Laugavegur + Fimmvorduhals
The Laugavegur is a 54km hiking trail in southern Iceland that runs from Landmannalaugar to Thorsmork. The Laugavegur connects in Thorsmork to the Fimmvorduhals, which is a 24km hiking trail that ends in Skogar. The Fimmvorduhals is through a mountain pass between two glaciers, Eyjafjallajokul and Myrdalsjokull.
Prelude
There is only one bus per day from Reykjavik to Landmannalaugar, which arrives at 11:30 am. Knowing I had a long first day on trail and not wanting to be pressed for time, I opted to take the bus to Landmannalaugar a day ahead.
After a very early morning and nearly 5 hour bus ride, I arrived in Landmannalaugar. With the whole afternoon ahead of me, I asked the ranger at the tourist information centre to recommend a day hike in the area. I knew I was going to get my fill of Icelandic scenery over the next 4 days, but I was eager to stretch my legs after sitting for so long.
As I slogged up a steep hill, sweat starting to drip down my chest, I wondered if I was being foolish for tiring my legs out on a hike before the real hike. When I got to the top and looked back at the mountains rising above the lava field, I was awestruck. "This doesn't look real!", I exclaimed. I felt butterflies in my stomach. I had already been excited to hike the Laugavegur, but this taste of what was to come sparked a greater sense of anticipation. I hoped the ranger hadn't set me up for disappointment, as it was hard to believe that views on the Laugavegur could top what I was seeing right now.
After a short but stunning hike, I relaxed in the thermal baths. I could have stayed in there forever, as you could adjust your temperature by moving closer to or further from the hot spring; thus, always staying just right.
I tucked into bed early, wanting to be well rested for my big day tomorrow. I had barely drifted off, when I was woken by a booming snore right in my ear. The person on the mat next to mine was shaking the whole hut. Earplugs, my jacket wrapped around my head, and my pillow on my head were no match for this sound and I was overheating. I looked for a spot on another bunk, but the dorm was full. I took a stroll in the quiet outside to consider my options, knowing I would get no sleep at all if I stayed in my current arrangement. When I returned to the hut, I decided to pull my mattress off the bunk and throw it in the corner of the room. This provided just enough distance from the culprit to dilute his snoring enough that I could sleep.
Day 1 - Landmannalaugar to Alftavatn
Distance: 22km
Elevation: 840m
Time: 6 hours 20 minutes
After snapping an obligatory photo at the sign marking the start of the Laugavegur, I set off at around 7:45am.
The beginning of the trail I had already covered yesterday before branching off to another trail. It had felt easy then, but I was finding it harder to pick up my legs now under the weight of my pack.
Only about 30 minutes into the hike, I came to a geothermal area with steam billowing out of vents. This trail was already proving to be unlike any I had done before, and I could hardly wait to see what else was in store.
After ascending a short section of stairs, I had a vantage point across the Brennisteinsalda lava field back to the Landmannalaugar hut. I had a bird's-eye view of the lava field yesterday. Wandering through today had offered a very different perspective, and I was appreciative to have experienced both.
As I climbed out of the valley, I was surrounded by folded multicoloured mountains with sprinkles of snow patches, occasional columns of steam rising beside the trail, and glaciers glistening in the distance. I was grateful to have perfect weather on this morning, hardly a cloud in the sky, allowing me to fully experience the rugged beauty of Iceland.
I found a sleeping bag in a stuff sack right in the middle of the trail. There was a guy not too far ahead, so I hurried after him and called out, "Is this yours?" He was not the owner and not knowing in which direction the owner was headed, we decided to leave the sleeping bag on the trail to hopefully be reclaimed. A few minutes later, a man came running towards us asking if we had seen a sleeping bag, so we pointed him in the right direction.
We passed a memorial for a hiker who died in a blizzard in late June of 2004. Looking over the expansive barren land where, even in the best of conditions, the trail is barely discernible at times, I could imagine how easily one could get lost in poor visibility and how harsh the elements must be with zero protection. A few minutes later, just over the next ridge, we reached the Hrafntinnusker hut. My heart sank thinking about how close to safety that hiker had perished.
