I woke up early (around 5-5:30) to get started early on the 15 miles hike to Alfavatn. I knew that each section of the hike, 7.5 miles, was estimated to take 4-5 hours, so I wanted as much time as possible to complete it.

There were sheep right outside the hut when I got up in the morning, and it was a cold trek to the bathroom (separate building).

 

The kitchen was locked until 7 am, so I used my backpacking stove to make my breakfast outside.

I started off around 6:45. The weather was good (not raining or windy), so I was eager to start. Plus the sun was rising beautifully over the painted mountains.

The scenery starts jaw-dropping and continues to get only more remarkable. It’s these gorgeous, multi-hued mountains with steam coming up around them that makes everything seem mystical. It’s like being in some Lord of the Rings fantasy novel.

 

I knew there was the most elevation gain and distance this day. But it did not necessarily prepare me for the difficulty of this hike, which challenged me in different ways than hiking in Colorado. I have a fear of heights, and it’s really a fear of falling down a height when there is a steep edge or drop off. Those mountains/hills below require going up and down some steep heights with 30 pounds on your back. It was quite scary for me sometimes, and I used my trekking poles and went slowly.

 

The scenery just kept changing as the hike went on but was gorgeous in different ways. While I was hiking alone, I’d see people fairly frequently along the way. It certainly didn’t feel crowded, but I also didn’t feel I would be in danger if something happened to me- someone would come to pass soon enough.

Throughout the hike, most of us kept our rain pack covers on. It just made sense as it would rain enough that taking it on and off was just extra work. This first day, I kept my rain jacket and pants on all day. Even when it wasn’t raining, this gear helped protect against the wind (and this was a “good” weather day). And yes, I had a 3 hat system that is super cool looking in the picture below. I kept my baseball cap on to protect my face from sun and rain. The beanie is for warmth, and then I’d put the rain hood on to protect against the rain.

 

Below you see a trail marker. The trail is very well marked, and when crossing a river or up and down mountains I got used to looking for the wooden stake. I didn’t use my GPS, but it was good to have as a backup. I can see how in fog or bad weather it could be hard to follow the trial, and some markers had been blown down (later, I’d meet some young British girls who were spending their summer break from university marking any issues with trail markers!).

We started running into snowfields, some of which we would end of crossing during the trek. One other good way to follow the trail was to follow the footprints.

The scenery changed and turned black:

I went up and down mountains among gorgeous electric green against black, orange, and white steam:

 

And then, it started feeling like walking into Mordor. Windy, rainy, and black:

Those little ant like figures are trekkers walking over the snow field:

You run into a memorial to a 25 year old who died in a blizzard (apparently ignored the warnings of the hut wardens). And what is crazy is that I think here you are maybe 20 minutes from the next hut, Hrafntinnusker. So close yet so far indeed.

 

I could not believe I was already at the first hut. I had made it by 11 am. So I’d taken a little more than 4 hours to do the first part of the hike. Lots of people had passed me, and I knew I was slow. Lonely Planet and other guides said this section would take 4-5 hours. I was making great time.

Here at Hrafntinnusker, I used the bathroom and met the basically famous to me at this point hut warden, Katie. She runs the blog Feathery Travels which is a great read to prep for the trek, and is active in the Facebook group. I asked her about the Canadians I had met, and she said they had been able to switch their hut reservation to Hrafntinnusker for the previous night. I was relieved to hear they had made it! I was really relieved not to be camping here, as it was windy and rainy (you can see some rings of rocks where the tent campers camp in the photo above).

Although not typically allowed, Arctic Adventures allowed trekkers to eat lunch in their tent (it was raining and windy). I had the same lunch for every day, tuna salad packet and tortilla, and various snacks. Part of the reason I made good time on the entire hike I think was that it was too cold to stop for very long to snack or rest. Moving is the key to staying warm, as anyone who has hiked in colder temperatures knows.

I started up again 11:30, feeling refreshed. It was still windy and rainy. Here you can see the trail marker and some of the steep terrain we had to navigate.

 

It got really cold and I pulled my Buff over my nose for warmth.

 

The scenery continued to be stunning.

I started to get into some of the most difficult (mentally challenging) sections of the hike. Some very steep uphills with my pack. I tried to focus on leaning forward, looking at my feet, and following other people up.

