Reykjavík Grapevine - 25.08.2006, Page 25

“So, are you ready?”
“Well, not exactly. But are there alternatives?”
The fifth day, I spend in uttermost solitude after
leaving the tourist hub Gullfoss on a Saturday morn-
ing. It’s not so surprising that I have picked the habit of
posing questions to myself. Perhaps more bizarre is the
fact that I even bother to answer. But now it is time for
the final climb, the last stage of the journey, something
I have been planning, looking forward to – and yet post-
poning – for the last three years, and finally I am about
to see it accomplished.
I have four days of walking behind me, roughly 100
km. Four days to cross from west to east the sector of
the highlands contained between the rivers Hvitá and
Þjórsá, two of Iceland’s mightiest rivers.
The walk officially started at Gullfoss, which I
admired for the first time from a privileged spot on the
eastern side. In the traveller’s loneliness, the geography
of memories often follows strange courses. Maybe you
are hiking known grounds, territories you’ve visited
before and should be charged with remembrances. Yet,
nothing happens: you remember, of course, but not as
a disturbance, you remain anchored to the moment,
focused on and enjoying each step you take.
A few days ago, I was there, on the rather anony-
mous pastures that stretch east from Gullfoss. And
then, for some reason, a tight web of associative
thoughts could not be prevented from enveloping my at-
tention: a sinuous and insidious chain of memories and
ref lections dragging me away from the present trail and
the fragrant smell of moss that enriched the air. The
weather probably did not help: not a single breath of
breeze, humid and rainy at night, and warm as is seldom
experienced in Iceland.
I constantly waited for a downpour, a sudden storm.
A f lood. This is not what you hope for when you are
alone in the highlands of the interior. I felt it was also
me: I was nervous, not at ease.
And then there is Monday, a new week and a heavy
set of changes. The wind turned and grew in intensity,
becoming a serious obstacle to every footstep. I realized
it at once, early in the morning, as I shyly peeped out my
tent and saw the clouds running fast across the sky. As it
happened, the trail was to raise the day the weather fully
hit me, up to a steady 700 metre rise, where the grassy
pastures have to leave way to barren and deserted lands.
But the wind and the climb had a reward. In the
afternoon, I stared at the green and rough waters of the
small lake Rjúpnafellsvatn, the wind had wiped out the
last wisp of clouds and blown down the walls of haze,
freeing the view of the the great glaciers in the far dis-
tance. Even in their mildest form, the highlands of the
interior make you taste the authentic f lavour of remote-
ness and forbiddingness, and when the horizon discloses
the sight of Vatnajökull and its snow-clad peaks, then
you become aware that you are experiencing the country
at its very best. No roads nor tracks, not even footprints:
only a desert stormed by the winds and an apparently
unlimited vastness in every direction. The exhilarating
sensation to perhaps be the first person to ever thread
the land in that exact point, the first one to ever be fol-
lowing that precise route on the highland.
The next day – the fourth –the wind continued,
merciless in its attempts at dissuasion. I followed
my own shadow cast on the arid soil, and a strangely
bittersweet sensation invaded me: a sense of old-time
exploration, when something still actually had yet to
be discovered, and gaps in a map had yet to be filled.
Eventually, after wading the fast-streaming waters of
the river Kisá, the impression that I was following an
invisible but clear route across the wild dissolved, melted
into the seemingly never-ending sequence of black
dunes that lay before my feet. The contours of the terri-
tory moved into its most surreal.
It was a bitter disappointment to find a closed hut
and only dry rivers when I finally arrived to Setur. Diz-
zy and thirsty, the search for drinkable water became
the dominant headache of the evening – and yet around
me I had the scenery of a triumphant sunset above the
nearby Hofsjökull glacier and wild oasis of Þjórsárver.
The Lonesome Traveller: Kerlingarfjöll
The Truly Enchanted Landscape of the Witches’ Mountain
by fabrizio frascaroli photos by fabrizio frascaroli
Icelandic topography sometimes presents you names
of terrible omen. Kerlingarfjöll – “the mountains of the
witch” – is among these. Not surprisingly, the place was
dreaded by the inhabitants of Iceland, who carefully
avoided it and did not dare to enter it for exploration
until the 1850s, in the conviction that the area was
infested by supernatural forces of every sort. I was here
once before in 2003, when a violent storm with thick
rains and 80 km/h winds surprised me on the moun-
tains.
Still, in spite of the ominous aura, Kerlingarfjöll
remains a miracle in Icelandic nature, by far one of the
most fascinating destinations the country can boast. Re-
member when – as a child – you used to draw mountains
as a stripe of snow-covered pyramids? If you had the im-
agination to add green, yellow, black and red colours to
the shapes, then you would already have a fair picture of
what Kerlingarfjöll looks like from a distance. Alpine in
look, and still volcanic in genesis, these mountains used
to host the only summer ski resort in Iceland, as well as
a legendary ski school – one which has left an indelible
legacy in the memory of many Icelanders – founded in
1963 by sport-guru Valdimar Örnólfsson.

Even though the skiing facilities had to be definitively
shut down late in the 1990s, following the disappear-
ance of the glaciers and of the perpetual snows, Kerlin-
garfjöll still has a lot to offer to the visitor: the sight of
one of the largest and most vibrant areas of geothermal
activity in all of Iceland, the possibility of most reward-
ing one-day and multi-day hikes, and – last but not
least – the comfort and warmth provided by the most
welcoming and best equipped hut you will encounter in
all the Highlands.
