Sun? We don’t need no stinkin’ sun!!!*

*In your best spaghetti-western Hombre accent.

As I mentioned previously, I am combining Day 5 & 6 into a single post.  As a result, this may be a little longer than usual (sorry about that).  Why one post?  Well to be honest, I ran out of time to write the Day 5 post.  Plus, they really share one thing in common: rain.  But they also share in the fact that the rain didn’t deter me from taking photographs.  I had rain gear for me and rain sleeves for my camera.  It was a bit challenging, however, to keep rain drops off the front of my lens.  I kept wiping the lens off with micro-fiber towels and mini-chamois I had brought explicitly for this purpose, but it got to the point where these were saturated and minimally effective.  By the end of Day 5, everything was swamped.  For the most part I stayed dry (including my feet this time), but some water did manage to find its way through the sleeve cuffs, around the neck, etc.  I had to figure out how to hang all this stuff up so it would be dry for the next day, which thankfully it was.

How did my camera fare?  Except for the lens issue, really well.  The rain sleeves worked exceptionally.  Any water that did manage to get on the body I promptly wiped off, and after each session, I put the camera in a bag was some silica gel.  I don’t know if this actually did anything, but it certainly didn’t hurt.  I had to baby this camera since I had no backup at this point (my primary body definitely needs service 😢).  Now my tripod is a different story.  It has been reliable and durable, but the poor guy is a mess.  It’s muddy and has “ingested” some of that insidious black sand as evidenced by a scraping noise every time I extend/collapse the legs.  Makes me cringe!

On Day 5 I had a few photo opportunities near the campground.  Then I drove up to what’s referred to as the Golden Circle and to a hot spring area where there is an active geyser, Strokkur.  Interestingly, our word “geyser” derives from the name of a larger geyser at this location called Geysir, which unfortunately hasn’t erupted in several years.  Strokkur, on the other hand, erupts every few minutes, though it is much smaller than its bigger brother was (30 meters vs . 70-122 meters).  Not Old Faithful to be sure, but it was actually kind of exciting anticipating the next eruption because it happens so suddenly.

I spent the night at a campground near Geysir, which was also a bar and restaurant (very strange).  I had a desire to go in and have a beer but I refrained.  While it definitely would have tasted good, I want to wait for a good craft beer when I get home!  I got up early the next morning to visit Gulfoss waterfall.  This waterfall is hugely popular and one of the most visited waterfalls in Iceland.  Because it was early, I along with a handful of other people were the only ones there.  Gulfoss is rivaled only by Godafoss (which I don’t have time to visit), but quite honestly I was disappointed.  Yes, it’s impressively big, loud and creates a lot of spray, but it wasn’t “beautiful” from my perspective and therefore not very enticing photographically.   

My next stop was a waterfall that I expected to be substantially more interesting, Bruarfoss.  It was one that was near the top of my list, and it did not disappoint.  It is beautiful and consequently surprising that it's not very well known, except among serious (i.e., crazy) photographers like me (some of locals supposedly do not even know it is exists).  Part of the reason it is not well known is because it is not easy to get there.  There are few (scratch that, NO) developed trails and directions how to get there available on the internet are unclear and confusing (for example, one commenter said to park near the red gate, which except for a couple of obscure red posts, does not exist anymore).  So, I was surprised to see a parking area marked with a sign that said “Bruarfoss”.  As I was getting ready to depart on the “trail”, another photographer with muddy shoes and pants (whom I had actually seen walking down the road) told me not to go that way.  It’s a very long, muddy, and  arduous hike.  He told me it's an easier 10 minute hike from an area up the road that has a bunch of vacation houses (he came back that way).  This is what some of the online directions referred.  I had actually seen the road, but there was a sign that said Brúartorg with an arrow pointing towards the parking area (no surprise – they wanted to keep the crazy tourists out).  I thanked him and set off to find the “secret trail”.  The location wasn’t obvious, and I had to backtrack a couple times.  Eventually I found it, though.   The path was very muddy and zig-zagged through a bunch of thicket so I can only imagine what the other path must have looked like!  After a short hike I arrived at he waterfall and was rewarded with an amazing scene which I had all to myself.  The hike back, though, was another story.  I’ll talk about in one of the photo captions, so read on!

My final destination was the Snaefellsness peninsula, which some say typifies all of Iceland, and so far (and in spite of the rain), I would have to say it is indeed beautiful.  But, from where I was at, there was no easy way to get there.  First I had to through Thingvellir National Park with narrow, twisty roads and a 30 km/hr speed limit.  This was a seemingly beautiful park, but unfortunately I didn’t have time to stop.  Out of Thingvellir I got on a relatively new road with a maximum 90 km/hr speed limit.  Then I see this sign that indicated it was changing to gravel.  What the heck?  I had no other option but to take it and thought perhaps it was just a short stretch before turning back to pavement.  Boy was I wrong!  This twisty road kept going on and on and also kept climbing in elevation.  Eventually I found myself at a peak overlooking a beautiful lake and mountains.  I don’t know what the exact elevation was, but there was still snow on the ground!

