When I first wrote this, it was with the intention of being equal parts “I saw a live volcano!!” and “no one’s talking about the hike, only the exciting firey bit” but between visiting and… well, not even publishing. Two or three days after I visited, the volcano ground to a halt. You can still hike if you really want but the best you might see is smoke.
Anyway, on with the post:
Just for a little context, I’m writing this on my phone-in-a-waterproof-case from a spa in Iceland, with my GoPro attached to my toe so I don’t lose it or have to think about it. This is my view right now:
Yesterday I hiked out to the new volcano. It started erupting on August 3rd and on the 16th, when I had a few free days and Iceland had had time to make sure it was safe, still going and accessible, I flew out to see it. I missed the 2014 Holuhraun eruption because it was in the depths of the Desert of Misdeeds, which is ludicrously difficult to get to and it started right at the end of August when it’s already winter out there. I missed the 2021 Geldingadalur/Fagradalsfjall eruption because Iceland was still testing incoming passengers and even for a volcano I can’t take a throat swab. But Iceland has an eruption about every five years. I’d get to one sooner or later.
I had no idea how much sooner it would be.
The word volcano is doing all the heavy lifting in the casual phrase “volcano hike”. I must have spent at least four times as much time hiking as I did volcano-ing. It’s about 6/7km each way and it’s up in the mountains. ICE-SAR had warned that its a serious hike for experienced, prepared hikers and so I prepared.
I had my mountain boots, spare socks and first aid kit for my feet. I had my full waterproofs, a spare jumper, woolly hat and gloves. Headtorch and spare batteries, not that I saw myself getting benighted out there. I had three drinks and plenty of food and I also had my spare camera battery and mini tripod. I saw plenty of people in jeans and trainers and that’s… fine. As long as they can walk over steep, rough terrain and not get hypothermia when it rains. And rain it does. I’d had to delay my hike because of bad weather on the Wednesday – not only was it too wet & windy in general, the authorities had closed the site and the police were blocking the road to get rid of anyone who was thinking of having a go. But Thursday dawned bright and clear and dry.
Let’s start with the map.
The first 2km of the hike are on a nice path meandering through the valley opposite the car park with views of mountains that you start to really realise formed in exactly the same way as the natural crucible you’re hiking to.
Then it goes up a ramp to a nice viewpoint over last year’s lava flow. I’d have been so excited about that last time I was in Iceland four months ago but now it’s just a backdrop to a snack stop on the way to the real exciting thing. It had been half an hour. I wanted to keep up my energy levels and remind myself to be realistic about how long this was going to take.
Immediately above the viewpoint is a short sharp section of six switchbacks – you can stop at every level and pretend it’s to enjoy the view and not because you’re exhausted – and then there’s another long ramp overlooking a higher part of last year’s flow. But once you’re up, that’s all the climbing over. Now it levels out and stays pretty level all the rest of the way.
Next, more nice meandering path over the plateau. You get into a rhythm and now you can appreciate the views over Reykjanes and all the other freestanding volcanoes dotting the landscape.
But that runs out and you have a huge section on the sort of loose lava that’s a lot like what you call clitter on Dartmoor. This is the worst bit- it goes on forever, it’s slow and difficult and that makes it impossible to guesstimate the distance but it felt like a third of the whole hike. I was so glad to have my poles for this bit, especially with an ankle that’s still hurting and still doesn’t like to be turned sideways four weeks and six days post-sprain.
Eventually the path returns. You go downhill, across to a small rise – you can see the end from here – and then down and across again. The path is very rough after this first downhill bit but there was a digger digging fresh soft brown soil and two dumper trucks spreading it, literally building the path as we were walking on it so by the time this is published a week later, who knows what that difficult path-less section could be like.
You’ll spend the first half of this hike alongside last year’s lava flow and the second half alongside the new craters – again, I had to remind myself so many times that even three weeks ago I’d have been so excited to see that and now I have to make myself care. This year’s crater is in a valley so although you’ll see the smoke at least half an hour before you get there, you won’t see the volcano itself until you’re almost on top of it.
Two weeks ago – three in blog time – it was just a fissure spouting fire. Now nature is doing what it does and there’s a baby crater! It’s jet-black and the new lava is black although it’s glowing red where fresh new stuff is trickling out of the gap in the crater wall. And in the middle of it all – lava! Fountains! Explosions! It’s amazing.
Well, it was when I was there!
The photos make the lava look quite yellow. In reality it was orange – simultaneously the deepest darkest orange I’ve ever seen and the brightest. I’ve seen plenty of fire. I’ve seen red-hot metal. But rock so hot it’s melted and turned to a splashable liquid gives off a light and colour I’ve never seen anywhere before. Even in broad daylight, even under the sun – which did pop out briefly – it glows.
Yeah, it kept raining. Mostly every time I thought it was time for a food break. Sitting on the steep hillside as if this was a theatre, with an audience of hundreds at any one time, would have been the perfect time to have lunch while watching the show but it was too wet and cold and I realised if I just sat there I’d get hypothermia. I must have added at least 50% to my walking distance by pottering around the hill trying not to freeze. And all the time there’s this big heat source right there and you can’t go and warm up in the hot pool.
Yes, it makes a noise. It’s exactly the noise you’d expect of molten rock exploding into the air and splashing back down. Kind of halfway between a thunderstorm and a lorry unloading beer barrels in the next street, to the accompaniment of every helicopter in Iceland buzzing overhead and half the drones.
A few things. I know the hillside is crowded but don’t go and stand directly in front of people, especially if they’re sitting down. I know everyone’s wielding a camera but don’t walk across in front of someone’s camera. Do not look them dead in the eye and move so you’re still right in their photo after they’ve moved to get you out.
It is an incredible thing to see a live eruption. I couldn’t quite believe I was there – me, standing on the hill staring at orange lava being ejected from inside the Earth. But… the hike.
On the way up, just as we started the first, relatively gentle, climb we encountered the first people coming down and a man who happened to be next to me at the time asked a girl “Did you see lava?”. She responded in such an uninterested way that we laughed, looked at each other and once she was out of earshot I said “I would be more enthusiastic”. Well, now I get it. If anyone had spoken to me at that late stage, with two kilometres left, they’d have been lucky to get a snarl rather than a string of what I called Anglo-Saxon language last week. It’s not the distance, not really. It’s not the descent, although those switchbacks did ruin my knees, my temper and my grip on not squealing and swearing out loud in frustrated terror. It was the unpathed section, where I spent at least an hour picking my way across a boulder field. It’s slow anyway but I sprained my ankle nearly five weeks ago and any bad step would have resulted in me being rescued – and probably by one of the ATVs that were bumping along the track rather than by helicopter.
Oh, I hated the walk back and even more, the distance across the lava field that now serves as car park. More rocks to scramble over! I’m in the car park, why have I still got half a mile to go?? (1000kr per car, payable via parka.is, by the way).
And when I was done, my feet and legs were ruined. I drove back to Hveragerði in my sweaty mountain clothes, froze half to death because Iceland is cold and moreso when you’re wearing damp clothes and I was extremely glad to dump my cold bones, sore feet and aching legs in the nice warm 37-39° pool an hour later! I can walk 14km but that rocky bit finished me off.
So there we go. I got there just in time! This was Thursday. By Friday, people were asking if it was coming to an end because it had slowed down so much. By Saturday it had pretty much stopped and unless it wakes up again in the next few weeks or months, it officially ended on Sunday at 6am. I’m so glad I did the hike early in my trip instead of saving it for the end and I’m so glad it was still going when I got there! I hope this path info is helpful in the even it starts up again but at least I got to see the thing.
