A Look Into Furufjordur

From Hrafnfjordur there is a trail that leads across to Furufjordur on the north coast. Our map referred to the route as a graded track but it was more like a rocky stream bed interrupted by the occasional meadow. We detoured to look inside an emergency shelter that was near where we left our dinghy before we set off. It was well equipped with a sleeping bag, pair of expedition boots (size 10), stove and simple food like pasta on the pantry shelf. The shelters in the area were originally intended to help shipwrecked sailors but now serve as an extra security for hikers.

It took us a few moments to find the start of the trail but once we found it, the going was fairly easy. The only inconvenience was the wind that pushed against us as we climbed up the valley and re-finding the trail when it turned into flower-covered meadow. At the far side of the meadow the trail crossed an elegant arched wooden bridge over a turbulent stream. The remains of a previous flat bridge lay beside it. An hour into our hike, we decided to stop for a snack and found a spot near a waterfall that offered some protection. The consistent rhythm of the water rushing down was relaxing and it was interesting to note how different the waterfalls in the are sounded from each other.

Krystina Walking Over The Bridge

As we continued along towards the high mountain lake that was feeding the waterfall, Krystina surprised an eider duck that was nesting next to the trail, exposing her nest with four eggs. After taking a quick peek, we hurried past the nest to encourage the mother to return. The lake was unfortunately not thermal but still impressive to look at as it stretched across the plateau.

Snow buntings made frequent appearances along the trail. Their white under bodies and black wings blended in well with the landscape, helping them disappear quickly. We also came across two well camouflaged purple sand pipers, the brown in their feathers matching the rock perfectly.

The trail started to descend into the next fjord, which was wider with a more open landscape than Hrafnsfjordur. Half way down the trail became an ancient built up track and we wondered what the valley had been like when it was inhabited. Once we got down to the base of the meadow and began making our way across, we realized we needed to cross a raging torrent that was being fed by the melting snow. Frances and David were finally able to find a spot to get across but Krystina valued her dry socks too much to follow. In the end they decided to turn around and we began making our way back up the rocky hillside.

Furufjordur

Besides some minor complaints from our leg muscles, going back was easier. With the wind behind us, we no longer felt as if we were being pushed backwards. On the way back we passed a sculpted basalt cliff face reputedly the home of the largest elf colony in the Westfjords. By the time we returned, everyone was glad that we had not continued all the way to the beach at Furufjordur which would have taken an additional two hours. Our instinct was to take a long nap after our 12 mile wander put practicality kicked in and we decided to stretch and have dinner. The 35 knots of wind that had picked up made keeping the dishes on the table interesting and we had to use tumblers instead of wine glasses.

For more photos please click on Hrafnfjordur and Furufjordur Album.