Iceland Week 2: How to Enjoy the Country of Fire and Ice

Last Friday, I shared highlights from the first week of our two-week Iceland vacation. Building on our family’s tutorial on how to get the most from your Iceland visit, today I share our westward trip from windy Lake Myvatn from week two.

The view north along the East Iceland coastline and fjords.
The view north along the East Iceland coastline and fjords.

Day 8 was unique in that I recalled three smaller events rather than one big highlight. They included visits to a waterfall, a petting zoo, and the “capital of north Iceland,” Akureyri.

Our first stop out of Myvatn was at a waterfall named Godafoss, which looked like two rivers running at right angles into each other. But from above, we could see that one river wrapped around a resistant basalt “island” in the middle. The winds had died down significantly from the previous day, and we enjoyed partly cloudy skies and clear views of the panoramic falls.

Panoramic Godafoss, about 30 minutes from Akureyri and part of the Diamond Circle.
Panoramic Godafoss, about 30 minutes from Akureyri and part of the Diamond Circle.

When I told my husband our next stop was a petting zoo, he seemed skeptical. A zoo, in Iceland? Volunteering for eight years at the Woodland Park Zoo has made me a big fan of exploring international zoos of all kinds and sizes. When I read off the list of animals we’d be visiting, Brooke and I put it to a vote, and we won.

We arrived just before they opened at 11 a.m., but the owners let us in early. After meeting their adult dogs and two cats, I headed out to see their Arctic fox. We hadn’t had any luck seeing one anywhere else. The female was vocalizing and her fur was transitioning from summer dark to winter white. My daughter spent at least half of her time visiting with three kittens who climbed all over her.

Iceland Week 2: How to Enjoy the Country of Fire and Ice
My daughter is a kitten magnet.

The owners’ seven baby puppies made their public debut, and we laughed at chickens chasing rabbits away from their days-old chicks. We also visited their Icelandic horses (including two precious black foals), cows, goats, guinea pigs, turkeys, and sleeping pigs. Okay, so it was more of a family farm than a zoo. It was still fun. My daughter took her turn on their outdoor trampoline, getting a boost of endorphins for the next phase of the trip. We agreed unanimously that it was worth a stop on a long day of driving.

The “capital of north Iceland” and the second largest settlement outside of the capital region is Akureyri, with 20,000 inhabitants. We spent a few hours visiting a yarn shop and neighboring bookstore, replenishing our food supplies (at Bonus!), having a picnic at the waterfront, and looking for birds and flowers at the local Botanical Gardens. Fall colors had already appeared by September 6. After that, we headed for our next stay in the tiny village of Laugarbakki.

Iceland Week 2: How to Enjoy the Country of Fire and Ice
Fall colors at the Lystigarðurinn, one of the most beautiful parks in all of Iceland.

By this point, five things stood out about Icelandic Airbnb lodging:

  • Most of the places we chose were pretty tight quarters compared to New Zealand and US lodging
  • Most places had shoe racks right inside the door to prevent tracking in dirt requiring additional cleaning
  • Icelandic locks on bathrooms and outer doors took patience and persistence to figure out
  • “Fully equipped kitchen” means something different to everyone
  • Every place had its unique charm and, even though tight, we had everything we needed, including WiFi

When we reached the Guesthouse Langafit I made us dinner for the first time in a week: golden potatoes, bacon, and ground pork. Not the set-up I’m used to but still tasty and relatively affordable. We also had a few delightful conversations (supper and breakfast) with a lovely couple from Austria who were traveling the Ring Road in the opposite direction. We swapped stories and photos before heading our separate ways.

"Fully equipped kitchen" where I made dinner the night before our anniversary.
“Fully equipped kitchen” where I made dinner the night before our anniversary.
A very tight fit, with three single beds and our luggage in the aisle.
A very tight fit, with three single beds and our luggage in the aisle.

To kick off our 28th wedding anniversary on day 9, I cooked bacon and eggs so my husband and daughter could sleep in. Back home, we’d debated about how much time we could allot for the Westfjords. We ended up downgrading from three days to one once we decided to drive the whole Ring Road. We still spent more than four hours driving on day 9, the second longest driving day of the entire trip.

In Holmavik we spent 45 minutes in the tiny Museum of Icelandic Witchcraft and Sorcery, my daughter’s choice for the region. I’d watched a short video about necropants, tilberi, and the zombie climbing out of the floor, so I knew what to expect. Fortunately, we were provided a guide in English so we could read about the exhibits.

A zombie crawling out of the floor.
A zombie crawling out of the floor.
A dedicated writer in the olden days.
A dedicated writer in the olden days.

The other highlight was my only hot springs experience in Iceland, at the Reykholar Hostel. We’d chosen not to visit the Blue Lagoon resort outside of Reykjavik as too touristy. However, when we checked in early at the hostel, we learned that only one of the nine rooms besides ours would be occupied that evening. And not only was there a sauna, but a hot tub as well!

After dropping off our bags to make room in the car, we explored a very winding road west from Reykholar, but after an hour of driving west, we all agreed that we’d had enough fjord driving and decided not to continue to the pink sand beach of Latrabjarg. Instead, we returned to the hostel where my husband tried out the sauna and I enjoyed a solo dip in the natural springs hot tub.

Hot tub shell over a natural hot spring. I had it all to myself despite the hostel having nine rooms.
Hot tub shell over a natural hot spring. I had it all to myself despite the hostel having nine rooms.

This spa had an incredible view and no top to move, buttons to push, or knobs to turn. I soon discovered that the shell of a hot tub sat perched directly over a geothermal hot spring. The markings I saw on the surface were merely mineral deposits. I had my Icelandic hot springs experience!

On Day 10 I woke intending to explore Reykholar on foot, but the wind and rain returned. We’d planned to go horseback riding at midday. Riding in the wind and rain for several hours didn’t appeal very much.