We stopped at Hrafntinnusker hut to eat lunch and use the toilets. I had originally planned to spend my first night on trail here rather than pushing all the way through to Alftavatn, but I had been put on a waitlist and a bed never came available. Now that I was seeing how rustic this hut is, I was glad to not be staying here.
I set off across the expanse of wrinkled landscape. The trail took me down into a gully for a stream crossing and then back up the other side over and over and over again. I wondered who decided this was the best route and reasoned surely a way around would have made more sense in order to avoid all the ascent and descent. Some of the descents were steep and on a muddy gravelly terrain that gave way under my feet, so the threat of ending up sliding down on my behind was very real. Growing a little impatient with the repetitiveness of this section of trail, I decided to try to jump across the stream rather than walk up stream for an easier spot to cross. I leapt across and touched down on the opposite bank, but the bank was soft and collapsed into the stream. I reached out wildly to try to stop myself from falling, but all I managed to do was cut my hand on a sharp rock and still end up stepping in the stream. "That was so stupid and unnecessary", I thought to myself. While I had only a very minor injury that required no more than a bandaid, I was reminded to be careful because all it would take for this trip to be over is one slip.
Only a few more undulations in the trail before I climbed up to a viewpoint where I could look back to Hrafntinnusker. I stopped for a quick snack before continuing. I was glad this part was over and looking forward to a change.
I walked past geothermal pools and vents at the base of glacial tongues while thinking to myself, "This is more like it". I had been worn down by the monotony of the past hour and a half, but my excitement was renewed.
Less than an hour later, the lake where Alftavatn hut is situation came into view in the distance as I arrived atop a ridge. This is where the descent began, losing around 300m over a kilometer. With grades reaching -50% in spots and the presence of loose rock, I took this section slow and relied heavily on my poles.
I came to a river crossing that intimidated me. I paced up and down looking for the best spot, but none looked appealing. A couple opted for higher up the river, where the man jumped from 1 big boulder to another, the women threw their packs across, and then she jumped. I went over to suss out the situation and they offered me a hand, but I was too scared. I saw a guided group and followed them down the river to a spot where there was a cable. I knew this was the intended spot to cross and likely the safest, but the water seemed to be rushing higher and faster than in spots I had seen higher up. I walked back up the river for another look. As I kept watching people cross safely to the other side, each finding their own way, I gained confidence that the crossing is doable. I finally picked a spot that, despite all my surveying, was probably not the best, but I made it across.
The guy I had hiked with for a while this morning was assigned to a bunk in the same room as me. We recounted how the rest of the day had gone for each of us. I shared that I had been scared to cross the river and he dismissed my concerns by saying, "You're not going to die with that amount of water". A 71-year-old trail runner, Rob, pipped in, "You absolutely could. My buddy slipped crossing a river much shallower than that, hit his head and was knocked unconscious, so he drowned". I felt validated and was glad that my cocky acquaintance had learned a valuable lesson.
Later that evening, we went over to the restaurant to grab an overpriced beer and charge our phones at the power station. I was relieved this was an option because I had full drained my battery taking so many pictures that day and I had been concerned my phone was not going to make it through the whole trip even with my backup battery.
Day 2 - Alftavatn to Emstrur
Distance: 16km
Elevation: 315m
Time: 4 hours
When I went into the kitchen in the morning to make breakfast, I was informed by other hut guests that there was no hot water because the gas tank was empty. They had already knocked on the door of the warden's hut to ask for the tank to be refilled, but there was no answer. They figured he was passed out drunk because there were strewn empty liquor bottles. Luckily, a number of the hut guests were doing a mix of camping and staying in huts, so they had camp stoves and were willing to boil water to share with everyone; therefore, I was still able to make my oatmeal.
I set off at around 9am. I quickly arrived at a river crossing. This crossing was much less treacherous than the one last night, but still could not be crossed by rock hopping and so I had to take my hiking boots off. If I'd known I would have to change into my Crocs so soon, I probably would have just hiked the first part of the day in them to save me the trouble of tying, untying, and tying my hiking boots.
