A Fond Farewell From Iceland
July 30, 2024
On the morning of the 26th, ICE 3B awoke at the Skjól camp and followed its usual routine. The kids, conditioned to early-ish, fast paced mornings, swiftly carried out their duties, and met in the kitchen tent for breakfast. Our day centered about a day hike in the center of Iceland – the farthest north we’d been, or would be, for the entire trip – at a mountain named Kerlingafjöll (or, ‘the old lady mountain). The innermost reaches of the country are only accessible by dirt/gravel roads, and we drove two hours on a bumpy byway through a desolate countryside. This country, though comparatively small, is extremely rugged; consequently, there’s no ‘easy way’ around – a thirty mile drive can take hours, and even the most trivial of commutes often involve the traversal of some major landscape feature or other. Anyways, after a few hours of shaking, we pulled into a broad campground and hotel facility in a low, green river valley encircled by tall, multicolored mountains and foothills. At this moment, the group was forced to split: Josephine, a bit sick from the day before, and I stayed behind while the rest of the group struck off on the trail up the mountain. It just didn’t make sense for her to join, the weather was too temperamental, and the safe call was to hang back and rest – so we did. We walked with the group for a time and, then, turned back to explore the campgrounds and hotel. We sat in a visitor’s center for a time and chatted, bought a quick lunch at the restaurant, and sat around in the van while the rest of the gang toiled on trail — oh, how they toiled: our guide, Zach, doesn’t play around when it comes to day hikes, and the group marched deep into the mountains amidst intermittent rain and wind. In the course of their adventure, they got a taste of Iceland’s most characteristic landscape feature: volcanos. Millenia of eruptions, dormancies, regrowths, and eruptions dominate the geography of the small island nation: grand, multicolored mountains of iron, silicon, sulfur, and basalt found grand, austere landscapes. Regular eruptions effuse ash and magma which regularly decimate any upgrowth that manages to emerge in the intervening years and, meanwhile, sows a wealth of color and contrast into the landscape. Nevertheless, life persists, and dense grass and weeds spring up on the banks of the rivers and streams, themselves filled with volcanic glass, that carve their way through these volatile peaks. With each session, Alli and I discover new and exciting ways in which this country’s landscape stands to vex and confound the efforts of its inhabitants, but I believe that Peyton summarized the day’s encounter best: “naturally occurring peanut-butter” – I.e. mud; lots of it. the day’s rain uncovered a thick, orange-ish mud along the slopes of the trail which caked and adhered to anything and everything it touched. The gang slid uphill, they slid downhill, they slid sideways, but they slid on. I should mention that our guide, Zach, has a real knack for dissimulation; despite the campers’ best efforts to glean intent and objective, Zach artfully manages to dissuade, misdirect, and discourage all attempts at uncovering any sort of details surrounding daily operations – from time on trail, to distance, to weather, Zach always comes out on top. He manages to concoct the perfect blend of truth, ‘untruth,’ and ambiguity, such that each student is left just short of bewildered. At times, even we, the leaders, were forced to question his intentions. All of that said, there is no hint of malice in his efforts: Zach’s illusions are carefully calculated to guide campers to heights they never imagined themselves capable of reaching: like a rather swarthy Bulgarian siren, his sultry song promises reprieve around the next visible corner where naught but dismay awaits and, conversely, conceals sweetest reliefs (namely, campsites and cookies) behind rivers, hills, and hollers. I have not the heart – nor the poker face – to execute such guile, but I sure am glad that he’s on our side. Zach strung the kids along, hill after hill. Upon reaching the top, Layla asked, ‘is this the photo from the website” With the hike finished, Zach led the students on a meandering path to a hot spring. The speaker carried our team home, that day – Sara and Parish, in particular. A few returned, but Lindley, Walker, Peyton, Henry, Baker, and Elvis enjoyed the spring, a hop in a nearby river, and back into the spring. The group met back up at the bus and made the long, bumpy road back to Skjöl. We arrived at camp late in the evening, ate chicken burritos, and crawled into our tents for the night.
