It all began in the middle of nowhere in the Icelandic highlands with an Italian, an American, a Costa Rican, two Swiss, a bottle of vodka and a pair of dice.


On second thought, perhaps I should tell a different story.

It has always been a fantasy of mine to discover a secret waterfall. When Sebastian suggested that we follow the river into the soft-walled canyon leading into the volcano, a waterfall was not what I expected. But as we clamored over the loose pumice, talus, and ash, we traveled further and further back in time, back to when the volcano was just a tuya, a bit of magma coming out beneath an immense glacier, perhaps some 10,000 years ago. The walls of the canyon became high and dark, with stacks upon stacks of pillow lavas, which are usually found when a volcano erupts deep within the sea, but in this case occured where the magma was making its own tiny ocean beneath the ice. He was a reckless sort, always sliding about on the steep slopes and perching on the highest points. I was leading, but really I was following him; his presence made me reckless and invincible, and I slid down slopes and jumped over chasms as my fear and practical nature melted away.

And then we turned a bend and there was the waterfall, our own secret waterfall, cascading out of a notch in the pillows and beating a deep pool into the lava layers below. There was also a wide, wispy waterfall facing it, coming right out of an aquifer in the rock and disappearing before it reached the surface. We leaped around the waterfall, throwing pumice into the pool and watching as it bobbed and then floated away.

We made our return along the river instead of on the trail, jumping from side to side and hiding under a large polygonal snowbank that hadnīt yet melted. He suggested that we climb up a very steep, loose slope to an outlook. In some places there were caves below the ash on the slope from glaciers which have melted out from underneath and which collapsed when you stepped on them. But since he suggested it, I agreed, and we tramped up the slope and loped over the crevasses to the highest point, where he whistled at the people in the camp way below until they acknowledged how deliciously high above them we were.

And Sebastian and I returned to camp, unharmed, and I could add this adventure to the many adventures Iīve had that have taught me this valuable lesson about traveling:

You can do a lot of really stupid things, and nothing bad will happen to you.


More later on how you can do things that donīt seem so stupid and die from them.

NEXT TIME ON... ICELANDIC NEWS.

dododododo!
Don't go and die!
» middaymoon on 2008-08-18 02:14:20

I want to hear about the vodka and the pair o' dice!
» jinyu on 2008-08-18 02:51:02

Ooooh
Sounds pretty cool...you should've taken a pic! I guess it wouldn't really have been a secret waterfall if you had....

you should have walked through the waterfall. Who knows what you could have found? Perhaps the Icelandic Batman has his secret base at this secret waterfall...
» The-Muffin-Man on 2008-08-18 04:28:49

You should've carved something into one of the rocks nearby. Or named it. :D
» randomjunk on 2008-08-18 04:50:25

Name.

URL.

[to enter your email, use "mailto:youremail@domain.com"]
Subject.

Comment.

Word verification.

Copy the first 4 characters only.

If you are a member, try logging in again or accessing this page here.