Ice Cave

We took a Super Truck tour out of Vik, which is the sothernmost village in Iceland, to a spot in the lava flows several miles to the east. There’s a glacier in the area. If you are lucky, conditions will be right for walking through the tunnels formed by glacier melt runoff. We were lucky.

The “Super Truck” was really just a jeep on steroids. It’s not as spacious inside as our tour bus, but very steady on some roads that were sometimes not so much roads as inclinations.

Visibility was a bit iffy at the time between a drizzling rain and stiff wind. I had brought a rain poncho with snap up sides with me, and was very grateful for it, but also struggled with the constant flapping.

The truck could only go so far to get us next to the glacier. From there we hoofed it.

The tunnels form naturally as the glacier melts. Some grow to large and threaten to collapse. Others are just starting and too small. The tour guide’s modus operandi was to drive about and look around. Should there not be anything suitable, then you get to poke at the base of the thing then go home.

From a distance the glacier just looked like Montana in March – full of dirty snow. We’d left the lupine behind around Vik, so all that black lava marching to the sea stretched before us au naturale.

This was not developed in any way. The floor looked like a sea of frozen waves and was nearly as slick. There weren’t any handrails at any point. You just stumble along best you can.

It’s no surprise that water runs through the tunnel while you’re in it. Generally it’s just a little trickle that keeps the floor slick. If the rain had been any heavier, then we would not have been allowed to go inside.

Again, lucky.

From the inside you can finally see a bit of color. The sunlight shining through the glacier is a vivid aqua blue. We walked several yards through it to the far end where the tunnel looks outside to a higher part of the glaicer.

I think with some pitons as a bit of rope we could have clambered out to check out the ice field. Instead, the head of the line doubled back so we had to slither around each other to get a look outside before back tracking to the place we came in.

The way back included such delights as a bridge consisting of a handful of boards flung across the run off, and sink holes.

We were already well on our why when the guide reminded us to step exactly where he did. Apparently the runoff combined with loose lava made for a series of sinkholes. People who lived in the area would occasionally step in one to disappear forever,

Sometimes we cut it a bit close.