We stretched out the following day and began a routine that would, now, be mundane if it wasn’t for the surrounding mountains and the regular eruptions of a geyser in the near distance: Iceland never fails to delight, and neither does muesli. Some might term our day leisurely: I mean ALL we were going to do was snorkel in some of the most pristine water on earth in the tectonic divide between North America and Europe – no biggie. We had a short drive ahead of us, so we packed in the van and drove straight for Silfra, stopping at a rest station on the way for lion bars and restrooms. We got to the venue and instantly began dressing in horrifically unflattering dry suits. Once we all looked sufficiently fish-like, we split into groups and began our guided tour. The water was, indeed, stunning – stunningly cold: a chilling 35 degrees, but we were largely untouched in our dry suits and fleece overalls (the down to our duck). The suits act as flotation devices, ensuring that we were either face down or belly up for the entire float. So we scooted and searched down the current until our lips were blue and met back at the van for cookies and hot chocolate. We emerged from our neoprene prisons, hopped in the van, and bumped on down the road back to Skjöl. Upon arrival, the gang enjoyed the weather and played with a local kid on the blob. If no one else, I’m sure that Evie was ready to abandon us entirely for our new friend. However, the call of pizza broke the spell, and we moved into the restaurant for a pizza party. To say we glutted ourselves is sort of misleading: we had as much pie in front of us as we could hope – much, much more in fact. A war was fought on that table, that evening; personally, I’m proud to have served with your boys. Walker, Peyton, Henry, and Baker ate with particular distinction. With dinner over, the students spread out and prepared to sleep off the meal: some waddled back to the blob and engaged in a brief melee, others showered, and one ended up in a small puddle. At day’s end, we all ended up in our respective sacks, and slept away our last night at Skjöl.
Our next morning, we packed up and bid farewell to Skjöl – we were on to greener pastures (literally), but we’d have to brave the ocean to get there. We had a date with a whale: a Minke whale, to be specific. So, like all good sailors, we ate our muesli and yogurt with particular resolve that morning. We took a short, four hour van ride; seriously boosted the earnings of a road-side gas station; dropped our trailer at our next campsite; and hopped on a ship in search of whales and plunder. Dramamine? Check. Rain gear? Check. Enthusiasm? Ch-check. Elvis, Walker, Peyton, and Baker b-lined it for the upper deck, some of the gang retreated into the cabin to avoid spray, and then it happened: a Minke whale three points off the starboard bow. In celebration, Walker, Lindley, Baker, and Josephine practiced their Michael Jackson ‘lean’ against the pitch and roll of the ship. The Iceland BAB crew is now, officially, 1/3 on whale watching tours. We did it, folks. We returned to the harbor and disembarked with the swagger of so many Vikings – hungry, Vikings. Thereafter, we returned to our new campsite: Bjarteyjarsandur sheep farm. The pastures were, indeed, greener: the farm is just wedged between the waters and mountains of a grand fjord. Sheep dogs and Rams roam, seemingly, at will, and the kids played soccer with an unbelievably cute young collie. After we set up tents, the students trickled into the farm house for dinner: fish stew. We ate and watched a few Olympic qualifiers in the dining room, letting everyone around us know that America’s guys are way better at freestyle swimming than their guys. We slammed some cheesecake, I shaved my beard, and sat at our table for a nice, thoughtful moonup led by our LODs, Sara and Walker. We entered our tents for the last time, and we slept like rocks.
The next morning, the group broke their tents and ate their muesli for the last time. As we were preparing to leave camp, Walker, Evie, and Peyton watched a wizened Ram walk directly into the farm house and pee right on the floor. I believe they have it on camera – a stunningly brazen performance on the part of that ram. Well, we drove off to Reykjavík and made our way to the Perlan ‘wonders of Iceland’ Exhibition Center. The center is roughly 6 stories and features a variety of entertainment and informational exhibits. The kids walked through some museum-like pieces on volcanic activity and natural history before making their way through a man-made ice cave. It was pretty cool (sorry). We made a mad rush to the restaurant on the top floor but largely failed to secure anything apart from cake and muffins. The early birds, Henry and Peyton, got the fish n’ chips (the place was packed) and we all rolled on to a gas station where the rest of us lowly peasants ate subway. Subs being secured, we made a short drive to a lava tunnel, our last activity. The tour was short but worthwhile. The tunnel was formed long ago by the gradual cooling of lava en route to the ocean; oh, and it’s unfathomably dark in the inner reaches. The guide brought us about and, here and there, explained features and phenomena for an intermingled crowd of teenagers and bemused foreigners. On our return, the gang began its drive back to Reykjavík, and enjoyed one final van ride together. For banquet, Zach brought us out for pizza, a souvenir shop, and gelato joint across the street: it was nice. Pockets lighter and bellies full, we rolled on to the bus hostel for our final night as a group.
