fimmtudagur, 19 júlí

Drove to Dettifoss - you could hear the waterfall (actually, waterfalls, as 11 m -high Selfoss was just upstream from it). The first thing that struck me was the landscape, again, the redness of the soil, the large rocks/boulders, strewn around by some force many years ago. There's evidence that a jökulhlaup was the architect of this rocky area, and the channels of the river exposed the centuries of volcanic diastrophism in beautiful striations.

Even at only 44 m, the water coming over Dettifoss seemed possessed. I've never seen water practically leap from the top of a waterfall and hurtle as powerfully as the grey, bubbly, glacial Jökullsá does.

Selfoss in distance; Dettifoss immediate left.

This hike was a Nature's showcase of power, geologic ages, and ecological systems and we experienced getting drenched by the mist of 27 m-high Hafragilfoss "Oatmeal Canyon Falls" (and the silty water looked a great deal like oatmeal), descending 30 m or so by rope (love that stuff!), walking from grass-covered river banks over a 10 m ridge to black sand dunes, bushy plains, and oh yes, getting buzzed by many (and mini) mý - the bug nets were a necessary accoutrement this leg of the trip. This hike was around 10 - 12 km, I think. My feet could swear it was more.

The water in this little cove was really all those colors.

Flowers we saw looked like a type of mini-thyme, orchids, snow-in-the-winter, hólurt (which was fast becoming my favorite Icelandic flower), and a flower that looked remarkably like our northwest fireweed.

Hólurt

Alpine gentian

Sveini and the Big Yellow Bus met us for tea with cookies, tea, and coffee - but no mugs. However, improvisation was at a very high point, so new glassware was fashioned from soda bottles!

We then drove to Hljóðaklettar, "Echoing Rocks", where several unique basalt edifices were formed by no doubt several types of volcanic activity - the shapes, that of a troll, church, and castle, were wildly unusual. The architect who designed Hallgrímskirkja is said to have received his inspiration for the church's basalt-like columns from the true basalt hexagonal shapes in this area. Some of the rocks look like they have faces on them!

We loaded ourselves back onto the bus to play the continuing game of road lane roulette - actually quite civilized in Iceland - and we often exchanged smiles and waves. Who knows what nationalities were passing each other in the dust of northern Iceland? Blue, blue skies, infinite horizon, zen-like in composition and color - in fact, there were a few areas that looked like pictures I've seen of Mongolia, except for the tendency for huge boulders to appear out of nowhere, compliments of a long-ago jökulhlaup. We arrived back at the campsite for a dinner of fried fish, which stuck to the ribs nicely.

There were many families at this campground and kids were everywhere! It was quite a happy place. The amenities were nice, too - drying cabinets, free outlets to plug in iPods, phones, cameras. Private showers with changing rooms. While dinner was being prepared, and man and his 2 yr old wandered over to the bus and the young child leaned up against the bottom step. He was really, really interested in getting on that bus if only he could be adventurous enough! I walked over, ready to be the bus escort again, and spoke a little Icelandic to the little boy. The father was thrilled to hear an American trying their language, but the little boy stuck out his tongue, looked like he was about to cry, and ran to his father. His father, seizing the moment for similarities, pulled off his son's "buff" (jersey "tube" that is worn around the head or neck if really chilled) to show me his son's red hair. This, of course, further made me akin to the Devil as far as this child was concerned, but he calmed down when his mother came over and we all talked about the trip our group was on, how beautiful this area was, and how neat that yellow bus was! Finally, Snæbjörn decided I was all right and he boldly approached the bus and started climbing the stairs. His mom went with him and they played a game of fastening seatbelts, driving, arriving, undoing seatbelts (which he didn't want to do) and his dad, Þorður, and I kept chatting. Suddenly, the bus started up, and you have never seen eyes get as big as Snæbjörn's! Sveini had snuck into the driver's seat (the mom saw him do that and knew what was coming), and we laughed so hard at the total surprise on "Snowbear's" face! What a cutie! The lure of the bus was too strong, though - he came back a couple of times that night.