Fortunately, by the time we reached Dalahestar around 12:30, we decided to take a chance and booked a private 2-hour ride. Isabella, a guide from Poland, was the only ranch hand there, and after she finished her 11 a.m. ride, she asked about our experience as riders. When she learned we’d ridden quite a bit, she asked if we would like to do some galloping. Heck yes!

I had a lovely ride on a beautiful horse named Rekkur. His thick winter coat was already coming in, so soft!
I had a lovely ride on a beautiful brown horse named Rekkur. His thick winter coat was already coming in, so soft!

When the wind picked up and the rain returned, Isabella loaned us durable weatherproof clothes. We helped her prepare the horses, and as we started away from the barn, we discussed reducing the ride to an hour if the rain continued.

Like magic, it stopped. Isabella let us gallop in three places, and she took us down to the black sand beach as the tide receded. The promise of a beach ride was why we chose Dalahestar in the first place. Isabella did not disappoint!

My daughter with her Iceland horse, Thytur.
My daughter enjoys a peaceful moment with her Iceland horse, Thytur.
The three of us with (left to right) Keyill, Thytur, and Rekkur on the black sand beach.
The three of us with (left to right) Keyill, Thytur, and Rekkur on the black sand beach.

How those sturdy Icelandic horses navigate the gloppy mud without slipping is amazing. We learned that they have a few different gaits from most horses we’ve ridden before. Instead of trotting, these horses do what’s called a “tolt” where the front and back legs move together on each side, making for a lilting ride rather than a jolting bounce. And their gallop felt liberating and freeing — in short, amazing. Add to that hot cocoa and cookies to warm up afterward and it was a definite highlight!

A guide to Icelandic horse gaits.
A guide to Icelandic horse gaits.

On our way to tour the sites around the western part of the Snaefellsnes Peninsula, we stayed two nights in a lovely 2-bedroom Airbnb apartment known as the Writer’s Nest near a great pizza place, Kaffi 59. Located near Kirkjufell, or “Church Mountain”, it was by far our most spacious lodging while in Iceland.

Back home, I’d been given the Peninsula as one of the destinations to plan. Our daughter chose to stay in the apartment while my husband and I visited a few falls, birding spots, and tourist stops including taking the Saxholl Crater, Ytri Tunga to try to spot seals, and some stunning seaside scenery known as Longdrangar Basalt Cliffs, otherwise known as the “Rocky castle.” Londrangar gets my vote for the highlight of day 11.

Stunning scenery of the Longdrangar Basalt Cliffs, my highlight of day 11.
The stunning scenery of the Longdrangar Basalt Cliffs is a highlight of day 11.

The day didn’t reach my expectations, the only day that didn’t. As we drove, I reflected on other international trips and how my mind would return home several days before the end. We still had a few things remaining on our list, but for the most part, Iceland had been a dream vacation.

Yet driving over 1200 miles in two weeks, staying in close quarters 24/7, and moving to a new place almost every night takes a toll. I felt grateful to have two nights at each of our last two Airbnb places.

So much of Iceland is mountainous volcanic terrain with spots of color, like this little building by itself.
So much of Iceland is mountainous volcanic terrain with spots of color, like this little building by itself.

Once we returned to the apartment, I stole an hour to clear my head and stretch my legs. It didn’t matter that our daughter chose to claim time for herself on a day I’d planned for all of us to enjoy. As an introvert, sometimes I need to carve out “me time.” She does, too, as a young adult. Driving trips can be a challenge. The one thing I might have changed would be to schedule half of a day for doing nothing. Personal choice.

A long, restorative night’s sleep left me eager to explore before we left the Writer’s Nest. Despite strong winds and biting cold, I headed on foot for the twenty-minute walk to explore Iceland’s Kirkufellsfoss. I was not disappointed.

Not only did I see a moody sky over Kirkufells, but only two other photographers were out at 6 a.m. That meant getting a quality photo of the peak and falls, without a crowd of tourists in front of them. My 90-minute walk was the highlight of Day 12.

Moody dawn sky behind Kirkufell Mtn. and the falls.
Moody dawn sky behind Kirkufell Mtn. and the falls.
Landscape shot of the falls and the peak. Which appeals to you more?
Landscape shot of the falls and the peak. Which appeals to you more?

Following that walk, we packed and headed toward Reykjavik for our final two nights. We made a few stops in search of golden plovers, taking our unique bird species for the trip to 53 with 30 new life birds for me.

Driving into the largest metropolitan area in Iceland felt a little like culture shock after being on the Ring Road for 12 days. We laughed at the sign indicating that tractors were not allowed on the highway between 7-9 a.m. and 3-6 p.m.

This sign says "No tractors allowed on the freeway between 7-9 a.m. and 3-6 p.m."
This sign says “No tractors allowed on the freeway between 7-9 a.m. and 3-6 p.m.”

At long last, we finally had some calm, sunny, and beautiful weather on day 13. Just about perfect conditions for a three-hour whale-watching trip that featured two Minke whales, followed by time in Reykjavik. We found a lovely lighthouse where soft late afternoon sunlight illuminated an entire beach of golden plovers, waiting to be photographed.

One of two minke whales we saw on our 3-hour cruise.
One of two minke whales we saw on our 3-hour cruise.
Golden plovers basking in the sun on the beach.
Golden plovers basking in the sun on the beach.

But wait, there’s more. To top it off, we were graced by two nights of relatively clear weather, both of which allowed views of the northern lights. But on our final night in Iceland, the lights show rivaled the one we saw two years ago in Alaska. Unfortunately, I did not have the right setup to capture more than some crude streaks (they didn’t even get imported into Lightroom…)

The spectacular sunset on our last night left us grateful for two weeks to explore Iceland.
The spectacular sunset on our last night left us grateful for two weeks to explore Iceland.
Still speaking after 1200 miles! That's a solid father-daughter relationship.
Still speaking after 1200 miles! That’s a solid father-daughter relationship.

