Thórsmörk, Iceland

Thórsmörk – which is actually spelled Þórsmörk (that first letter is a "thorn," a fabulous little letter we used to have too, in Old English) and means "Thor's woods" – is many things, including...

...a wide valley shot through with the many twisting strands of a swift, gray, glacier-fed river.


Because the river is constantly changing its course, there's no car bridge, and Thórsmörk can only be reached by four-wheel-drive buses and Jeeps. We forded no less than 27 times, through everything from small streams to true rivers.

The last of these – the real river – I crossed in an ordinary Toyota pickup truck driven by a young park ranger from the Thórsmörk hostel, with water surging halfway up the passenger side door, me shrieking and giggling, and the blasé Icelandic ranger glancing over at me with a look that plainly said, What's your problem?


...surrounded on three sides by glaciers, one of which is the famous Eyjafjallajökull! Unfortunately, I didn't find out until afterward where to go to find areas of rock that are still hot from last year's eruption.

...gorgeous and otherworldly, all dramatic green and craggy mountains, around the endless black stone expanse of the riverbed.


...home to the peaceful little oasis that was the hostel (more like a collection of simple, homey cabins), complete with well-stocked little kitchen and friendly fellow travelers, who regaled me with stories of their far more hard-core hikes through Icelandic wastelands and ferocious winds.

"I never knew before that it could be a sandstorm, rain and sun all at the same time," one woman told me. "Oh, and there was a rainbow."

Ho hum, just another day in a hike in Thórsmörk:


...where I climbed probably the scariest mountain of my life. I wish I had pictures that gave a sense of it, but I couldn't take any, because I generally needed both hands to hold on. Only made it up (and back down) thanks to Jethro, a world-wise, adventurous, yet equally acrophobic college student from upstate New York. (And the chances that two environmentalist vegetarians from central New York State would meet on top of a rock in Iceland are...?)

Jethro coached me through where to hold on and how to maneuver sideways along the steep path, all the while cheerfully admitting that he was just as terrified to look down as I was. Here's a celebratory picture, with the mountain we survived (Rjúpnafell) in the background:


That's all for now! Up next: Reykjavík and the Valley of Steam.