Reykjavík Grapevine - 01.07.2016, Qupperneq 58

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The tarmac of Þórsmerkurvegur
ends abruptly, a few kilometres
inland from Seljalandsfoss, with a
sudden bump that rouses the bus’s
passengers from their slumber.
The interruption is welcome.
It signals that we’re close to our
destination: the sequestered, fa-
mously beautiful southern region
of Þórsmörk. This wild region’s
relative inaccessibility is part of
its charm; it’s sealed off from casu-
al visitors by several unpredictable,
constantly shifting glacial rivers.
We trundle through them
slowly, one after the other, observ-
ing safely from the high cabin of
the monstrous 4x4 bus. The final
hurdle is the treacherous Krossá,
so-called because it criss-crosses
itself across the valley floor. The
driver shifts into a low gear and
crawls through the deep, silty wa-
ter. Emerging on the far side, we
pass a pair of hikers who’ve wisely
chosen to leave their car behind,
using a heavy-duty movable foot-
bridge that sits over the river to
continue their journey on foot.
The onward road deteriorates
into a set of tyre marks across a
vast, ashen glacial floodplain. To
our right, the peak of Eyjafjal-
lajökull emerges for a moment,
hanging improbably high in the
swirling clouds. To the left, a range
of large, rough mountains appear
through a distant sandstorm.
We’re just entering Þórsmörk, and
it already feels like another world.
Wild life
Our home for the next few days
is the Volcano Huts—a speck of
civilisation in the dramatic ex-
panse of the landscape. This small
cluster of wooden chalets sits on
a fenced-off plot of land, shel-
tered by the Þórsmörk mountain
ridge, that also holds a campsite,
a restaurant, a shower block, a
steaming geothermal hot pot and
a small sauna. Full of anticipa-
tion, we drop off our bags, pick up
a trail map, and head out to start
the hike to the nearby 480m peak
of Valahnúkur.
The path plunges immediate-
ly into some verdant woodland,
meandering through a birch for-
est, crossing several dry stream
beds. Soon, we reach the long
plateau where the mountain as-
cent begins. It doesn’t take long
to reach the top of Valahnúkur,
but as we catch our breath and
take in the surrounding moun-
tain view, the weather starts to
turn. A fast-moving wall of cloud
appears, speeding towards us
from the sea and obscuring the
grey, river-riddled valley floor. As
it’s about to hit, it turns upwards
suddenly, encountering the bulge
of the Þórsmörk ridge. The wispy
clouds—as if they have a mind of
their own—curl upwards, wrap-
ping over our heads, and then dive
down behind us in a cold embrace
of the mountain.
Off road
The pathways are marked on the
trail map by their condition. Some
are strong lines, meaning they’re
well-maintained trails; dotted
lines, indicating some level of
decay; and red lines, that warn of
steepness or difficulty. After de-
scending through a deep white fog
and deciding to take a trail that
circles the plateau, we descend
into a rugged, grassy canyon,
green with moss and alive with
bees and butterflies. But when the
trail terminates at the bank of the
swollen Krossá river, we realise
we’ve stumbled onto one of the
dotted lines.
For the next three hours, we
negotiate a completely wild moun-
tainside. It’s a mind-clearing type
of hiking that requires focus and
creativity—we climb over huge
fallen boulders, scramble up and
down steep gravel hills, visit gap-
ing caves, and tiptoe carefully
down the bank of the gushing
Krossá. The only sign of human-
kind is the occasional waymark-
er—tiny, broken wooden spikes
58 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 9 — 2016TRAVEL
Accommodation
volcanohuts.comHiking
Getting High
Two days of hiking in the
otherworldly Þórsmörk
Words JOHN ROGERS
Photos ART BICNICK