Eldborg Crater: the story

We weren't far outside of Reykjavik before the scenery completely changed. The mountains got higher. The water flowed more powerfully. The grasses regrowing over the volcanic soil were more wiry and, it being fall, more colorful.

We had wound around a fjord, driven North and made one turn back to the west when we saw a different kind of hill, almost out in the middle of a field. Deb spotted the sign at the end of the secondary road - Eldborg.

We drove down the road and got a better picture of the crater, but Deb wanted to get closer. The guidebook said it was a 40 minute walk  from the road.

The Walk

We eventually found where to park and walk (more on this in another post) and set off for the crater. First we were walking over grass and dirt by a stream. As we turned the corner by a sheep pasture, the ground got more uneven, turning to a thinner path through brush, and then we were walking over a field of volcanic rock.

I went ahead, took some stairs over a barbed wire fence, and started climbing. Gradually at first. The narrow path wound among brightly colored bushes and volcanic rock colored by different minerals, and up. Always up.

I had been going for what seemed like a long time since the fence. My watch said 15 minutes. A ridge in front of the crater came into view. I was worried that I was taking too long, but I made up my mind to get to the ridge.

Once to the ridge, I knew I had to at least try to scale the crater

The Climb

Across a mesa to the base of the crater wall, I could see steps carved into the wall. The face was not quite sheer - the rock is too soft for that. But it was pretty straight up.

The stairs were the easy part. After walking up two fairly stable sets, I looked up and saw what amounted to footholds with posts and chains to guide the way. I slung the Nikon over my shoulder and started up. A foot here, a hand there, stretching, lifting, moving sideways to get a better purchase, up as the rock allowed. A knee on the last rock boosted me to the summit and gave me a glimpse of what was inside.

It took my breath away.

We use a lot of cliches in our language, and overuse most of them. They all have roots in something real, and this moment, sights like this after an effort like that, are it.

The crater was deeper than the hipeight I had hiked. It was rocky, covered in green lichen and the red and yellow flora that marked the path in. It was lush, beautiful, seemingly not of this world, and frightening.

Yes, the wind was brisk still and the edge had no guardrail to keep you from falling into the crater.  I mostly knelt to take pictures, and sat a bit to contemplate the walk back.

It's All Downhill from Here

The walk back was much faster. It took me about 30 minutes to make the steep ascent to the crater, and about the same to wall the whole way back. Maybe it was the wind at my back, or the gradually more forgiving terrain, or the adrenal in coursing through my veins. Whatever the case, I have a feeling it is just a taste of the best Iceland has to offer.