þoka

A thick fog settled on us during the night and a very heavy dew, making for a mystical walk downhill to the next hut, the end of stage two. Although it was only an hour from departing, we stopped to ask the warden about the day's forecast and make a cup of coffee before continuing. We put our socks over the heater when we arrived, and in just a few minutes they became dry and warm. I can't think of anything better than warm socks after days and days of wet feet. The luxury only lasted until we put our feet back into our shoes, but nothing compares to warm socks. 

Increasing rain seemed to lessen the fog as we covered stage three quickly through impossibly-green valleys. In just four hours we reached Breiðavík. Cold and soaked, we were happy to go inside, make soup in the hut, and stand by the wood stove. (Iceland is stunning in rain and fog).

We still weren't done for the day, and in more fog and rain, we set out for a few more hours hoping to cover one of the climbs of the final stage. We started trudging through wetlands and up to high fells. As we climbed, a stiff wind added to the already challenging rain. The terrain was rugged and trail markers tougher to find in the fog. Day had turned to night, and it seemed dark even without the sun fully setting. We had grown tired from the hours of wetness and couldn't find a level place to pitch the tent; the ground was either marshy or steeply sloped. We traversed scree and passed piles of giant boulders where the trolls were surely waiting to eat us. We hiked longer than we planned, before finally, and rapidly, staking our tent at the gap of Súluskarð about eight kilometers beyond the hut. We were exhausted, saddened to have only one more day of hiking in front of us, but relieved to find a place to stop for the night,. The wind beat at the fabric, and the rain came harder, but we were safely resting while our tent proved itself against the conditions.

Húsavík - Breiðavík - Súluskarð

víknaslóðir

We woke early, ready to get moving after a special treat of orange juice for our breakfast (had to drink it now so I wouldn't carry it too far). It was going to be a good day to put some miles between us and Seyðisfjörður as we start out on the Víknaslóðir trail, hoping to reach Bakkagerði sometime Monday.

After a short, but steady climb, we met our first obstacle to cross, a waterfall. I'd been pulled into two different currents in the past few weeks, so I was feeling a bit cautious each time we were faced with a fording, but we chose our spot and passed through safely.

We continued higher and soon found the guest book on Hjálmárdalsheiði, along the highest section of our route. From there, we followed a few footprints through snowfields until the trail started to descend back down mossy green slopes dotted with a line of old telegraph poles.

The next river took a little time to decide the proper place to ford. The marked trail crossed at a narrow bend. We borrowed a post to determine that it would be too deep to cross there - about waist high and rushing, like many of the crossings, the water level has been especially high from the wet summer. Eventually, we decided to cross two smaller tributaries before changing out of our hiking shoes, rolling up our pants, and crossing a little lower where the water moved a bit slower.

Now we were dropping down a rugged slope toward a black beach, grasslands covered in wildflowers, and a few bridges before reaching Loðmundarfjordur.

We had traveled for six hours by the time we reached the hut at Loðmundarfjordur, stopping for lunch and the chance to sit. A group of hikers also arrived from the opposite direction, gathering wild mushrooms to cook for their dinner that evening. We spent a few hours chatting and resting and felt refreshed to begin stage two of our trek. It would have been easy to linger, spend the evening camping near the hut, but the weather was favorable, so we thought we should continue. We backtracked away from the hut, and followed a dirt road toward Nes.

Fed and rested, we were moving quickly along the stretch of road. I use road hesitantly, but it can be driven a few short weeks in the summer by well-equipped vehicles, so we'll call it a road. Shortly after leaving the hut, we saw the most incredible sight: our shadows!

We enjoyed our evening walk in the sun and took tons of photos in the lovely light.

After winding up switchbacks, we pitched our tent at the pass by Nesháls. After ten hours of hiking we enjoyed a simple dinner and a gorgeous view across to the fjord we passed through earlier in the day.   

Seyðisfjörður - Loðmundarfjordur - Nesháls