Destination Askja - An Icelandic Desert Crossing

by Ivan Viehoff

Askja

Over the centuries, magma chambers have collapsed under the volcano Dyngjufjöll to create several nested calderas - crater-like structures - known as Askja. Most recently this happened in 1875, following a large eruption, and the resultant caldera is now filled with water to create a circular lake, Öskjuvatn. The lake covers an area of over 20 sq km at an altitude of around 1,100m. It is humbling to realise that such a large geological structure is of such recent origin. Most of the year Öskjuvatn is frozen over, revealing its blue colour only in late summer. The older, larger calderas, in which it lies, form a high, enclosed table-land surround by cliffs, rising to around 1,600m.

Near Öskjuvatn lies the explosion crater Víti, which means Hell. It is similar to the crater of the same name at Krafla near Mývatn. About 60m deep, with multicoloured walls, a small turquoise lake is maintained by geothermal heat at a comfortable temperature for swimming. It is a steep, muddy climb down. Altogether, it is one of the most extraordinary landscapes in Iceland.

Víti (foreground) and Öskjuvatn

Nearby, the Dreki mountain hut and campsite lies at an altitude of 780m. Dreki means dragon, and certainly it seems a good place for one. From there a track climbs 8km up into Askja. Well maybe you will have to wheel some of the way, but it is good to ride back down! You have to abandon the bicycle 2km before Víti, and walk the rest of the way.

For the venturesome cyclist willing to carry food for at least six days, and water for up to a day, Askja is a splendid focus for a wilderness excursion across the deserts of the Icelandic interior.

The main options

There are essentially three routes to Dreki. The easiest is from the north, starting near Mývatn, and passing by the attractive Herðubreiðarlindir nature reserve, with its hut and campsite. Many cyclists use this as an out-and-back return route. It is certainly the strategy which minimises the amount of food you must carry - four days may suffice. It might appear that you could make this journey without a tent, but it is not wise to rely on the huts. In high season, they are booked up by tour groups. Moreover the cyclist needs to be able to shelter from storm-force winds which laugh in the face of plans and timetables. In high season, a daily bus offers a way of retreat. A northward extension is possible, cutting out Mývatn to travel via the Jökulsárgljúfur National Park to Ásbyrgi.

Gravel plains ... (Þríhyrningsfjallgarður)

More interesting than the northern route, though harder, is the eastern road from Egilsstaðir via Brú i Jökuldal. It joins the northern route for the final 13km to Dreki. It also presents possibilities for extensions. For example, with a day or so in hand you could travel from Egilsstaðir to Brú via Hallormsstaður and the Snæfell hut; the road is reputed to be reasonable, though I was unable to check it out as it was still closed. With still more food in your pack, it is possible to visit Kverkfjöll or Kringilsárrani, though certainly the roads to Kverkfjöll are terrible, and those around Kringilsárrani may be worse.

Kverkfjöll on the skyline (view from Vikursandur)

This article focuses on the basic eastern and northern routes and Jökulsárgljúfur. Together they create a fascinating and feasible desert crossing, attractive alternatives to the better known Sprengisandur and Kjölur desert routes.

The third way

But first, I should mention the third possibility. Only the truly hard-boiled will select it. Many have started and turned back. Gæsavatnleið heads south then west from Dreki, splitting into a choice of two routes, the old road (via Kistufell) and the new road. The new road is appalling, and the old road is worse. But the old road, heading south of Trölladyngja, has amazing views as it runs close to the edge of Vatnajökull. They join the F26 Sprengisandur central desert route near Nýidalur, from where you can choose to go north or south.

Soft sand.... (on Krepputunga)

These routes have the reputation as being the hardest in Iceland, though I rather suspect that there is worse. Certainly you will have to drag your bike through loose sand for the first 30km from Dreki, where the road splits. Some have said that the next 30km (at least on the old road) is also unrideable. But with very fat tyres, and some dampness on the ground, it has been ridden - I met someone who did it. Either way, you will have to carry a lot of water, as you won't see any for a couple of days.

