If ever there was a moment in life when I felt completely in the hands of mother nature it was while standing a top Langjökull in Iceland. Langjökull is the second largest ice cap in Iceland and located in the Western region of the Highlands. Beneath Langjökull lies at least two known volcano systems.
Langjökull was the last stop for us on a long day of touring the Golden Circle and the part I was looking the most forward to as it involved snowmobiling! Growing up in Texas anything that involves snow, mountains and cold is always a welcome adventure.
To get to the top of Langjökull we had to climb some pretty treacherous terrain that required the experience of a swift driver and the monster wheels of a Super Truck. The journey to reach the ice cap was an adventure in itself. Scaling over gargantuan black rocks and steep inclines was exciting and slightly nauseating. The higher we ascended the more the scenery transformed into a sparking sea of immaculate white snow. It was incredible to see how quickly the landscape changed. After about an hour of scaling over rocks and steep hills we made a pit-stop at a small shed at the base of the glacier to bundle-up for snowmobiling.
The freezing temperature and the bustling winds called for some major gear: pullovers, special snow boots and a helmet. I felt like I was preparing to fly a fighter jet or walk on the moon.
After the group was outfitted, it was back in the Super Truck to continue the trek to our destination. Just a short ride away, aligned in a perfect row was a band of snowmobiles. It was kind of a surreal sight to see these hunks of machinery out in the middle of absolutely nowhere, at what felt like the top of the world.
In my mind I was going to hop on the snowmobile, punch the gas and zoom off into the wonderland ahead. As much as I’d like to think I’m a great adventurer, I can admit that I’m pretty much a scared-y cat when it comes to heights or fast-moving vehicles. Instead of leading the group into the great beyond, I basically held up half the convoy with my snail-like pace.
Sadly, due to one too many White Russians at the Lebowski Bar the night before, Bryan missed out on an amazing excursion. Originally, each couple was going to share a snowmobile, taking turns driving. Since Bryan didn’t make it, Lindsey and I let Shades go solo and we teamed-up. Although I am sure crawling at 15-20 mph while everyone else was hitting 50-60 was probably not what she had in mind. Mario Andretti I am not.
At times as I was putt-putting along, my imagination would take over and I would picture plummeting into a soft spot in the ice or losing control and veering off course. However, when we stopped to take a break and had a moment to soak in the beauty and serenity of where we were, those fears vanished. Nothing but natural elegance as far as the eye could see.
If ever you have the chance take the opportunity to glide across a glacier in Iceland–you won’t regret it. Just don’t be afraid to push the pedal to the metal.