Reykjavík Grapevine - 16.07.2018, Blaðsíða 48

48 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 16— 2018
The Hengifoss waterfall appears sud-
denly across lake Lagarfljot, like a
sharp white scratch against the dark
cliffs. It turns out to be a fleeting
glimpse—Hengifoss is set back from
the sinuous lakeside road in a high
canyon. The closer we drive, the less of
the torrent is visible.
For that reason, the forty minute
hike up to the waterfall is a popular
one, and several cars sit gleaming in
the warm summer sun in the discrete
layby that marks the start of the trail.
Despite an unseasonably grey and
rainy summer in Reykjavík, the skies
in East Iceland are clear and blue—so
much so that we have to apply sun-
screen, for the first time this year.
Crumbling pillars
The trail starts out uphill along a gravel
road. As we crunch up the hill, I realise
how much of a hike you spend looking
at the ground beneath your feet. The
yellow sand and dusty pebbles of the
manmade road aren’t nearly as stimu-
lating as walking a real hiking trail,
with all the creeping roots, bright soil,
different ground plants, and colourful
flowers that wildland contains.
When we reach the first in the se-
ries of waterfalls along the way, all
such thoughts are forgotten. Litlanes-
foss is a tall, narrow stream of foaming
water that collapses down through a
stunning basalt rock formation. The
vertical cliff is made up of squared off
columns that lean in towards each oth-
er like the crumbling pillars of a won-
der of the ancient world.
After another twenty minutes of
hiking steadily uphill the road finally
ends, and my boots finally thump sat-
isfyingly onto the raw earth of a dirt
trail. It’s an easy hike that yields pan-
oramic views over Lagarfljót, and pass-
es several points of interest along the
way. There’s a small photogenic water-
fall that turns into a stream littered
with stepping stones, but it’s also pos-
sible to cross directly at the foot of the
cascade, and lots of people do so, also
taking the opportunity to get a photo.
The ascent
Hengifoss remains concealed until
almost the last moment. We stride up
the bank of the river, crossing boul-
ders and grassy stretches, the path
sometimes tracing the inside walls
of the canyon as it narrows towards
our target. Several European ac-
cents float by as we pass other hik-
ers—German, Spanish, English, and
more than a few speaking Icelandic.
The summer weather has put every-
one in an energetic mood, and with
the crashing sound of the waterfall
getting ever-louder, we bound up the
final hill.
Seams of red
Hengifoss is a dramatic sight. The 128
metre waterfall tumbles down from the
Highlands into a canyon that’s like a
bite out of the earth, revealing meaty
layers of sedimentary rock, including
four bright red seams that look like ic-
ing in a layer cake.
Into the blue
A little past the end of the path, we
scramble up onto a large boulder that’s
fallen down from the cliffside. The spray
of the waterfall blasts the surrounding
cliffs, and the resulting river gushes
down the mountains, ultimately blend-
ing with the silty grey water of the glim-
mering lake Lagarfljót. We trace its path
back down the hillside feeling refreshed
before we, too, vanish out from this en-
grossing pocket of Icelandic nature and
back into into the wider world.
Distance from
Reykjavík:
702 km
Car provided by:
Hertz.is
Flight provided by:
airicelandconnect.
com
Accommodation
provided by:
wilderness.is
The Hanging Fall
A summer hike to Hengifoss
Words: John Rogers Photos: Timothée Lambrecq
The road is long, with many a winding turn