Well, the Kids, Alli, and I are en route home, and I just want to say, again, what a pleasure it has been leading your kids. In spite of all the adversity, in spite of ‘tha bug,’ your kids really cohered as a group, and we will dearly miss their company. This session was special for us — the perfect wrap up to another excellent summer with Moondance. Thank you, again, for trusting us with your children — It has been a delight.
Thorsmork Hills to Freshwater Chills!
July 26, 2024
On Tuesday morning, ICE 3B awoke after a long night’s rest in Thorsmork to a breakfast of warm porridge awaiting in the kitchen tent. Our sore legs and aching feet acted as a constant, egging reminder of our recent accomplishment, and I think we all felt that we’d turned a corner. The morning passed quietly, and, once we’d packed our trailer, the team set off on a bumpy gravel road towards Selfoss. We spent the first hour of the drive in quiet, reflective awe of our surroundings and the now unfamiliar feeling of van seats beneath us. The students sang along to music and slept as our van traversed river and valley towards the first bit of asphalt we’d seen in five days – we were glad to have her back. A few hours passed, and we pulled into a space just in front of the Selfoss Geothermal Pool, home to pools, slides, saunas, and jacuzzis – a word which originates in the Icelandic phrase, ‘ja, excuse me, I’m cold’ (cue laughter). Well, after days on trail, the geothermal pool may as well have been eden: I think we all got the R&R that we needed . Afterwards, the group gathered in a nearby foothill for burgers and ice-cream. Elvis and Peyton lamented the missed opportunity to purchase a ‘grovis Santa clause’ (don’t ask), and, then, the van rolled on towards our lodging for the night: a hut (with four solid walls)! We spread out in the hut and enjoyed one another’s company: Josephine and Baker played ‘war,’ Sara and Parish were engaged in some sort of back-and-forth involving handstands, Walker and Layla built houses of cards, Henry and Peyton played, still, more chess, and Elvis lounged in the top corner of the mega bunk and offered occasional commentary on his fellows’ pursuits. Somewhere in the mix, Zach rolled out dinner – Icelandic hot dogs. We spread out, snacked, and savored these civilized comforts.
The next morning, we woke up in the hut and had a leisurely breakfast on warm porridge. We were all sort of bleary eyed from a long night’s sleep, and we took our time of leaving. After packing the van, we drove from our hut to the Skjól camp and set up our tents in anticipation of a long day rafting. In a couple of hours, we were setting camp and waiting around for our rafting reservation. At 2:30, we packed our bags and left for the rapids. Upon arrival, the guides outfitted the group in wetsuits, gloves, and neoprene boots – after which we donned our helmets and hopped in a bus for a short drive to the put-in. Our guide gave the group a safety brief, and the whole group piled in a single raft and set out on the water. The float starts with a bang and, with Walker and Baker manning the helm, the group bombed through the first rapid, ‘Alarm Clock,’ and down the river. The boat was just slightly crowded, and I think we struggled at times to coordinate our paddling in an efficient – or even effective – way, but that just made the rapids all the more interesting. I watched Walker and Josephine swallow a face-full of water on rapid #2 and come up smiling. After the first few rapids, our guide beached the boat on the shoals of a small gorge, where the group got out and jumped from the cliff bordering the river. Elvis jumped off and, unsatisfied, came back for seconds. The cliff marked the end of the ‘intense’ portion of our float, and the last hour or so was spent cruising and perusing. Evie jumped from the boat and floated a rapid, Josephine tried, we all largely failed to stand up in the boat, and Sara was lured into a false sense of security and summarily thrown into the water by our guide. It was an excellent time. When the group arrived back at the rafting camp, we returned our gear and hit the hot tubs. Lindley, a little under the weather, rejoined the group in the tub, seemingly restored to her usual, cheery self. It was a good day. When we emerged from the tubs and saunas, the gang ate burgers and fries cooked by the raft guides, and, afterwards, we drove to a local dairy farm for even more ice cream. The campers sat around, naming cows and enjoying the cream, while Henry and I chatted on a bench and enjoyed our edible spoons. With our Ice cream now consumed, we cruised home for a well-earned night’s rest.