I hiked up a short hill to be greeted by views of a lush green valley below, well about as lush as this volcanic island can be. In the distance, I initially thought it was just cloud behind the hills, but actually the clouds were touching a glacial expanse.
I reached Hvanngil hut about an hour after leaving Alftavatn. While I was not really in need of a toilet or a snack yet, I took the opportunity anyways for fear of regretting passing it up.
Shortly after departing Hvanngil, there was another river crossing. I was not looking forward to having to plunge my feet into the frigid water again. I checked AllTrails and saw this was unfortunately not going to be my last river crossing of the day. Luckily, the next and final river crossing had a footbridge!
The rest of the day was a bit boring if I'm honest. The trail was a flat walk across a barren vastness of gravel surrounded by gravel hills. There were glimpses of glacier peeking out between hills, but otherwise there was not much of anything to see. The distant scenery was occluded by cloud that day. Wind ripped through the area, as there was no protection from the elements. This section of trail started to feel tedious and I found myself hoping the hut in Emstrur would appear soon. "Where the heck is this hut?", I thought to myself, figuring I must be drawing near and expecting to see the hut long before I arrived; however, the Botnar huts suddenly popped up out of nowhere.
I arrived in Emstrur at 1pm, so I had a lot of time left in the day. I started with lunch. While I was eating, a family arrived at the hut and their daughter seemed in quite a state. She immediately lay down on one of the beds, but her family told her to get up because she had to take off her hiking clothes first. They helped her change while she sobbed. I asked if she had slipped on one of the river crossings, thinking maybe she had gotten wet and was now hypothermic. Her parents informed me that their family have all been fighting an illness and she has gotten it the worst, so she had a rough time getting through the day. I felt panic rising inside me because I dreaded the thought of getting sick. I bolted outside to get away from them. Between the guy snoring the first night and now the sick family, I was starting to think maybe camping is the better option.
A little while later, another hiker arrived at Emstrur and asked me if I had gone to the canyon yet. I had no idea what she was talking about. She told me that she had read in her guide book that there is a canyon nearby that is supposed to be worth the detour. I asked to join her. At 2:30pm, we hiked back up the hill we had hiked down to get to the Botnar huts and took a small trail off of the Laugavegur. Moments later, we were standing above an epic canyon! I was so glad she had told me about this hidden gem because I would have missed it otherwise and this was by far the best part of the day and also a highlight of the trail so far.
I stayed outside all evening to reduce my exposure to the contagious family. I enjoyed a stretching session on the deck overlooking the mountains. When I returned to the hut to retire for the night, I wore a mask to protect myself. Trying to sleep with a mask on and my jacket wrapped around my head to muffle the sounds of people snoring was an awful experience. I was overheating and felt like I was suffocating, but I eventually managed to doze off.
Day 3 - Emstrur to Thorsmork
Distance: 16.5km
Elevation: 430m
Time: 4 hours 20 minutes
I set off at around 8am. The day started with a descent, which was a nice way to ease into the hiking. After only about 30 minutes, I reached a river. This one luckily had a footbridge across. I paused on the bridge to enjoy the view of the nearby glacier that was feeding the river.
After crossing the river, the trail almost double backed and started to ascent what I had just descended. Immediately, I began to sweat with the increased effort and I had to shed a layer.
After about 30 minutes of climbing, I was out of the canyon and the trail opened up. A glacier appeared in the distance and the trail headed straight towards it. The glacier grew steadily bigger as I meandered down the gradually descending trail.
By 11am, I reached the Thronga river. The riverbed was wide with many little streams trickling through. I was able to jump across these in a single leap or by hopping from rock to rock. Once I got to the far side f the river, there was a much more substantial flow and I had to take my shoes off for one last wade through the freezing water. I put my shoes back on and climbed up the river bank, just to find moments later that there was another section to cross. I opted to risk the rock hopping even though the path looked a tad precarious. I took the crossing very carefully because a slight misstep would lead to wet feet. Once I was most of the way across, I found myself feeling stuck, as I was faced with a hop that was bigger than I was comfortable with. I gathered the courage and leaped, making it safely across.
