" The Highland Above the Clouds "
- Daniel Owl -
We left Reykjavík on a Friday evening, straight from work. By the time we reached the base camp at Kerlingarfjöll it was past one in the morning. We pitched the rooftop tent, climbed up, and fell asleep under a sky that never quite went dark.
The next morning we started the ascent from the left side of the camp. There was still some sun when we set off, but the wind was already picking up. Two kilometres in, the weather turned. A yellow alert for wind, then rain, then fog — thick enough to make us question whether to keep going. We were close to turning back. Then we spotted the upper car park through the mist and kept walking.
The terrain up there is unlike anything else — wet clay underfoot, the kind that grabs your boots with every step. The fumaroles appeared and disappeared between patches of fog. The rain stopped for a moment, just long enough to pull the camera out again. When we finally reached the top, soaked and tired, that particular kind of satisfaction set in. The one you can only earn on foot.
On the way down it started raining harder. I took a moment to dry the camera as best I could and packed it away. The Sony A7IV and the 16-35 f4 had handled everything without complaint — and kept doing so.
Kerlingarfjöll is a place you go back to.