Your kids have been a delight! With trekking over, we’ve got a little less than a week to spend with them, and we’re savoring every moment.
Thanks,
Alli and Daniel
From Bleary Eyes to Blissful Sighs: An Iceland Adventure
July 25, 2024
Iceland 3B arrived at the airport early in the morning last Wednesday – they were quiet, bleary-eyed, and ready for a long, long rest; the only catch? It was seven in the morning. So, what were we to do? How could we possibly soothe their sulking spirits? How does one turn the tides of despondency amongst eleven teenagers? Simple: spa day! However, we had a few stops to make before our appointment. Captained by our fearless guide, Zach, the gang made a few stops about the environs of Reykjavik – one active geothermal hot spring and the bridge between continents – before settling down at a park for a quick lunch. The campers joined a few local kids on a land-locked blob, and then we bounced to the lagoon. Let me tell ya, the lagoon was lux: hot showers, warm, waist-high waters, and occasional cold plunges for those so inclined. In fact, a few students were wholly inclined: Elvis, Peyton, and Lindley took a rather liberal interpretation of the word ‘plunge’ and sat in the frigid waters for no less than twenty-five minutes. While I, your humble scribe, duly noted their feat from the warm, warm vantage of the lagoon. Anyway, after a couple of hours’ lounge in the waters, we marched on to the hostel for a pleasant and much-needed night’s rest.
In the AM, we awoke and packed our duffels into Zach’s van to strike out for the starting line of our trek. It was about a three-hour drive, but we stopped on the way at a bakery for a spot of ostraloft and, later, at a waterfall. Afterwards, our road led the van o’ vandals up a winding gravel path all the way to the site of our first hike. That day, Iceland gave us a taste of its characteristic weather: rain and wind – lots of it. We made and ate a quick sandwich and hit the trail, never mind the weather. It was a short hike, but the wind scattered the moderate rain into our faces, soaking us through and through. After about a mile and a half, we reached our first river of the trail and donned water shoes for the crossing. If we weren’t wet and cold before, we sure were after; that said, I never heard a kid complain. We walked another third of a mile when we arrived at the Aftlavatan camp and settled into the hut to escape the elements. Though we hadn’t reserved the hut, there were no other contesters, and we found ourselves in need. The small, two-storied hut sported a red tin roof and stone flooring; inside, everything about it exuded comfort, and we cozied up to games of Mafia and observed an abiding gratitude for whatever authority maintained that little red refuge.
About an hour later, our transport truck arrived, carrying all the food, tents, and duffels we would need for the evening, and we busied ourselves unpacking and setting up camp. Once all our tents were up, we returned to the hut for dinner: cheesy salmon pasta – just what the doctor ordered. We ate exceedingly well – a warm, bountiful meal has a funny way of exciting an appetite for camaraderie and conversation, and we sated that, too. Afterwards, our LODs, Peyton and Lindley, courteously covered the dishes, and we all retreated to our tents after a quick moonup in the hut.