Our final day to explore Iceland included visiting a thrift shop in Reykjavik, seeing several lighthouses south of Keflavik, and getting ice cream. Our direct flight trips to and from Iceland (about 7 hours each) went seamlessly. I’ve shared my highlight from our last day, a wonderful solo experience on Mt. Esja.

The biggest takeaways from two weeks in Iceland — there were so many — are these:

  • Iceland has something for everyone. Whether you like traditional tourist spots or unique experiences, identify what is most important to you and how you’d like to visit
  • Weather matters. If you allow more time and flexibility, you can move events around if you get bad weather. In the shoulder seasons (spring/fall) expect colder temperatures and wind, fewer tourists, and lower prices.
  • If you only have four days to explore Iceland, consider staying around Reykjavik or Akureyri. We are so grateful for the time and means to visit for two weeks.
  • While Icelandic food may not be well-known in other countries (like burgers from America or pizza from Italy) their Skyr, pizzas, fish and chips, and seafood are plenty accessible and tasty.
  • And finally, as is true anywhere you go, when traveling internationally don’t forget a SIM card! My daughter and I relied on Wi-Fi in the evenings, but my husband had a SIM so we could navigate and change plans on the fly.
Cooking in the bus at the foot of Mt. Esja. This was our most unique Airbnb stay while in Iceland.
Cooking in the bus at the foot of Mt. Esja. This was our most unique Airbnb stay while in Iceland.

Have you been to Iceland? What was your favorite part? Share in the comments. And if you like this post, please check out week one and Mt. Esja.

Fire and Ice: How to Explore Iceland, Week 1

To summarize two fabulous weeks in Iceland into one 1200-word blog post is an impossible ask. I shared one of the highlights in my 9.17 post about following inner guidance. When a client recently asked about my process (50 journal pages and 2000 photos later), I replied that every international trip is different. She got me thinking of a two-part blog topic: How might others explore Iceland if they have two weeks? Below are highlights from week 1, counterclockwise from Keflavik to Lake Myvatn.

Fire and Ice: How to Explore Iceland, Week 1
We loved the land of fire (active volcanoes) and ice (15% of Iceland is covered by the Vatnajokull Glacier, a tiny part of which is pictured above) and SHEEP!

Looking back on this trip, the four organizing principles around enjoying the Ring Road with my family included:

  • Get everyone involved in the planning stage so the trip would be engaging and stimulating for all three of us
  • Be as mindful and present as possible, which meant writing 50 (not 150) journal pages and getting sleep at night, not naps — we tend to go hard and experience as much as possible
  • Explore on foot, whenever possible (I did 6 solo morning excursions), to experience each region more completely
  • Highlight one event per day, to “file” 14 mental video snippets in a more orderly way

Using this organizational strategy, I will try to summarize 2000 photos and two fabulous weeks into two posts, as we made our way counterclockwise around the island.

If you get to explore Iceland, we recommend visiting each region as they're different. My favorite sunset shot over Lake Myvatn, to conclude day 6.
If you get to explore Iceland, we recommend visiting each region as they’re different. My favorite sunset shot over Lake Myvatn, to conclude day 6.

On August 29, my husband, daughter, and I took an 11 p.m. direct flight from SeaTac to Reykjavik, arriving at 1:30 p.m. local time on my birthday. Jetlagged, we set out to explore Iceland, deciding that our highest priority (after picking up our rental car and getting a SIM card) was to see the Svartsengi fissure eruption before it ceased.

We drove south of Keflavik to about 3 km north of Grindavik (Zone 1 in the linked map above), close enough to smell sulfur and catch sight of fountains spewing lava about 100 feet high. To keep my camera steady in the 20-30 mph wind, I ducked into a depression several feet deep which made photos appear to be right above the earth. This was my first international eruption unless I count those on the big island of Hawaii. What a memorable birthday experience!

Svartsengi fissure eruption south of Keflavik airport and 3 km north of Grindavik, Iceland.
Svartsengi fissure eruption south of Keflavik airport and 3 km north of Grindavik, Iceland.

If day one’s highlight was the fissure eruption, day two was Atlantic puffins. We’d specifically designed our trip around the Ring Road to go counterclockwise to see the puffins before they migrated south. A late morning ferry took us to Vestmammaeyjar Island (Westman Island, also referred to as “Puffin Island” in bird parlance.) We drove to Storhofdi, the southern tip, and braved increasing winds to enjoy hundreds of puffins outside their burrows.

Parent puffin (orange feet and beak) and offspring (left) before it headed inside their burrow for protection.
Parent Atlantic puffin (with orange feet and beak) and its offspring (left) before it disappeared inside the burrow for protection.

Not only did we enjoy the puffins, but we also enjoyed the best pizza I’ve had in over a decade. Who knew, on a little island? Pitsugerdin is a local Italian pizzeria with a wood-burning oven and delicious, unique choices of pizzas. Part of the challenge we faced was we wanted to explore Iceland cuisine. We ordered one cheese and tomato, one sausage, Pepperoni, peppers, and cream cheese (below). I had heard that European flour is different from US flour; I didn’t even worry about it not being gluten-free. Sure enough, we had pizza four times in two weeks, and I didn’t experience gluten sickness a single time.

Fire and Ice: How to Explore Iceland, Week 1
Fire and Ice: How to Explore Iceland, Week 1

As the wind picked up, our hiking prospects disappeared in the clouds, so we arranged to catch an earlier ferry to the mainland. Several children had captured pufflings (immature puffins) that got disoriented and ended up in town; their parents released the birds off the back deck so they could make it to sea.

Our return trip should have taken roughly 30-40 minutes. The seas were so rough that we couldn’t dock in Landeyjahofn; instead, our captain added three hours to our journey to reach a more protected port, Þorlákshöfn. (Don’t ask me how to pronounce it.) Had we kept to our original plan, we would have been stranded on the island overnight.