After the river crossing, the landscape completely changed from the barren rockiness I grown accustom to over the past 3 days. I found myself enclosed in a forest of short scraggly trees. It was only a short walk through the forest before I arrived at the top of a staircase. I skipped down the stairs with excited anticipation that the end of the trail was near. At the bottom of the trails, the hut in Thorsmork came into view just a few yards away. I reached the end of the trail a bit before 12:30pm. Of course, I took a photo at the sign marking the end of the trail to bookend the journey.
I was anxious about the Fimmvorduhals because there is only 1 bus per day from Skogar that comes at 4pm and I would be stranded without any camping gear if I were to miss the bus; therefore, I needed to ensure I gave myself adequate time for the hike. I reviewed one of my informational pamphlets, which gave an estimated time range for the Fimmvorduhals of 8-10 hours. Comparing the time ranges listed for each section of the Laugavegur with how long I had taken to hike those sections, I found I was consistently at the low end of the range; regardless, I opted to give myself 10 hours.
I learned from the pamphlet that my day would start with crossing the river Krossa via a mobile bridge. This river crossing was reported to be much more serious than any of those on the Laugavegur. I walked down to the river to assess the situation. The Krossa is spread out over a wide area divided into a plethora of small streams. I started making my way across to plan my route for the morning, winding up and down the river to find the best spots to cross each stream. There was a bridge a ways downstream across a fraction of the river, but I hoped I would be able to skip the bridge and take a more direct route. I made it nearly all the way to the other side, but I turned around at the last stream because it was rushing fiercely.
When I got back, my feet were aching from the cold, so I had to hobble to the hut. Rob, the 71-year-old trail runner I had met at Alftavatn hut, was sitting at a picnic table on the porch and struck up a conversation with me. He was doing the Fimmvorduhals tomorrow too, so I strategized with him and shared my concerns. He had a rather nonchalant attitude about our upcoming adventure because he has conquered far grander feats. Rob thought waking up at 6am would give him more than enough time and he thought I was a bit silly for planning to get up at 5am because we hike at a similar pace.
Day 4 - Thorsmork to Skogar
Distance: 26.5km
Elevation: 1040m
Time: 7 hours 15 minutes
When my alarm went off at 5am, I woke with butterflies in my stomach, feeling both excited and nervous for the day ahead. As I ate my breakfast alone in the living area, the rising sun illuminated the mountains across the river in a brilliant gold. I was so glad that I had been up early enough to lay witness to this exceptionally beautiful and fleeting moment.
Rob appeared in the doorway. I asked what he was doing up so early and he told me that he had been unsettled by the idea of me crossing the river alone, so he wanted to keep an eye on me until I was safely to the other side.
I set off at 6am. Stepping into the frigid river shocked me awake. Crossing the streams felt more difficult than last night because I was less steady on my feet with my backpack shifting my centre of gravity. After about 15 minutes, I made it to the other side. When I finished lacing my boots onto my numb feet, I thought to myself, "Alright, let's do this" and I took off flying. I wondered not if but when Rob would catch up with me.
After a short walk along a gravel road beside the river, I passed through a campground. Past the campground is where the climb began. Wanting to have a productive start to the day, I found myself basically sprinting up the hillside.
After less than half an hour, I reached the top of the hill seriously out of breath and dripping with sweat. I was greeted with a stunning view that I took a brief moment to enjoy, but I felt pressured not to stop for long.
Luckily, I had an opportunity to catch my breath, as the next section was relatively flat walking along a ridge. In all directions were glaciers rising high above the Krossa river below. Surrounded by the grandiosity of the natural world, I felt so small.
The flat walking ended all too soon and then it was back to the climb.
