New to Multi-Day Hiking? You Should Consider Iceland’s Laugavegur Trail
Photos by Melanie Carden
A boiling fumarole nearly scorched the flesh from my naïve, inquisitive fingers, but onward I hiked. I navigated 10 miles of volcanic landscape and then shoveled buttery campsite falafel into my mouth. All in all, a proper welcome to a gritty multi-day hike in the unforgiving realm that is the highlands of Iceland.
I’m here to report that if you’re an experienced day-hiker looking to take it to the next level, Iceland’s Laugavegur Trail should be on your shortlist for consideration.
No, I didn’t slip on a glacier and bonk my head, rendering me obscenely incapable of making quality hiking trail suggestions. Laugavegur Trail’s 34-mile trek through the unforgiving terrain of Iceland was, in fact, my first multi-day hike. And to answer the common question: no, I didn’t do a guided trip.
My friend and I—both experienced hikers—decided it was time to up our hiking game. And truth be told, when an adrenaline-driven travel writer and adventure photographer decide to try something new, sometimes it gets a little weird—like tackling a world-renowned bucket-list trail as multi-day newbies. But here’s the thing: Laugavegur is very doable and entirely life-changing.
The trail runs from Landmannalaugar to Thorsmork and usually opens in mid-June and remains accessible through mid-September. And although most of Iceland is not as treacherous as its name suggests, the highlands—where the trail is located—is notably gnarly. So much so it’s a popular filming location when directors need otherworldly locations, as in Thor: The Dark World and HBO’s Game of Thrones.
The weather changes quickly and is sometimes unforgiving, but it offers the chance to quench the soul’s craving for untamed beauty. In just four days, we trekked through volcanic elevations, glaciers, waterfalls, and pebbly basalt deserts and stumbled upon areas riddled with fumaroles—holes in the earth, spewing boiling water and sulfuric gasses.
Since the weather fluctuates, there were periods of utter bliss and times when I just put one foot in front of the other while dreaming of the sugary, gluten-free faux-but-fabulous Pop Tart tucked away in my sack. But the daily mileage is, ultimately, moderate. Over four days, we banged out between seven and 10 miles per day, though the weather and traction slowed our usual pace. So from a technical standpoint, there’s nothing too crazy, but with the weather and landscape changing quickly and dramatically, I found myself grateful for trekking poles and paid close attention to foot placement.
For example, when we started in Landmannalaugar, the trail was mostly clear. But shortly after, we encountered our first walk-through-size snow arch and fumaroles. Then—BAM—just endless stretches of barren, tough-on-the-hips snow fields. This squishy terrain, like running on sand, calls upon the lower body’s hidden muscles for balance and momentum. But whatever momentum we had slowed to a snail’s pace when a blinding fog rolled in. And although it was the only time that I felt nervous (borderline terror, if I’m being honest), it’s also why I’m confident this is a great multi-day hike for first-timers.
I read about these blinding fogs and how, in 2004, a man named Ido Keinan died when he got caught in one. Sadly, he was a half mile from the Hrafntinnusker hut, but when the fog rolled in, he became disoriented—visibility nearly zero. Unfortunately, a storm was on the heels of that fog, and as close as he was to the safety of the hut, he perished.
We could see it coming at us, like some menacing Marvel movie smog wall, and then my hiking buddy—just a few feet behind me—disappeared from sight. Having read about the trail extensively before arriving, I knew to stay calm. I locked my eyes on a set of severely faded bootprints in the snow, and we kept chatting loudly.