Still facing high gusting winds, day 3 featured the Golden Circle, a high-tourist drive out of Selfoss that included walks around Kerid Crater, through Thingvellir National Park (where two plates diverge as new land is created), the Geysir geothermal area, and Gullfoss waterfall. Many people wanting to explore Iceland will hit the Golden Circle in a few days on their way elsewhere.

We felt a little as though we were geyser snobs. We’ve seen Old Faithful at Yellowstone National Park, so we expected a little more from Strokkur, in Geysir, which erupts roughly every 6-12 minutes for about a second.

Beautiful waterfall in Thingvellir National Park.
Beautiful Oxararfoss waterfall in Thingvellir National Park.
Muddy Gullfoss "golden waterfall" with a rainbow.
Muddy Gullfoss, a “golden waterfall” with a rainbow.

Our winner for the most unique experience on Day 3 was dinner at Ingolfsskali, a traditional Viking longhouse near Selfoss. My husband tried fermented shark and ordered the lamb dinner; our daughter tried the fish, and I had fried duck confit with lentils and cherries. Worth trying once. And no, I didn’t try the shark but I did try a tiny bite of dried fish that came with his order. My claim to Icelandic food fame was having Skyr (Icelandic yogurt) every single morning.

Fried duck confit with kale, lentils, and cherries. Delicious.
Fried duck confit with kale, lentils, and cherries. Delicious.
Our daughter gets into character with traditional Viking attire.
Our daughter gets into character with traditional Viking attire.

Day 4 was our longest driving day. We traveled from a hostel in Holmabaeir to a quaint green cottage at Skaftafell, enjoying the glaciers and spectacular waterfalls along the South Coast. In the morning, we climbed 467 stairs up to the top of Skogafoss in Katla Geothermal Park, spending about 75 minutes admiring three of the many falls along the lower stretch of the river.

The end of our Skogafoss visit. Our daughter got close to the spray and came back soaking wet. I chose to keep my down coat dry.
The end of our Skogafoss visit. Our daughter got close to the spray and came back soaking wet. I chose to keep my down coat dry.

As we continued to explore Iceland, we added a stop at Katla Wool Studio, a local yarn shop in Vik; a grocery store for a replacement water bottle that didn’t make it into the car from the previous Air B&B; Jokulsarlon Lagoon for wonderful photographs; and Diamond Beach to explore ice fragments sculpted by waves on a black sand beach near the glacier lagoon.

Fire and Ice: How to Explore Iceland, Week 1
Author selfie at the Jokulsarlon Lagoon. Yes, it WAS that cold on September 2!
Fire and Ice: How to Explore Iceland, Week 1
Icebergs from Vatnajokull Glacier.
Fire and Ice: How to Explore Iceland, Week 1
Delicate ice sculptures on Diamond Beach

By this time, one thing we learned was to procure groceries at the local Bonus (with a round pink pig) whenever we spotted them, as they’re only open from 10 a.m.-7 p.m. or, in some locations, 12-5 on Sundays. Our dinner at a local Hofn pub was a delicious surprise. We each got an order of their version of “nachos,” plank fries with cheese and bacon.

Fire and Ice: How to Explore Iceland, Week 1

Among the many highlights of week one, Day 5 may have been the most memorable. Not only did we see stunning eastern fjords landscapes, but we had a lovely four-mile round-trip hike through some of the most stunning geology I’ve ever seen.

Our daughter researched the south and east areas of Iceland and found a gem of a hike known as Studlagil Canyon. We had a turn-around time to get to our lodging near Egilsstadir for a homemade dinner, so we headed out briskly from the parking area to spend as much time as possible exploring.

Imagine the forces that sheared through rock to leave these columns in twisted angles.
Imagine the forces that sheared through rock to leave these columns in twisted angles.
Over many years, this fault-strewn valley has been carved by powerful water, leaving vertical basalt columns intact.
Over many years, this fault-strewn valley has been carved by powerful water, leaving vertical basalt columns intact.

One picture simply could not do it justice, so I’ve shared four. While my husband and daughter scrambled low over the eroded columns near the river, I explored the high path to the upper falls before finding an easier path to join them by the “island” in the center (lower right photo.)

Another great look at what the shearing forces left behind.
Another great look at what the shearing forces left behind.
My husband and daughter for scale.
My husband and daughter for scale.

Beyond Studlagil Canyon, near Lake Myvatn, we caught our breath, staying for two nights (days 6 and 7) an hour south of Husavik. High winds were so strong — whitecaps on ponds had us guesstimating 40 mph sustained with 50-60 mph gusts — that our whale-watching trip out of Husavik got canceled.

Lake Myvatn is an oasis for birds and has many volcanic features around the edge. A wonderful biking/walking path is being built around the perimeter.
Lake Myvatn is an oasis for birds and has many volcanic features around the edge. A wonderful biking/walking path is being built around the perimeter.

That didn’t stop us from visiting the “Diamond Circle“, North Iceland’s tourist loop akin to Reykjavik’s “Golden Circle.” In particular, we stopped briefly at Dettifoss and then discovered another hidden gem, Asbyrgi Canyon. It’s a horseshoe-shaped canyon forty-five minutes from Husavik with basalt walls about 100 meters high.

When we first came into a clearing, I gasped in surprise, partly because the water was so still (unlike the gusts we’d experienced all morning), and partly because the waterfowl were enjoying the peaceful solitude of the emerald water.

On our return drive to Lake Myvatn on day 6, we stopped at Grjotagja Cave (a small lava cave of Game of Thrones fame) and decided to hold off visiting Godafoss the following morning when it wasn’t as windy.

The peaceful serenity of the protected Asbyrgi Canyon.
The peaceful serenity of the protected Asbyrgi Canyon.

We took advantage of some much-welcomed downtime for the first time since we began our journey. Our second and third nights of pizza (this time from Daddi’s Pizza) had us enjoying a family game of Skip-Bo and shooting photos of a beautiful sunset (see above).