Kerlingarfjöll is like a castle, a sorceress’s one, with
tall pinnacles, thick and impassable walls, snares and
deep moats. A necromantic fortress that steals the hori-
zon.
As my GPS reads slightly more than 1000 m of alti-
tude, the first climb of the day is just at my back: a steep
ascent on a stony and unstable ground, but nothing
prohibitive. A pungent smell of sulphur already reaches
me here, on the outer walls: witchcrafts of the land in
the distance. But this is merely the beginning.
Many are the traps set on the way to the core of
the mountains, and it does not take long before I pass
from a first taste of triumph to desperation. The ravine
created by the springs of the river Kisá is deep and
inaccessible, much more than I expected by studying
the map – the waters run fast almost 200 m underneath
my current position, a precipitous fall along sheer, steep
climbable walls. I falter. Retreating and arriving at my
destination by the f lat and undemanding way around
the mountains would feel like a defeat – the second one
on this trip. Descending into the ravine, on the other
hand, looked like madness – the waters are tumultuous,
and still partly covered by unstable snow bridges: a web
of complications.
Unfortunately, in my present state of mind, madness
and recklessness feel like the right policy. Reaching the
bottom of the gorge is no problem. The rest is hell. I
have to follow the course of the river for a while, jump-
ing and crawling between gigantic stones hurled down
here from above, thick snow patches and traits of low
water. I hurt myself repeatedly. When I finally get to
cross the river, it turns out to be even deeper and more
violent than supposed. The stream kicks and pushes
me like a skittle. I reach the other side in a state of half
shock, my pants soaking wet up to the belt.
When it is time to climb up again, I realise I have
put myself in a dangerous position. Exhausted and wet,
I am at a slope, which is frightfully steep, the friable soil
“Icelandic topography sometimes presents you names of terrible
omen. Kerlingarfjöll – the ‘the mountains of the witch’ – is among
these. Not surprisingly, the place was dreaded by the inhabitants
of Iceland, who carefully avoided it and did not dare to enter it for
exploration until the 1850s, convinced that the area was infested
by supernatural forces of every sort.”
travel travel
Outside Reykjavík
Kerlingarfjöll
A relatively large percentage of foreign tourists in Iceland
travel around the country by car. Conditions in Iceland
are in many ways unusual, and often quite unlike that
which foreign drivers are accustomed. It is therefore very
important to find out how to drive in this country. We know
that the landscapes are beautiful, which naturally draws
the attention of driver away from the road. But in order
to reach your destination safely, you must keep your full
attention on driving.
This article is intended to point out the main dangers when
driving in Iceland, especially the unusual ones that may
come as a complete surprise to foreign drivers.
What are the speed limits?
The speed limit in urban areas
is usually 50 km/hr. Speed limit
signs are usually not posted
unless it is other than 50 km/hr.
The speed limit is often 60
km/hr on thruways, but in
residential areas it is usually
only 30 km/hr. The main rule on
highways is that gravel roads
have a speed limit of 80 km/hr,
and paved roads 90 km/hr.
Signs indicate if other speed
limits apply.
Gravel roads, blind hills &
blind curves
A common
place for
accidents to
occur on urban
roads is where
a paved road
suddenly changes to gravel.
The main reason is that drivers
do not reduce speed before
the changeover to gravel,
and consequently lose control.
Loose gravel on road shoulders
has also caused a great
number of accidents. When
driving on gravel roads—which
are often quite narrow––it is
important to show caution
when approaching another
car coming from the opposite
direction by moving as far to
the right as is safely possible.
Blind hills––where lanes are
not separate––can be very
dangerous, and should be
approached with caution.
There are also many blind
curves in Iceland that test a
driver’s skill.
Single-lane bridges
There are many
single-lane
bridges on the
Ring Road.
The actual
rule is that the
car closer to the bridge has
the right-of-way. However, it
is wise to stop and assess the
situation, i.e. attempt to see
what the other driver plans to
do. This sign indicates that a
single-lane bridge is ahead.
Livestock on the road
In Iceland, you can expect
livestock to be on or alongside
the road. It is usually sheep,
but sometimes horses and
even cows can be in your
path. This is common all over
the country, and can be
very dangerous. Sometimes
a sheep is on one side of
the road and her lambs
on the other side. Under
these conditions––which are
common––it is a good rule to
expect the lambs or the sheep
to run to the other side.
Seatbelts are required by
law
In Iceland, drivers and
passengers are required by law
to wear seatbelts, regardless
of the type of vehicle or where
they are seated. Investigations
of fatal accidents in recent
years have shown that a large
majority of those who died
did not have their seatbelts
fastened. Wearing seatbelts is
especially important because
of the nature of accidents
in Iceland: many of them
involve vehicles driving off the
road and rolling over. In such
accidents, seatbelts often
mean the difference between
life and death. It should be
noted that children must either
wear seatbelts, or be in car
safety seats, depending on
their age and maturity.
Necessary to bear in mind
It is against the law to operate
a vehicle in Iceland after
having consumed alcohol,
and the punishment for
violating this law is rather stiff.
Iceland requires that vehicle
headlights be on at all times,
day and night, when driving.
It is strictly forbidden to drive
off-road. Such driving results
in serious damage to sensitive
vegetation, which may take
nature decades to repair.
Foreign travellers requiring
information regarding road
and driving conditions
should visit the Public Road
Administration’s website at
www.vegagerdin.is
It should be noted that the
Road Traffic Directorate
has produced a video for
foreign drivers, which covers
all the points that have
been mentioned here. The
video can be viewed on the
Directorate’s website,
www.us.is (under the English
version).
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How to drive in
Iceland
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