Helpful Information & Tips about Hiking in Iceland
Trails and Cross-Country Travel
Iceland has very few official hiking trails. The 46-mile Laugavegur is the longest; several popular areas -- including Skaftafell and Snaefelljokull National Parks, Askja, Detifoss, and Porsmork -- have small networks of trails that are suitable for day hiking. Lonsoraefi Nature Preserve has a few marked trails. Most "official" trails began as use-trails/cross-country routes, and they therefore generally lack the features of a constructed trail: switchbacks, erosion controls, benching, avoidance of pointless-ups-and-downs, etc.
Even though official hiking trails are limited, there are plenty of informal routes -- sheep paths, 4x4 tracks, centuries-old roads, lightly traveled bridal trails, old cross-country routes, etc.
There is an ideal elevation range for cross-country travel. It varies throughout the country, but generally it is well above sea level (where the grass, gnats, and moss carpets are thick, a) but somewhere below the glaciers (where there is bullet-proof ice, loose rocks, and quicksand). In this ideal range, I usually found short grass, thin moss blankets, and settled gravel. There are many exceptions to this rule though: within this ideal range I still encountered boggy moorlands, mountainsides of loose scree, and impassable cliff bands.
Whenever I was concerned about whether my chosen cross-country route would "go," i.e. whether it would be passable, I watched for sheep tracks. Sheep seem to have discovered every passable pass and cliff break in Iceland, so oftentimes I navigated successfully through difficult or technical sections by following their prints and poop.
Cross-country navigation is of mixed difficulty. In some respects it is very easy: most of Iceland is "big sky country," so I could usually see where I wanted to go and how to best get there. But in other respects it is very difficult. Low-hanging clouds (and, in the interior, sandstorms) often limited my visibility. More importantly, the topography is not distinctly featured with prominent mountains, deep canyons, and the like, so measuring progress or identifying my exact location was a challenge. (Tip: Pay close attention to where you are at all times to avoid having to "find" yourself.) And the landscape is not intuitive or straightforward -- it has been crafted by a conflicting combination of glaciers, rapid erosion, lava flows, flash flooding, etc. By comparison, the current topography in the High Sierra or the Rockies was created by a singular force -- glaciers.
Even though I appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, if I was walking along a vehicle track it was likely that I would see other people. This was especially the case if I were on access routes to popular Interior destinations like Askja or Kerlingafjoll. Traveling through the Highlands by vehicle is a very popular thing to do, not just with Icelanders but also with Europeans, who ferry over their pimped-out vehicles across the North Sea.
Terrain & Landscape
Trees are virtually non-existent in Iceland. In most of the country, it's too windy and too cold for most of the year; the soil is too erosion-prone and doesn't hold moisture; and centuries of over-extraction and under-replenishment have resulted in a diminished tree population. (The trees were used to build Iceland's large fishing fleet, and then the saplings were eaten by the abundant sheep.)
Most of Iceland is covered in grass, moss, gravel, sand, or ice -- or some combination thereof. There is significant variation within each covering. For example, fields at sea level produce grass that is thick and long; moorlands are distinguished by grass-covered pillars of soil; and just below alpine the grass is similar to that on a golf course -- thick and short.
Exposure to the elements is constant and relentless -- there is little natural protection from wind, rain, blowing sand, sun and bugs. I was very pleased that I was mostly prepared for this: I had a windshirt, good raingear, and a long-sleeve shirt; I brought polarized and clear lenses so that I could wear my sunglasses in low-light; my shelter was 4-season worthy; and I had a headnet to keep the gnats away.
Hazards
Near the ocean I would frequently encounter small flocks of arctic terns. One of the terns would dive-bomb me while the others flew away. I found that my trekking poles offered wonderful protection from this aggressor -- I would hold one over my head and swing it back and forth like a pendulum. If I did not do this, the tern would be so bold as to knock my head.
I walked across one 400-meter long glacier and regretted it. It was mid-July and I was only at 500 feet, so the snow that had fallen on the glacier during the winter had long melted off. Underneath was bullet-proof ice that really required sharp crampons (and, for additional safety, an ice axe), which I did not have. Even at higher elevations, by mid-July most of lower portions of the glaciers were not snow-covered. In retrospect, I would have either stayed off the glaciers entirely, carried crampons, or gone earlier in the summer when the glaciers would have still been snow-covered and I could get away with my running shoes.
