Foggy Volcano-crossing

Even bigger adventure awaits today, as we pack our gear, inhale bowls of oatmeal and Skyr, say goodbye to the duckies. The volcanoes are calling, and we must go. More specifically, Askja, a 50-km-square caldera, and hidden within, the mineral-rich blue water of the Viti crater. Plus, a challenging 80 km drive along the F-roads into the Highlands, using our little Duster to its fullest potential, with a couple of river crossings thrown in for good measure - Let's go!

It's not long before we turn off the Ring Road onto gravel. We pass by a village farmstead, with turf roof houses and a goat wandering about. Last stop before leaving civilization - there's gas, snacks and washrooms, plus camping and guesthouses available. We buy lamb's wool sweaters and coffee, and keep the camping option in mind.




Next came the most strenuous 80 km of off-road driving I've ever witnessed, and I give all the credit to Mario for getting us through unscathed and still happy. First it was gravel - easy. Gravel lead to small rocks, which lead to bigger rocks. Streams lead to small puddles, which lead to large puddles we had to cross, which lead to actual rivers we had to FORD - and successfully, I might add. Luckily, the BIG rivers had bridges(and thank goodness for that!), but then we entered the lava fields, with sharp rocks to contour, bumps and climbs to navigate. We traverse soft, deep black sand - the only easy part since it reacts the same as heavy snow back home.

At some point in all of this, we reach the Dreki base camp next to the Askja crater. One last climb to the car park awaits, but as we begin the ascent, heavy fog descends upon us. And when I say heavy, I mean so dense that can barely see the road, and are basically navigating from on road marker to the next. And they are maybe 20 ft. apart. It's scary, because we can't tell what surrounds us. We could have sheer cliffs on either side, and be inches away from certain death. There could be marauders, or vikings, or dragons! Relief washes over us when we spot other vehicles, an outhouse, the car park, but then torrential rain falls. GREAT. So we stretch out in the Duster, myself in the front, Mario in the back, make PB & J sandwiches, and wait out the storm in comfort.

Once we finally venture outside, the rain has lightened up, bu the fog is just as dense. We have to navigate the 2.5 km hiking trail along the crater much the same way as the drive up here, route marker to rote marker. But then the sky begins to clear, just enough to reveal the crater lakes and the vastness of what we just walked over. BREATH-TAKING.

We climb down the sticky mud slope to the edge of the lake, and find ourselves on a beach of multi-coloured lava stones. It feels, and sound, like we should be in a national park in the middles of Ontario. Instead of pine trees, the view across the water is lava cliffs, black rock striped with yellow sulfur and white silica. Small tidal pools along the shore are steaming, heated by underground geothermal vents. We admire the ability of a bright green algae to flourish here of all places, where no other life exists. Primordial soup.

Back up to the crater, Mario decided he wants to swim in the milky blue waters of Viti - which is totally do-able, the pool being a warm 25 degrees C, but the climb down is steep and slick with mud. So he makes like a seal, sliding his way down to the bottom, and then into the water he goes. I watch along with a few other spectators from the rim of the caldera.

The route back down is just as breath-taking, now that the fog had lifted and we can see everything! The volcano is SO vast, SO gaping, it seems to go on forever. The driving route is much the same, but new again now that we can gaze upon it. It's like driving a new road even though we've been here before! So we head back through the sand and lava fields and boulders, through the big rocks and small rocks into the gravel. We successfully ford those two rivers again, making all the quips about Oregon Trail and Tom dying from Dysentery. We splash through the puddles as it is getting late, but happen upon the campground in the farmstead with the turf roof houses, Modrudalur, or "sweater town" as we now affectionately call it. We decide the day has been long enough, and this is a great place to call it quits.