Out of 2000 photos and 50 journaling pages, it’s hard to give my top five takeaways for someone wanting to explore Iceland, but I’ll do my best.

  • Iceland is a destination in its own right, not just a stopover to other places in Europe. We had originally planned to spend 4 days in Iceland on our way to France, but we had too many things we wanted to experience. Each region is unique. To get the whole experience, driving the Ring Road made sense. Two weeks felt perfect.
  • There are SO. MANY. WATERFALLS! We found ourselves looking for other features and experiences. At one point, my daughter said something to the effect of, “How many waterfalls do we have to see?” Yes, we saw the most popular ones, but as you can see, Iceland has so much more to offer than just waterfalls.
  • The people! We met wonderfully kind Iceland hosts – hearty people who pretty much do everything because they have to. The evening after visiting Studlagil Canyon, we checked into the Litlabjarg Guesthouse. Our hostess prepared a delicious home-cooked meal for us of breaded cod and potatoes, salad, and a coffee cake even I got to enjoy — with a scoop of ice cream. Afterward, we chatted with her for a good half-hour. Delightful!
A delightful family runs the Litlabjarg Guesthouse in the mountains.
A delightful family runs the Litlabjarg Guesthouse in the mountains.
Icelandic home-cooked meal after our Studlagil Canyon hike.
Icelandic home-cooked meal after our Studlagil Canyon hike.
  • Birds – we were under the impression that most of the birds would have flown south by September. But we encountered 53 species (30 life birds) including several hundred Atlantic puffins.
  • Language — because Iceland has such a small population, almost everyone learns English. We had no problems communicating; I even practiced French with a Frenchman who knew little English!

Rested from our stay at Myvatn and ready to continue, we headed into week two to enjoy, among other things, a petting zoo, horseback riding, northern lights, a witchcraft and sorcery museum, whale watching, and a trip partway up Mt. Esja which I’ve already posted. Stay tuned!

Change in the Wild: How Nature Guides Personal Growth

My birthday outing at the end of August did not go as planned, but that’s what life consists of — plans B, C, or Z. As I hiked, I thought, “And THEN…” thinking up possible themes for another blog about change. I could write about “life is what happens when plans fall apart.” But that had such a negative slant to it. Instead, I embrace the idea that nature guides personal growth.

Dramatic skies from high on Mailbox Peak.
Dramatic skies from high on Mailbox Peak.

Ever since my daughter saw pictures from Blanca Lake several years ago, we’ve wanted to hike it together. We intended to go for my birthday hike two days before our trip to Iceland, but I came down with a bad cold on Monday, the day before our target hike. I did everything I could think of to get better: hydrating, soaking in the hot tub, grounding, taking extra vitamins including C and Zinc, sucking on honey-infused cough drops, and going to bed early. My daughter agreed to the suggestion that I’d wake her if I felt like I could hike. Otherwise, she would sleep in.

On Tuesday, I had zero congestion. Excited about our hike, I checked on my daughter. She’d stayed up until 1:30, and when she learned it was raining, she curled up under her blankets. Partnerless, I considered my options. My first thought was exploring the east side of Squak. But I wanted to do something more memorable for my birthday. I left a note saying I would be at Exit 47 hiking to Pratt Lake.

The new Mailbox trail is a lovely meandering path through the forest. There's not much to see (and very few people on it) except fascinating trees until the trail merges with the steeper Old Trail.
The new Mailbox trail is a lovely meandering path through the forest. There’s not much to see (and very few people on it) except fascinating trees until the trail merges with the steeper Old Trail.

As I headed out the front door alone, Ajax tried to join me. I’ve decided to cap him at under 8 miles and less than 2000′ gain to protect his ailing left hind leg. When I scolded him and lured him back inside, he looked at me like I was ripping his nails off his claws. I couldn’t risk him reinjuring his leg two days before our Iceland vacation. That would not help HIS personal growth.

A big fender bender in downtown Seattle added more than 30 minutes to my travel time. Having left the house later than usual (I’d waited until the last possible second to wake my daughter), I got off at Exit 34 intending to try Teneriffe (13 miles/3,800′ gain, a desired mileage challenge on my physical journey to personal growth). But that hike is accessible from Exit 32 (oops), and I didn’t feel like backtracking. Faced with a choice between Granite Lake (which I’d already done twice this summer) or Mailbox, I chose the latter.

I pulled into the Mailbox trailhead parking lot around 8 a.m. Four cars sat in the upper lot and four more in the lower lots. In the fog and mist, I started up the new trail around 8:15. Now I just had to hit 9.4 miles and 4000′ elevation gain. By myself. Fortunately, the second time hiking solo felt better than the first on Tiger. With no bears.

Fall colors are beginning to turn on the boulder field, which gets more exposure.
Fall colors are beginning to turn on the boulder field, which gets more exposure.

The first part of the new trail on Mailbox is lovely, covered in Doug firs, cedars, and pines, so even in the wind, rain, and sleet I didn’t get too wet or cold. I kept my raincoat on for the first and last 1000′ of gain, stripping to a long-sleeved shirt for the 2000′ gain in the middle of the hike. A woman who left the parking lot just after I did caught up at the base of the boulder field. She turned back just as the wind and sleet increased.

I got lucky. The precipitation stopped when I was 300′ below the summit, gracing me with a beautiful rainbow. At the summit, I gratefully pulled out my down coat and enjoyed parting, swirling clouds and a pair of juncos foraging near me as I doctored a small blister and then ate some trail mix. The sleet had chased the last pair of hikers from the summit a few minutes before I arrived so I had the whole summit to myself.

A rainbow formed over North Bend near the summit of Mailbox, reminding me of the healing and personal growth one can experience in nature.
A rainbow formed over North Bend near the summit of Mailbox, reminding me of the healing and personal growth one can experience in nature.

