and my fellow travelers, though!  The good news is the same as the bad news to a weary traveler: there's plenty of daylight left to head on down the road toward Gullfoss.

 Looking Southwest toward Gullfoss Falls

Gullfoss and the surrounding area were made a nature preserve in 1979.  The area's ecosystem is also protected, and it's vegetation remains untouched.  Attempts are still being made every single day to minimize man's footprint, to keep man-made structures to a minimum, and to not disturb the land and geological formations,

Pics from Gullfoss to follow...