Thursday's travels ended at Gulfoss, or Golden Waterfall. What had been slated for hydroelectric power production was preserved by a single crusader in the 1900s.
The falls are more powerful than Niagra, though not nearly as big. They plunge in two stages to a gorge below. Trails at the overlook park split in two, and I chose the low road (no comment from the peanut gallery).
The trail ran at the level of the second dip. Spray from the falls pelted me as I wallked along the trail. At the end, a rocky ledge, about 25 feet wide, stepped up from the path.
"No way " I said under my breath. And climbed up.
The ledge reached out nearly into the falls. I could see the mud churned up by the velocity of the water. The sound of rushing water enveloped me, as thousands upon thousands of water continued their plunge to the gorge below.
Despite the volume, despite the spray, despite the (somewhat) precarious position, this was a peaceful place for me and I stood watching and listening to the raw power of nature. Its good to be reminded of that once in a while.
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