The 5-mile return trip to the car reminded me of other recent hikes — the blue stains on rocks had me looking for blueberries and huckleberries, but I didn’t find any large clumps worth picking. I kept my eyes open for fall colors and saw brilliant red berries. It was still on the early side for the beautiful autumn display I know will come soon. I thought about my dog’s health, my daughter’s return to campus, my family’s upcoming vacation in Iceland, my journey with personal growth, and the exam results I might receive on my return.

As I often do, I chanted aloud, “I’m grateful for x.” It felt funny talking without Ajax there to hear me. Instead, I tried a new silent alphabet game that challenged me to come up with four things for each letter, such as “Annabelle is an Accountant from Anacortes who takes Acrobatic lessons.” Some of my creations made me laugh. It helped the solitary miles pass more quickly.

My birthday selfie with the infamous mailbox at the summit of Mailbox Peak on August 27th. The clouds gave it an atmospheric look.
My birthday selfie with the infamous mailbox at the summit of Mailbox Peak on August 27th. The clouds gave it an atmospheric look.
Ajax takes a short rest at Cougar's Whittaker Wilderness summit bench on September 17.
Ajax takes a short rest at Cougar’s Whittaker Wilderness summit bench on September 17.
If you look for fear, you'll see it. If you look for love, you'll find it everywhere. Choose to focus on love, not fear.
If you look for fear, you’ll see it. If you look for love, you’ll find it everywhere. Choose to focus on love, not fear.

How to Listen to Your Inner Guidance

How does your voice of inner guidance get your attention? Is it strong and demanding? Soft and timid? Does it whisper or yell in moments of uncertainty? I’m not talking about your inner critic, but rather your spiritual voice of innate wisdom. If you can’t identify it, how do you listen to it? I never knew whether I could hear my inner guidance — my inner critic is so dominant — until last week, during a solo hike of Mt. Esja in Iceland.

Private property on the south side of Iceland. Imagine living at the base of a beautiful waterfall!
Private property on the south side of Iceland. Imagine living at the base of a beautiful waterfall!

My husband, our daughter, and I spent two weeks driving counter-clockwise around Iceland’s Ring Road. We stayed at Air BNBs and hostels rather than hotels. During our last two nights near Reykjavik, we had our first experience with glamping. Our quarters were the front third of an articulated bus. Online, it looked like we’d have plenty of space. Cramped is an understatement. Memorable? Definitely.

During those two nights (September 10 and 11), we were fortunate enough to witness two spectacular displays of northern lights. Despite staying up late, on our last day I rose with the sun and couldn’t get back to sleep. Resigned to being up and determined not to wake the others, I eased silently out of the bus door, leaving my phone and digital camera batteries charging.

How to Listen to Your Inner Guidance
Our hostess invited us to explore Mt. Esja, but I knew nothing about it. Could I just walk to the base and start hiking?

One of my favorite things to do whenever we travel internationally is explore new areas on foot, usually in places where we stay for more than one night. Now or never! I decided to follow the sign toward Mt. Esja and see where it led. What might an alpine trail in the Iceland highlands look like?

In Washington State, I hike on established trails that I can research ahead of time. I’d heard of Mt. Esja from doing extensive research, but as I gazed up at the mountain I couldn’t see any obvious trails. Perhaps the trail was on a different side. Undaunted, I followed the faint grassy path over private property until it became a footpath that disappeared altogether.

Our glamping lodging for the final two nights in Iceland was the front third of the bus pictured above at the base of Mt. Esja, the high, spired point in the center of the photo. We were twenty minutes northeast of Reykjavik.
Our glamping lodging for the final two nights in Iceland was the front third of the bus pictured above at the base of Mt. Esja, the high, spired point in the center of the photo. We were twenty minutes northeast of Reykjavik.

As I climbed through long grass and over deep, spongy earth, I listened for birds and running water. The grass gave way to rocky rubble, and the grade steepened. After ten minutes I stopped to see how far I’d come and set a turn-around time of 45 minutes.

I felt a buzz of excitement. I was climbing Mt. Esja! In Iceland! By myself! Without a trail! I had nothing with me but a baseball hat and neck muff. How would I document my exploration? What if something happened? Nobody knew where I was. Still, I climbed. I set my sights on a rock band and headed straight toward it, looking for any signs that someone had been there before me. But once I got to rock rubble, any evidence of foot traffic disappeared.

The triangular patch of shale just above the rock band is where I met my turn-around time. I found the voice of my inner guidance on the way down.
The triangular patch of shale just above the rock band is where I met my turn-around time. I found the voice of my inner guidance on the way down.

I reached the rock band in about 35 minutes. Yearning to go higher, but aware that I only had a few minutes left, I traversed until I could look down on one of the valleys. A bird with a dark head and white body soared from a cliff. Black-headed gull or razorbill? I’ll never know for sure. When I felt raindrops and saw them on my down jacket, I knew it was time to descend. Traveling over wet rubble would only become harder.

I needed to go down the same way I’d climbed up to avoid running into cliffs. My inner critic took over. “Most accidents happen on the way down.” “Don’t do anything stupid.” “Nobody knows where you are.” “You should have brought your phone.” “You won’t find any walking sticks because there are no trees.” “What are you going to do if you fall?” She’s strong and relentless.

She’s also not at all helpful, even though she thinks she is.

I paused to take a few deep breaths and think through my options. By double-wrapping my purple neck muff around my right wrist, if I did slide, I wouldn’t lacerate my hand. Been there and done that, no repeats, please!

My hour-long journey took me 1000' up past the grass and "pyramid" rubble to just below the green "V" above the rock band.
My hour-long journey took me 1000′ up past the grass and “pyramid” rubble to just below the green “V” above the rock band.

Keeping my center of gravity low and over my heels, and eyes on the rocks a few steps in front of me, I set my sights on the “doorway” through the rock band. I squared my shoulders and my inner guidance took over. “You got this.” “You’re strong.” “Slow and steady.” “One step at a time.” I carefully made my way back down over the loose rocks, gaining confidence as rubble turned to rock, grass, and finally path.