Egilsstaðir to Dreki

Jökulsá á Dal valley is a mournful place, at least under the clouds. Brown grasslands, brown ploughed fields, round brown hills. I was astonished that farms line the valley, this far inland, this high. I expected to make Brú on the first day, and often this would be straightforward as it is on a good gravel road. But I encountered one of those Icelandic winds that tear up your plans, and I stopped about 10km short after a long day on the road.

Þríhyrningur (track faintly visible on the left)

From Brú, the good road continues south up Hrafnkelsdalur, and eventually over Fljótsdalsheiði to Hallormsstaður, passing within 12km of the Snæfell hut. Our road is the right turn, an earth road climbing steeply up to Þríhyrningsfjallgarður. The grassland comes to a sudden end to be replaced with black gravels and scattered heathland flowers. Golden plovers can be heard, along with the odd wagtail and wheatear. By the streams graze geese and swans. There are several stone-built columns, though what purpose they served I could not tell. You will be pleased to have some sandals to change into to cross several foot-numbing fords. The road climbs steeply over the shoulder of Þríhyrningur, where the flowers come to an end.

Herðubreið

Herðubreið comes into view, a mountain masquerading as a patterned woolly hat or a birthday cake. It will dominate the scenery for the next several days. Now the road passes over gravelly plains, where vegetation is restricted to the sides of watercourses. Þríhyrningsá is a deep ford, where you may be wise to carry your bike and your luggage separately, making several crossings. But Alftadalsá is the more significant landmark, as it holds the last good water until Dreki. You need sufficient containers to take what you need. I rode on for a couple of hours to camp by the Kreppa, in a strange area of flat rocks and black sand.

The Kreppa and Upptyppingar

Over the bridge lies Krepputunga, a narrow neck of land between the two glacial rivers.  Here the rivers come within a kilometre of each other, the wildness of each contained in its own basalt crack. Herðubreiðarlindir is just the other side, but we must wind 22km south to the next bridge. It is a strange area of lavafields and sand desert.  Upptyppingar is not a practical joke, it is a mountain we must ride around. Patches of white pumice often lie over the black sand, and when it is thick enough it is easily rideable. Increasingly you reach softer sand, the worst of which is unrideable on any bicycle. I wheeled and dragged my bicycle about half of the way. Refusing the challenge of Kverkfjöll, I reached the next bridge and crossed over into Vikursandur. This was a distinctive mix of gravel, rocks, sand and lava outcrops. Again I had to wheel and drag over half the way. The last 13km to Dreki passes through the enormous Ódáðahraun lavafield. It is a rough road, but it is mostly rideable, especially coming back downhill. It was a very long day and I made only 45km.

On Krepputunga

Dreki to Mývatn

I spent two nights at Dreki. With the road still closed, there were only a few people around and I could stay in the hut. The water system was not operating, and I had to use the stream-water, trying to avoid the floating rocks going into my bottles. The water looked bad, but the sediment settled out if left to stand for a few minutes.

The F894 up to Askja was still covered in thick snow. At least this kept most of the tourists away, and I nearly had the place to myself. It took all day to walk up over the snow, explore and return. I would have liked to take the mountain path on the way back, but decided it would be rather dangerous in the conditions. When the snow has gone, the cyclist can ride up to Askja in the morning and cycle on to Herðubreiðarlindir in the afternoon. I made the half day trip the next morning, and was pleased to spend the afternoon walking the nature trails, spotting rare birds flying sideways, and helping other campers to put up their tents in the increasing winds. I expected a sandstorm, but on the contrary the air became ultra-clear and the views intoxicating.

Herðubreiðarlindir

The road north from here is mixed in quality, bad stretches and good stretches, and some rather dull scenery as Herðubreið recedes behind. I made it to Mývatn in a long, tiring day, pleased at not having to take on another large load of water. The greatest humiliation was to arrive at route 1 in the midst of road-works, and forced to wheel my bicycle on the main road.