Rob had informed me about 2 chain sections on the first half of the trail, with the second being much more technical than the first. When I arrived at the chain section, I dropped my pace way down to be careful with my footing. The trail clings to the cliffside on the left and a stumble to the right could result in a fatal slide down a gravel slope. The trail then goes up a steep rocky section where I made sure to cling to the chain and lean forward into the rock. Once safely through that chain section, I worried about the next because this chain section had already felt a bit uneasy.
Head down, I trudged upwards. On a few occasions, I let out a breathy, "Oh my God" or similar sentiment, sometimes in response to the steepness of the grade I was ascending and sometimes in awe of the scenery. I checked AllTrails, which showed me that I was currently on a 55% grade!
"Is that all?" I thought to myself in disbelief when I reached the top of the mountain at 8:30am. I had been expecting a bigger challenge. I turned to look at how far I had come, the ridge line I had crossed not long ago now far below. With the most difficult part done, I felt like I could take it easy now and enjoy this experience rather than continuing to rush through.
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The trail entered a lava field and I marvelled at how neat it was to be walking amongst the volcanos while surrounded by glaciers. I really came to appreciate why they call Iceland the land of fire an ice because I was getting both of those now. It was easy to lose the trail among the rocks and snow patches, so I found that I had gone slightly awry at one point. A couple appeared behind me an I hoped they didn't blindly follow me. After my small detour, I was back on trail. I stopped to read about Magni and Modi, two craters that were formed in a volcanic eruption in 2010.
I was through the lava field in only 30-45 minutes. I then found myself up atop a short but steep hill with an icefield below. The ground was very soft, so I sort of slid my way down. As I approached the icefield, the ground turned to damp sand and I found myself sinking. I tried to step forward, but by foot was suctioned into the muck. With a big tug, I manage to pull my foot free and then run to solid ground. I walked over the slippery sheet ice with extreme caution. I was thankful that I had bought new hiking boots for this trip because the tread on my old boots was worn way down, so I surely would I been on my butt by now in those; however, I was a bit annoyed that my boots boots were now covered in a layer of mud from my quicksand encounter.
Shortly after, I reached Baldvinsskali hut, where I stopped to use the toilet and have a snack. It was around 10 am and I had already done about half the distance of the day with the rest being all downhill from here; therefore, any remaining uncertainty about making the bus on time was now put to rest.
The section after Baldvinsskali hut was honestly quite dull, just a gradual descent on a wide gravel path with nothing around, but I wasn't bored for long because the waterfalls started soon enough. The trail follows the Skoga river the rest of the way, at times going along the edge of deep canyon. There was a couple impressive waterfalls early on, but after the signpost marking 4.8km to Skogar was when the waterfalls appeared in earnest. I documented every waterfall I passed to share with friends and family. At that time, I was acutely aware of one of the major downsides of solo-hiking: you only get photos OF the cool landscapes and not WITH them, which also means there is nothing to provide scale to the photos.
As I got closer to Skogar, the trail got increasingly busy. At first it was backpackers headed towards Thorsmork, then trail runners, and finally gaggles of tourists. I started to experience the mixed emotions that I always get when I know the end of an adventure is drawing near.
When I got to Skogafoss, I took a moment to reflect on how I had been here a week ago on a group tour and at that time I had been imagining this very moment of being here again after completing the Laugavegur.
I was in disbelief that Rob had never caught up with me. I set my backpack down at a picnic table to put on my jacket, as I was getting cold now that I had stopped moving. When I looked up to set items on the table, Rob was walking towards me! I had an hour head start and we finished at the same time, so basically I just got shown up by a 71-year-old. He didn't gloat about completing the Fimmvorduhals in less time than me, but he did say, "I told you so" because he had assured me I did not need 10 hours to complete the trail. With 3 hours to kill before the bus arrived, he asked if I wanted to try hitchhiking. We gave it a go for only about half an hour before giving up. The wind had really picked up and the rain had started, so we were catching a chill standing outside with our thumbs out. We sought refuge in the restaurant where I enjoyed a very expensive but very tasty hot chocolate.
On the bus ride to Reykjavik, a young Canadian guy sat beside me and we ended up chatting the whole way, which made the trip pass much faster.