When I returned to the bus an hour after I started, our hostess grinned, so pleased that I chose to explore her mountain. Two other guests sounded surprised to see me back so soon. “We were watching your progress,” one said. “You’re fast! How did you know where to go?” I didn’t, I just took a chance and went. And found the inner voice of trust, confidence, and peace I’d sought for two weeks.

Similarly, I am on a parallel mental journey in my career. At times, launching a new health and wellness coaching company feels like charging up Mt. Esja. Infinite options without a clearly defined path. My inner critic is having a field day. “You’re too old.” “You don’t know all the steps.” “Nobody has done what you want to do.” “It’s too much work.” “You’re going to fail.”

A brilliant sunset at Lake Myvatn where we experienced some of the strongest winds -- sustained 40-50 with gusts up to 60 mph.
A brilliant sunset at Lake Myvatn where we experienced some of the strongest winds — sustained 40-50 with gusts up to 60 mph.

What climbing Mt. Esja taught me is that listening to the inner critic doesn’t help. My new challenge, then, is to notice when she’s taken over and make every effort to quiet that voice so I can hear my inner guidance.

My husband even suggested I replace the image of teetering on a tightwire (where every move I take could result in falling off) with a great big concrete slab that is my foundation of knowledge (where I hover an inch above, with nothing to fear). The only way to fail is to not try.

I have more than 25 years of experience helping people. My clients get results. I don’t have to solve everyone’s problems, I just need to be willing to collaborate, listen, stick to my principles and values, and try new things.

Mt. Kirkjufell on the Snaefellsnes Peninsula. I took a solo early morning walk to photograph the mountain and waterfall without tourists.
Mt. Kirkjufell on the Snaefellsnes Peninsula. I took a solo early morning walk to photograph the mountain and waterfall without tourists.

Like heading up Mt. Esja with nothing more than a baseball cap and neck muff. I don’t need to know the outcome and I don’t need perfection. But I do need to be willing to make mistakes.

I have developed a new mantra: embrace fear, failure, and mistakes as my best teaching tools.

That progress halfway up the mountain reminds me that THE JOURNEY means more than the destination. Younger me would have said, “You failed to reach the summit.” Wise Me says, “You found your inner guidance. Trust it. Rely on it. Nurture it.”

The day after we returned to Seattle, I had good news waiting for me: I passed my NBC-HWC exam and am officially a national board-certified Health and Wellness Coach.

How to Listen to Your Inner Guidance

I don’t know the exact path forward yet, but I know that Mt. Esja has shown me that I can find peace and confidence no matter where I am. As long as I take consistent action. So I’m taking a deep breath, and here I go!

Whether you are in the mountains or facing a major life transition, trust your inner guidance, not your critic. We may not know exactly where we’re headed. But if we give it our all, and stick to our principles, our best effort is good enough.

How to Enjoy Rain: Try a Foggy Hike to Mason Lake

On Tuesday, August 20, my daughter and I added another hike to our “recently completed Alpine Lakes” list. I’d given her the choice between Mason Lake and Blanca Lake. We decided to save Blanca for the following week, hoping for better weather. Our foggy, soggy visit made me think of how we might more fully enjoy rain. The berries, changing fall colors, and fading wildflowers reminded me of how the changing season parallels life changes.

Mason Lake on a foggy, midweek August morning.
Mason Lake on a foggy, midweek August morning.

Rain keeps temperatures more comfortable and crowds away. When we arrived at the popular Mason Lake trailhead at 8:30, there were only ten cars in the parking lot. And by the time we returned, we counted thirteen. Usually, by 2 on a summer afternoon, the Mason Lake Trailhead lot is full to overflowing.

We had a foggy, rainy start to our trip. A little over an hour into our trip we found a way to enjoy rain by stopping at a vista which revealed dramatic clouds moving quickly in the valley below us.
We had a foggy, rainy start to our trip. A little over an hour into our trip we found a way to enjoy rain by stopping at a vista which revealed dramatic clouds moving quickly in the valley below us.

Rain helps minimize the dust and reduces fire threats. It adds texture, flavor, and dimensionality to atmospheric photographs. Unfortunately, on this hike, my daughter forgot to charge her phone on the hour-long drive, so she started the hike in a sullen mood. While I promised to take whatever photos she wanted, I also wanted to protect my phone from the rain. As much as I wanted to enjoy rain, the reality is it can destroy your phone!

My new waterproof Frogg Toggs rain jacket worked great, but without pockets or a long hem to cover my shorts, I had to keep my hand over my phone to keep the rain from soaking in. I’d left my pack rain cover at home, but at least I had a plastic bag to protect my wallet and journal. After hiking 1.6 miles, we stopped to take a break before the trail started to climb in earnest. One look at her “drowned cat” photo (her coat was water-resistant, not waterproof) had us both cracking up. The silence was broken, and we could enjoy ourselves.

How to Enjoy Rain: Try a Foggy Hike to Mason Lake

If you are considering hiking in the rain, you might want to add the following items to your basic packing list to stay comfortable.

  • Waterproof jacket and pants
  • Pack cover to keep your pack contents dry
  • If you don’t have a cover, a trash compactor bag inside of your pack also works great
  • Gaiters, which are ankle covers for your boots to keep rain (and snow) out of your boots, and socks dry
  • Cell phone protector – I just ordered one for my upcoming trip to Iceland, since we’ll be there at the start of the rainy season

Our hike to Mason Lake presented us with three gifts that reminded us of our goal to enjoy rain: we caught the tail end of wildflower season, including Beargrass stalks, fireweed, Indian paintbrush, pearly everlasting, and lupines. While we only heard seven bird species, we spotted a pica and heard several others in the talus slopes.

Indian Paintbrush and raindrops lead to charming photos.
Indian Paintbrush and raindrops lead to charming photos.
Maples just beginning to show fall colors.
Maples just beginning to show fall colors.