On my way down, I thought it wouldn’t be long before it changed back to pavement.  Wrong again, Kimosabe!  This was the gravel road that would never end (though the scenery was amazing as I drove adjacent to a good sized river with large rapids and several waterfalls).  Turning back was not an option at this point, and there were no other roads to take, so I HAD to keep going.   At last, the road changed to pavement (yay!), and I was back up to maximum speed.  Then what do I see? That same flippin’ sign!  NOOOOO!!!  This time it was road construction (or at least Iceland's version of it), and the condition of the road was substantially worse.  Potholes were large, plentiful and sometimes impossible to avoid.  And, the “gravel” was actually more like rocks.  It was very slow going but fortunately not as long as the other road.  Very soon shortly I was on pavement again (now I could really use that beer).

The drive to Olafsvik, where I was spending the night, went faster than I thought.  I went to sleep relatively early since my plan was to wake up early (I mean REALLY early) to catch the sunrise over Kirkjufell mountain, just 15 minutes away.  More on that in the next post.

Abandoned farm building near Vik.  As I mentioned previously, there are many of these in Iceland.  The rainy/foggy conditions that morning added to the loneliness of this now empty building.

This is the remains of a US Navy DC3 that crashed landed on the black sand beach near Sólheimasandur, Iceland in 1973 when it ran out of fuel.  Fortunately the crew survived, and the wrecked fuselage has now become a tourist attraction and a favorite among photographers (it was on my "must see" list).  The black sand beach here is vast and desolate, and the foggy conditions created a distinct feeling of truly being lost.  The sign at the parking lot indicated that the walk to the plane is over 7 km (~4.3 miles) and takes about 2 hours to walk each way.  Since I am routine walker, I did it in 45 min. each way, but the rocky path and the rain made it a challenging hike.  Amazingly, I saw several people running the path and one guy on a bike (smart).  There were only two other people there when I arrived, and very soon they left, leaving the plane all to myself, which is very unusual.  I loved it!

Seljalandfoss, a hugely popular waterfall usually bustling with tourists, even in inclement weather like on this day.  This is indeed a pretty amazing waterfall, though there are others that I prefer over this one.  The rain and the fact the waterfall generates a huge amount of spray (which is exacerbated by the wind) made it virtually impossible to get much beyond your typical tourist shot.  Some of my images have so much water on the lens (actually, the protective filter) that it looks like I was shooting underwater!

The one cool thing about Seljalandfoss is that you can walk behind the falls.  Kvernufoss is the only other waterfall in Iceland that I know of where you can do that (and I like Kvernufoss better)

Within walking distance of Seljalandfoss is another waterfall that not everyone knows about, but in my mind is more interesting.  It is called Gljúfrabúi, and to get to it you must walk in the shallow river and through a narrow opening in the cliff wall.  There, inside a small "canyon", is this amazing, 40 meter high waterfall.  The area inside is virtually inundated with spray, so getting a good photo is nearly impossible.  I was lucky to pull this one off.  (Thank you too rubber boots!)

Strokkur geyser.  Unfortunately, the lighting conditions were not very good, but you get the idea.  After all, when you've seen one geyser, you've seen them all, right?  I have the entire eruption in a sequence but was struggling to get these into a good montage.

A fraction of a second before Strokkur erupts, it produces a blue "dome", seen here.  To capture this is supposedly considered somewhat of a coup de grâce among photographers, but honestly, it wasn't all that difficult.  It's just a matter of t-t-t-timing!

A really cool looking thermal pool at Geysir.

There you have it, Gulfoss.

I've seen some pretty amazing tour buses here.  These are generally designed to go off road and tour what is known as the "highlands", which sometimes involves fording rivers.  Sound like a cool tour!

And by far my favorite, Bruarfoss!  The blue color is real (though I did enhance a little during post processing since the time exposure obscured this a bit) and is due to various minerals in the water.  When I studied the river closely, though, I realized that the color was actually from the bottom of certain sections of the river bed, rather than the water itself. Consequently, it seems that these minerals are being deposited in these parts over a period of time.

As I mentioned above, the path to Bruarfoss was extremely muddy.  I had no issues getting there, but on the way back my right foot suddenly sunk deep into the mud with this disgusting sucking sound.  When I tried to pull my boot out, it wouldn't budge, and any leverage I put on my left foot to help was actually causing my left boot to get swallowed up as well.  So, what to do?  My first thought was to protect my camera!  Fortunately, it was still on the tripod, so I spread the legs and set in on what I knew was firm ground away from me.  Last thing I wanted was for it to fall into the mud!  I actually tried reaching into the mud with my hand to try and pry the toe out, but the suction was too much.  I could always just pull my foot out of the boot, but I really didn't like that idea.  Eventually, I just kept rocking my boot toe to heel until I could break the section and pull it out.  It took considerable effort, but it worked.  Ironically, it almost happened two more times before I was safely back in the van. 

A turf house in Thingvellir park.  Yes, some of them were really this small!

More artistic graffiti on an abandoned building, this time in the Snaefellsnes peninsula.