The Austari Jökulsá
Iceland, the land of fire and ice. A country sculpted by nature's harshest forces. Come winter, there is no sign of the sun for months. Arctic storms howl for weeks on end, the calm between storms revealing a blanket of blinding white snow over a frozen landscape. Volcanoes can be seen erupting in the Southwest, their meandering crimson lava flows creating new land. Earthquakes shake through the whole country, which feels truly alive.
When spring arrives, so do the travelers. As the days get longer, the rivers start to flow, the emerald water flowing out of snow-capped mountains. Most kayakers plan their trip for the end of May into June, flying into Reykjavik to collect their hire car and manufacture homemade roof racks. Then, they travel anticlockwise around the island along Highway 1, through the South, into the East, the landscape changing from lava field deserts to black mountains and deep fjords. Along the way, numerous creeks are inspected and the hunt for Iceland's famous waterfalls is always at the top of the agenda.
After a week of walking into the mist of the mountains in search of waterfalls, backs and necks sore and achy from big boofs, they reach the North. The