There was one very steep downhill leading to a very steep uphill. You had to step up basically to knee level to go up the mountain with a steep drop off. I started to get really scared that I could not do this with my pack. I starting really panicking and psyching myself out. A British man and woman came up behind me. The woman said “take off your pack and I will hand it up to you.” I did so for this little steep bit, and she brought my pack up to me. I then followed them up a very steep uphill in black sand with a drop off down the side, focusing on looking on my feet, leaning forward, and following their foot steps. I found out these two were chaperones to a group of British school kids (around 17 years old). They allowed the teens to do everything including camping and cooking themselves.

The picture above shows the hikers on a path I would eventually hike. And then we moved from this landscape that was like an alien’s painting to descend down a mountain.

 

The photos don’t really do the scenery justice. Seeing this scene made me cry with simply seeing the beauty of it. And perhaps with relief of having gotten this far, because it was hard. It was stunning. Jaw-dropping. Perhaps it’s the electric green against the black that makes it so beautiful.

 

Although I was descending a mountain, the heights were less scary since it was more gradual (still plenty steep). I also knew that Alfatavn, the hut and campsite, was near the lake you can see above. I’m almost there (um, kind of). As I saw Tal and Or, my Israeli couple friends, I was joyous at being so close to camp. I also knew there was a restaurant there.

 

I finally descended. Every time I got nervous about the heights I’d stop to just looking across the unreal scenery. There was a river to cross. I ran into a hiker who said you didn’t need to removed your shoes to cross it if you picked the right place; however, to me, it seemed easier just to change to my water shoes and cross in the around ankle deep water. At this point, it was similar to crossing the icy cold Colorado creeks.

This is the part of the creek that seems to go forever. The rain had let up and it was stunningly beautiful. But..WHEN WOULD I GET TO THIS HUT? It seemed like forever. At least it was flat. But I was getting truly exhausted, mentally as much as physically.

 

I was so excited as I approached the huts and campsite to see the RESTAURANT. I figured even if I camped, I could treat myself to the restaurant. I arrived around 4:30. So I took around 5 hours to make the second leg of the hike (estimated to take 3-5 hours). I was proud of myself for the time I made.

I asked if there were hut spaces available, which there were. Then I asked about the weather for camping that night. They said conditions would be around the same as the weather at that time, which was calm. So I camped. I actually felt like camping. Maybe I’m losing my mind. I thought this might be the most beautiful campsite in the world, but it was only my first Icelandic campsite.

 

I pitched and guyed out my little one man tent. I was proud of my setup, and I had a plan. I planned to make my backpacking meal, and then go to the restaurant and eat SECOND DINNER.

There was not a tent for campers here, so you were out on some tables in the cold to make dinner. I made my dehydrated backpackers meal out in the cold. Then I went to the little restaurant. Spending $20 USD for soup and bread suddenly sounded like the best deal ever. The chicken soup was delicious and the bread was hardy.

The little restaurant had a lake view. Just so gorgeous. I wanted to get a hot chocolate next. This was part of what made camping tolerable – having a warm place to hang out until bedtime.

Then, I saw my friends Tal and Or, the Israeli couple! I was really excited, and we hung out in the restaurant for a while swapping trail stories and talking about travel in general. It was great.

When I went to bed, there was a bit of wind and rain in the evening, but I was too exhausted to be too concerned and had to put faith in my tent and my pitching skills. I feel into a deep sleep that I wouldn’t usually fall into in a tent. But straight-up exhaustion got me. And my tent held well.

This day was maybe the single hardest day of my life, but the most incredibly stunning and beautiful day. I definitely struggled at points with the heights. Physically, it was challenging, but I knew it would be, and had been training all summer. Mentally, it was more challenging than I though. Some of the heights made me question why I thought I could do it. I didn’t grow up hiking or backpacking. I was never naturally good at physical activity (I have other talents, like reading quickly and spelling). I was last picked in every sport and a dodgeball target. But I knew I could do it, deep inside. And the effort, pain, struggle, and challenge was worth it for the reward; a once in a lifetime experience. And I had new found friends that helped me along the way. People aren’t so bad; they even want to help you occasionally. And when you’re on the trail, it doesn’t matter what language you speak or what country you are from; you are going through the same, unique experience, and it makes communication easier.