Fording the Lindaá

Jökulsárgljúfur

Jökulsárgljúfur is billed as Iceland's grand canyon, and certainly gives that impression when seen from the Hafragilsfoss viewpoint off the F862. Dettifoss is the most powerful waterfall in Europe. I found four kinds of orchid at Hólmatungur. The strange basalt towers and arches at Hljóðaklettur make for an engaging walk. And there is nowhere quite like the forest-filled canyon of Ásbyrgi with its unbelievably vertical walls curving in a great arc. Along the way, the volcanic sights of Krafla will consume half a day on their own.

There are no views from the F862, which runs over a heathland plain out of sight of the canyon. It is a rough road, rideable, but only at a sedate pace. It would be masochism to ride it without taking in the turn-offs and following the walking trails to the viewpoints. There is no water by the road. At Dettifoss drinking water is delivered daily to the camping area a few hundred metres up a path from the car park. If you find it empty, there are some streams crossing the walking trails along the canyon, and a non-potable water tank at the car park.

Although only 73km by direct route from Mývatn to Ásbyrgi, two or three days are needed to make a worthwhile journey of it.

Click here for a map of the route

Egilsstaðir - Askja - Mývatn

Mývatn - Jökulsárgljúfur - Ásbyrgi

Click here for a map of the route

Practical information

Camping and reserves

Free camping is legal and straightforward in Iceland. You can camp anywhere within reason that is not private, within 1km of an organised site, or in a reserve. Although large areas of Iceland have some degree of protected status, only relatively small areas are 'reserves', including 'national monuments' and 'national parks', where free camping is illegal. Reserves are often patrolled by wardens who enforce the rules rigidly. It is useful to be sure of the rules, because there are people who will exaggerate the limitations, especially campsite owners. You see frequent misleading signs saying 'Camp only at official sites' or 'No camping in reserves' placed in areas that are not strict reserves.

The Herðubreiðarlindir reserve starts 3km south of the hut and runs until 28km north. The area around Mývatn is a reserve. The Krepputunga protected area is not a strict reserve, so it is possible to camp by the F910 here. The F902 passes through the Hvannalindir reserve. The Jökulsárgljúfur national park (ie reserve) runs from near Dettifoss to Ásbyrgi. The little-known campsite at Dettifoss is a considerable convenience, as it can take several hours to cycle from there to Vesturdalur. I have heard of the wardens at Dreki encouraging cyclists to take the old Gæsavatnleið rather than the new, on the grounds that the new road passes through a reserve where you might need to camp. This seems to be another case of misunderstanding the class of protection, as neither road appears to cross an area with strict reserve status.

Opening dates and weather

Cyclists can ride "closed" roads if they wish, but are at risk of finding long sections of snow or soft mud, which are considerably worse than soft sand. On the other hand, a couple of days prior to official opening is often the best time to cycle a road, as the snow will be nearly gone and there will be little traffic. The Icelandic roads administration website www.vegag.is has information on the actual and anticipated opening dates of main mountain roads. The F88/F910/F894 to Askja typically opens around June 22. The F862 typically opens about June 15. But strange things can happen. In 2001, F862 was open in mid-May, but closed again following heavy snowfalls in late May and early June. The same snow delayed the opening of the access road to Dreki until early July, at which time the F894 was still covered in thick snow (as you can see from the picture at the top). The central sections of Gæsavatnleið generally open in mid-July. Roads to Snæfell can also be late in opening.

The central deserts north of Vatnajökull lie in a rain shadow, and experience little rainfall. Brief squally showers are common, but usually don't amount to much. Despite the altitude, the area is sufficiently far from the sea to experience surprisingly warm summer temperatures. Storm-force winds are a frequent hazard. When they lift up a sand-storm, you may be better off sitting it out in your tent.

Maps

The Icelandic Survey 1:250,000 maps are ideal. The two-sided sheets cover Iceland in five maps. They have 20m contours and show major fords, unlike the Máll og Menning 1:300,000 sheets which have only 100m contours.

Ivan Viehoff  (iviehoff@hotmail.com) August 2001