The following day was set to be our longest, so we woke up early and packed up camp in the rain. The rain-fly of a tent has a tendency to amplify the sound of the rain outside, but, upon exiting, one usually finds it less dramatic than expected; nevertheless, it always seems to make it that much harder to get on out. Anyway, we ate muesli in the hut and washed it down with hot chocolate; afterwards, the gang packed packs and struck off on the trail, and the rain reached out to meet us. The first few miles were slow, but we quickly got into a groove – especially once the weather abated. The hours flowed like minutes, and we were stopped and munching on sandwiches before we knew it. The weather came in steady waves, but we moved steadily onwards through rolling hills of moss, boulder fields, and, ultimately, a wide riverbed. Once there, we made our last major river crossing of the day and scurried to the edge of a small hot spring – itself, tucked into a corner of the expansive river valley – for a dip. The rain came and went, but the kiddos couldn’t care less – the warm, silty waters of the spring shielded its occupants from wind and water alike. Eventually, we emerged from the waters and changed back into our hiking clothes for the last leg of the day. After another hour on the trail, we settled into Strútur camp and waited, again, for our transport truck to arrive. Seated in front of a large picnic table sandwiched between the Strútur hut and the restroom complex, the gang watched Zach’s silhouette walk along a tall mountain ridge in search of cell service to call our driver. After about an hour, the truck arrived, and we set up camp about the small mountain camp, starting with our great kitchen tent – our mobile refuge and the house of our hopes, dreams, and soggy socks. Zach set about cooking dinner, the campers set their tents, and we all enjoyed the respite at the tail of our longest trek of the trip. Dinner was lamb stew – hot and hearty: we ate just beyond our fills, and Josephine and Baker led the group in a moonup, posing the question, ‘who’s your biggest role model?’ After closing moonup, we settled into our respective sacks and tucked in for the night. and settled into sacks after a more than successful day on the trail.
The next morning, the group followed its usual routine: they packed up their duffels, took down their tents, and met for breakfast in the kitchen tent before, ultimately, dissembling the aforementioned kitchen tent. So, we did all those things and started our day on the trail with a bang – a hill: a long, long hill. On the bright side, it was among the only hills of the day and a nice warmup for the cruise to come; or so we thought. The day’s trail was flat and mossy – a boon for weary, foot-sore hikers such as we – and rather short. We were making good time – too good – so Zach brought the company up a mountain (this is becoming something of a theme). The views were nothing short of stunning – Alli and I have seen our fair share of peaks, but this one stands among the best. The terrain was staggering: sharp, severe mountains erected from sprawling, treeless valleys of moss and black sand with grand, sprawling glaciers looming in the distance. We soaked in the views for a moment and then began a ridge walk in the direction of our camp. We encountered harsh, buffeting winds along the top, but it all felt…idyllic – like our just desserts for defying the low roads and finding our place at the summit. As it turns out, the way down was significantly harder than the way up – we slipped and slid down the slope, left our mark in a sort of time capsule, and cruised down a steep, steep hill into our camp: Hvanngil. We set up our tents about the broad, grassy valley and burrowed into the second story of a small barn on site – there, the gang met a new friend: Robin the Netherlander, who made a big splash with our kids – especially Elvis, Sara, Evie, and Parish. While they talked of soccer, American education, and music, Lindley, our resident card shark, gathered rocks from outside to use as chips in a game of Texas hold ’em. Zach finished up dinner: spaghetti Bolognese. The gang ate well (another theme) and spread about the campsite for Mafia. Lindley and Evie went on a run under a double rainbow, as the rest of us stretched out under the split sky – part blue and part clouded – in awe.
We woke up late the next morning and broke camp before meeting for breakfast in the barn. We ate a leisurely breakfast and left camp around 11. Our hike was a short one, and the group sped through it in four short hours. Our trail brought us through that same black sand desert we’d spied from the mountaintop – again, quite flat – and down into Ermstrur camp. The camp is tucked away at the foot of a broad glacier. A thin stream runs down from the glacier, into the mountains, and down through the camp. Vegetation grows thick on its banks, cutting a green line through the otherwise black, dusty landscape. The group settled into camp and set up tents. Robin made a reappearance. Peyton and Henry played a bit of chess and ate lamb and potatoes for dinner. Following dinner, we made a short jaunt to the foot of an extensive gorge. This is the third group we’ve brought to this moonup site, and it never fails to impress: the gorge is astonishingly deep, spanning miles and descending hundreds of feet into the earth. We sat (at a safe distance) upon the edge and enjoyed our reflection before dancing (at a proportionally safer distance) under that midnight sun to close our day. Sara and Parish acted as DJs for this little shuffle.