There are no mosquitoes in Iceland, which is shocking considering how much standing water there is. But there are non-biting gnats that can be very pesky on warm, calm days, which (at least in this regard) thankfully there are few of. I am happy that I had a headnet to avoid the dive-bombing of my eyes, nostrils, and ears.
Fording glacier-fed rivers is nerve-wracking, dangerous, and sometimes impossible. These rivers are extremely silty, like the Colorado, and it is difficult to gauge their depths. I used clues like the river's surface (i.e. the wave pattern), rate of flow, width, and braid patterns to determine the safest crossing points. I also used my trekking poles to prod in front of me as I was going across, unless I needed them firmly planted for stability. The water was extremely cold, just above freezing; I once had to stop mid-stream in order to allow a beach ball-sized chunk of ice float past me. The glaciers melt more in the daytime and on warm/sunny days, so schedule your day to ford glacier-fed rivers in the morning or at night when the melting has slowed down.
Because of the extensive hut system, I was never far from safety, even in Iceland's most remote regions. Of course, I can hike 40 miles a day, so I can reach a hut faster than someone who hikes shorter distances.
Weather & Weather Patterns
I was in Iceland from mid-July through early-August, and the weather that I experienced was fairly average according to the locals. It rained on at least half of the days -- not as a downpour, but in continuous waves of horizontal-blowing rain pellets that sometimes would drench one side of my body while the other side remained perfectly dry. Often there was a thick overcast of low-hanging clouds. There was almost always a wind, occasionally strong enough to knock me around for hours at a time. The weather was superb for one 6-day stretch -- it was warm, sunny, and calm. Nighttime lows were usually in the mid-40's, with a low of 37; daytime highs were usually in the mid-50's with a high of about 75.
When the wind is blowing from the south (indicating a weather system from the Atlantic), expect warmer temperatures and more precipitation. This weather pattern is dominant in the summer. When the wind is blowing from the north (indicating a weather system from the Arctic), expect colder temperatures and drier air. This weather pattern is dominant in the winter.
Southeastern Iceland (Rekjavik). Perpetual mist, showers, and downpours as Atlantic storms move overhead. Its proximity to the ocean and its low elevation make snow a rarity -- it does not get "cold" here very often. The weather is similar to Seattle.
South coast. At sea level, the weather is similar to Reykjavik. But slightly inland are some of Iceland's biggest mountains/volcanoes and highest sustained elevations. The Orographic lift of Atlantic storms causes this region to receive heavy amounts of precipitation, much of it as snow. There is a good reason that several of Iceland's largest glaciers (including its biggest, Vetnajokull) are located just inland of the south coast.
Snaefellsnes Peninsula and Northwest Fjords. These isolated land masses get pummeled by both Atlantic and Arctic storms, which are going full blast when they make landfall. These areas also feature dramatic vertical relief -- from sea level to as high as 4,500 feet in a very short distance -- so the effects of the Orographic relief (e.g. namely wind and precip) is extreme.
Interior/Highlands. Just north of and just below the largest glacier in Europe, Vetnajokull, this vast expanse of glacial debris is home to some of the most challenging conditions in the country. It is does not rain here often (Vetnajokull wrenches out most of the moisture from passing storms) but it is usually very windy because of the differentials in temperature and atmospheric pressure between the air mass above Vetnajokull and the air mass above the Highlands. Specifically, the cold air above the glacier rushes into the warmer air above the Highlands. Beware of sand storms in this area -- make sure to have clear lenses for your sunglasses (ideally, glacier glasses) and clothing that will fully protect your skin.
Northern Iceland. I did not get up to this region, but I am told that during the summer it is usually warmer and sunnier than regions to the south. This probably has to do with Atlantic storms petering out as they move overland.
Logistics & Resupply
I was able to rely on passing vehicles for water when I was walking along heavily traveled vehicle tracks like F910 and F26.
Food is ludicrously expensive in Iceland, and I was very happy that I brought almost all of mine over from the US. I had to pay an important tax since my food weighed more than the permitted limit. I think the limit was 3kg and every kilogram beyond that was taxed at about $1. Given the price of food in Iceland ($13 for a pint of Ben & Jerry's) this was an excellent investment on my part.
