Waterfalls and Glaciers: The Diamond Circle

From Mývatn we retraced our route about forty minutes to Dettifoss and then continued another twenty minutes to the turnoff for Rauðhólar. This isolated geological marvel should not be confused with the site by the same name located just outside Reykjavik. We could see the red hills that the site was named for in the distance but their visibility was deceptive. We had to trudge along the dirt path for almost an hour through what seemed like an endless lush carpet of green and purple scrub before we finally arrived at the base.

A trail led us close to the crest of the tallest hill but a rope prevented hikers from treading on the red surface of oxidized scoria. Up close the maroon slope of the hill was even more impressive, especially when contrasted with the greenery that was attempting to overtake one side. On the side of the hill that faced the river the red scoria mixed with black in a streaky pattern. In the other direction a steep and narrow trail led downward towards the irregular lava pillars of Hljóðaklettar.

We saw some more intrepid hikers braving the steep path but we opted for a more prudent route at the base of the hill. In the end we decided not to make the journey all the way down to the river to see the formations of Hljóðaklettar up close. I've since wondered if we might have missed a very unique experience, but the extra hour would have meant skipping something else later in the day. I was still thankful that I had figured out a way to fit Rauðhólar into our itinerary since both the walk through the green and purple field and the views from the top of the hill had been amazing.

We continued north on 862 and eventually intersected with 85, a long loop that provides access to the northeastern coast of Iceland while the Ring Road courses inland. Just a few miles east we found the turn-off to Ásbyrgi Canyon and had a quick lunch at a service station. Ásbyrgi isn't one of Iceland's best known sites, probably because no one makes it there unless they have more than a week to complete the entire Ring Road with time to spare to venture into the northeast. That was fortunate for us because if Ásbyrgi was on the Golden Circle it would be so packed with tourists that the atmosphere would be completely destroyed. Ásbyrgi was completely different from the narrow gorges we had seen previously in Iceland. The canyon was an enormous horseshoe-shaped sloping depression with walls of sheer basalt. As one proceeds further into the canyon the walls become higher until they reach a breathtaking one hundred meters. A separate tongue of basalt called Eyjan extends from the beginning of the canyon into the center where it suddenly terminates in a sheer cliff. From the road, Eyjan looks like a giant monolith in the middle of the canyon but it is an illusion. Behind the cliff is a strip of land that gradually converges with the rising ground level.

A short, easy trail led from the parking area through a wood to an algae filled pond at the base of the basalt cliffs. Here the cliffs were at their tallest and most impressive. It was hard to believe that something so immaculate could have occurred through the chaotic forces of volcanism and flooding. The ancient Icelanders must have felt the same way as they concluded the canyon was a hoofprint of Sleipnir, the eight-legged horse of Odin. In more modern terms it was like a scene from a video game where the cliffs defined the boundary of a virtual world. The basalt had developed a chunky, faceted appearance from years of erosion and displayed patches of red from oxidation and green from plant life. There was one viewing platform at the water level and another on a slope overlooking the pond.

The path on the slope ended adjacent to the cliff, where a sign warned that rocks fell from the walls at frequent intervals. Dusty chunks of basalt at the foot of the cliff testified to the truth of the warning. That didn't seem to deter many visitors but was enough for me to keep that part of our exploration brief. The texture and coloration of the stone walls was even more impressive up close.

I was so taken aback by the awesomeness of Ásbyrgi that I completely forgot about my plan to walk the two kilometer trail to the top of Eyjan, which would have afforded a bird's eye view of the entire parabolic extent of the cliff face. I only felt a sudden pang of regret once we were already well on our way to Húsavík. Regardless, the cliffs of Ásbyrgi had been even more breathtaking than Rauðhólar. It had definitely been a wise decision to complete the Diamond Circle rather than driving straight to Akureyri from Mývatn.

The main draw of the coastal city of Húsavík is the profusion of whale watching boats that depart from the port. That wasn't an option for us as Mei Ling gets seasick easily and the boys are somewhat susceptible to it as well. I've heard a lot of horror stories about seasickness on those trips. We stopped in the town just to get a quick look at the port and see the Whale Museum, which I would describe as modestly interesting. The green and white town church was an attractive landmark in the upper part of town overlooking the port.

We continued west on 85 from Húsavík which eventually terminated once more at the Ring Road. Here we reversed direction eastward a short distance and found the turn-off for Goðafoss. Like Dettifoss, there are two roads leading to opposite sides of the waterfall although in this case it's a much shorter drive to go from one to the other. Goðafoss translates to "waterfall of the gods", a name it received when the Icelandic chieftain Thorgeir Thorkelsson tossed his pagan idols into the cataract in the 11th century after deciding the country would bow to pressure from Norway and convert to Christianity. It has the reputation of being one of the most beautiful waterfalls in Iceland but after seeing so many over the previous week we couldn't find much to set it apart from the rest. The wind was exceptionally strong and cold so we decided against taking the path down to the lower level or visiting the opposite side.

We finally rolled into Akureyri without much time to spare before dinner. We had a beautiful drive down the shore of Eyjafjörður which gave us a nice preview of the city on the other side. Eyri Restaurant was in a tiny suburb called Hjalteyri, about fifteen minutes north of the city. Aside from the restaurant there were nine or ten houses and the obligatory abandoned fish processing plant. Beyond the plant we could see the snowcapped mountains on the other side of the fjord. There was a playground with one of those colorful bubble trampolines that the kids seem to never get tired of. The restaurant was a farm-to-table type of place with a great reputation but I suspect they were short-staffed or otherwise having an off night. Fortunately we had already learned to temper our expectations regarding dining out in Iceland. We had a short drive to our guest house which was also north of the city and crashed almost immediately thanks to another exhausting day.