We rose early in the morning for our final day on the trail. The group, per usual, struck camp and sauntered into the kitchen tent for breakfast and hot chocolate. A pernicious stomach bug made its first appearance late the prior evening, but its victims, Elvis and Baker, proved tougher than that ole’ bug bargained for. We hiked out of Ermstrur around 9 and set out for Thorsmork – our last campsite on the trail. Baker, one of our walking wounded, sported the group’s speaker and carried us through winds, rain, and wearisome ascents. The trail was the most vertical we’d seen so far, and the group surmounted hill after hill, up and down, before the long descent into the Thorsmork river valley. We crossed the river – our last of the trekking session – and hiked into the forest of Thor. The sudden shift in scenery was stark – it was, really, the first time in the trip we’d encountered trees of any sort. The wind rustled the branches of the trees which, waving in the wind, seemed to beckon us forth — a verdant crowd of onlookers, cheering we weary wanderers on in the final hours of our march. We reached a camp about a mile after our crossing and laid in the grass adjacent to the hut, basking in the fleeting sunlight. Evie got a few shots of her fellows in the throes of a cat nap. After fifteen minutes or so, we roused the students for the last leg of the trek. Another mile passed by with hardly a word – we were exhausted: hours on the trail in intermittent rain and near-constant winds had finally sapped us of strengths. In the last ten minutes, our faithful speaker died in the midst of MGMT’s ‘Electric Feel’ – a nice punctuation of the end of our trail. We arrived at camp to find that our transport truck was, again, absent, but we couldn’t care less: the students laid out in the grass and napped. I watched Walker pull his beanie over his eyes and lay face down in the grass: he hiked hard and napped commensurately harder – when he awoke forty-five minutes later, he moved into the information hut near our campsite with the mark from his grassy bed still upon his face. The truck arrived, and we set up camp among the surrounding trees. Zach cooked burgers, and the group rested in the tent – sure of their success. Layla and Peyton led the group in a moonup in our kitchen tent after dinner, and we all basked in the bifurcated sense of accomplishment and fatigue.
Shoutouts:
Parish: Hey, Mom and Dad, I’m having a lot of fun in Iceland! We just finished Trekking and it was totally for me. All is well, love y’all.
Sara: Hi Mom and Dad!! I miss y’all so much and I can’t wait to see y’all! I just finished Trekking and my feet hurt lol! I love y’all, and please bring may may in the car on the way home!
Evie: Hi parents, Iceland is cold but the group is great. I can’t wait to see y’all :).
Walker: Hi mom and dad. I am having a great time! Love you guys.
Layla: Hey Mom and Dad. Miss y’all. Having a great time! Can’t wait to see you.
Josephine: hey y’all! Im having so much fun in Iceland. My group is really fun, too. I hope Adelaide had fun in the dolomites! Love and miss you!
Baker: hi mom and dad. Its been very awesome and I have had a lot of fun. I got a little sick, but im fine now. P.S. say hi to stormy!
Elvis: hey y’all, Im having a lot of fun in Iceland! Hope Colonel is well!
Peyton: I miss y’all so much, but Im having a blast! I hope Grayson had a great birthday and Austin and dad had a great trip!
Henry: Im having fun and can’t wait to see you guys!
Lindley: hi mom and dad!! I miss you guys so much/ Im having so much fun and can’t wait to tell you all about it. Give Winnie and Teddy hugs for me!!
Safe Arrival in Iceland!
July 17, 2024
Hello Iceland Families!
We heard from our leaders this morning that the group has landed safely in Reykjavik! The trip is off to a great start, and we cannot wait to hear more stories from their adventure.
Please remember our leaders and students will be unplugged during their trips but we will be posting trip updates throughout the next week! This will allow you to follow along with the trip. You can also follow us on Instagram, @moondanceadventures, to see more of what we are up to!
-Moondance HQ