The maples are just starting to turn color in places, sparking joy in me as I recalled some glorious fall hikes I’ve shared in this blog, including last year’s October hike to Granite Mountain and another to Snow and Gem Lake in 2022. While fall feels like it’s arrived earlier than usual this year, I know when I return from Iceland there will be plenty of opportunities to catch beautiful fall colors.

And the best seasonal transition of all is TONS of delicious thimbleberries, blueberries, and huckleberries. We spent an hour collecting huckleberries near the lake and as we traversed the boulder field, in part waiting to see if the clouds would disperse and also because we’ve enjoyed other hikes to collect berries including on Mt. Catherine two summers ago and last August at Peek-a-Boo Lake.

My daughter heads up the rocky trail toward the ridge crest, through fireweed, ferns, and picas.
My daughter heads up the rocky trail toward the ridge crest, through fireweed, ferns, and picas.

Change is hard but unavoidable. We may want things to stay exactly the way they are, but maybe we can build our “change muscles” by identifying things to look forward to. For hiking in the fall, fewer people on the trails, beautiful autumn colors, and cooler temperatures excite me even though I know one of my summer hiking partners will be returning to college soon. I can continue to enjoy rain for the next eight months.

Losing a hiking partner – temporarily or permanently – may feel like a huge loss, but when I think about trails I could explore that my current partners cannot, I get excited about the possibilities. A mother facing an empty nest might embrace change as a way to learn more about herself and where she wants to head in the next few years. Someone starting a new job might anticipate meeting different people, receiving benefits, and learning new skills. Just as Mother Nature adapts to the changing seasons, so, too, must we.

We encountered an adorable Bernedoodle named Maple who made me miss Ajax even more.
We encountered an adorable Bernedoodle named Maple who made me miss Ajax even more.

One thing we expected from a mid-August hike was warm temperatures so we could swim in the lake. With temperatures in the low 60s, we didn’t see anyone swimming, but we did see one family carrying fishing gear. Back home at the last minute, I shoved a fleece jacket and down coat into my pack. They’re light and compressible. I never expected we’d use both on the descent. Something else I will add to my pack for future hikes: a large gallon-sized bag or collapsible plastic container that doubles as a berry bowl or trash container.

What I did not expect was slowing down as we traversed the boulder field. Historically, I’ve sped up to get to the shade so the heat won’t negatively impact my dog. But without him along, and with so much to see in the open space, we took our time to enjoy the berries, picas darting among the rocks, and changing foliage.

The most enjoyable part of this trail was heading through the boulder fields where critters, berries, and early fall colors surprised us at every turn.
The most enjoyable part of this trail was heading through the boulder fields where critters, berries, and early fall colors surprised us at every turn.

As with any change journey, if we have an end destination but relax our “rules” or “shoulds” for getting there, we can enjoy side paths that crop up unpredictably. Think about the last big change you encountered. What were some unexpected obstacles you had to overcome? What did they teach you? When do you most enjoy rain?

Change has taught me over the past three years that things always work out. They may not work out the way I initially expected they would, but humans are remarkably resilient and adaptable beings. I continue to learn to trust the universe and myself.

A tiny chipmunk stuffs berries in its cheeks before darting away.
A tiny chipmunk stuffs berries in its cheeks before darting away.

During the first 1.6 miles of the hike, my daughter trudged out in front of me. I hung back to shoot pictures of the bridge over the falls. Was there something more than disappointment at not charging her phone? Could I come up with a game for us to play? Were there more topics I could bring up besides what we’d already discussed in the car?

When we laughed at the wet-cat photo and enjoyed exploring the boulder field, all my worries disappeared. It turns out my daughter had an upset stomach from eating too many raisins too quickly. But she didn’t share that until we were headed down.

By the time we reached the sign at the turnoff for Bandera Mountain and Mason Lake, my daughter was more talkative, more engaged, and more cheerful, perhaps because the rain tapered off. Maybe because she knew we were getting close to the lake.
By the time we reached the sign at the turnoff for Bandera Mountain and Mason Lake, my daughter was more talkative, more engaged, and more cheerful, perhaps because the rain tapered off. Maybe because she knew we were getting close to the lake.

Maybe she was reflecting on everything she accomplished this summer. She aced an Intro to Quantum Mechanics course at UW, her first summer class ever. She also worked part-time helping several neighbors, entered three projects at the Washington State Fair, and passed the written test for her driver’s permit. In a week our family will be driving around the Ring Road in Iceland. If I think my life is full of change, hers is in even more turmoil. Silence doesn’t necessarily mean disappointment. It can also mean deep thinking. Perhaps she doesn’t enjoy rain as much as she says she does.

Our parental role over the past ten years has evolved from disciplinarian to consultant, as we relinquish responsibility and let her struggle to make her own decisions. As someone who bordered on a helicopter parent, letting go has been a challenge. However, seeing her evolve into the confident and competent young woman she is brings me immense joy.

On the hike down, my daughter wore my down jacket and I wore my fleece. This time of year in the Cascades we usually have hot, dusty days but fall appears to be here early this year. I miss certain aspects of childhood, but I love the confident young woman she's become.
On the hike down, my daughter wore my down jacket and I wore my fleece. This time of year in the Cascades we usually have hot, dusty days but fall appears to be here early this year. I miss certain aspects of childhood, but I love the confident young woman she’s become.

And having her along on hikes the past two summers has been a real blessing. We may not have been able to do as many this summer because of everything she has going on, but that has inspired me to reach out to other people. Her evolving role as a university student and workforce member has paralleled my evolving role as a health coach, confidant, and solo hiker. While it’s sad to leave the childhood years, I’m excited to see what comes next for us both as we move forward.

Hiking provides me with focused time I don’t get anywhere else. I’m looking forward to visiting Blanca Lake with my daughter in a few days, our last big lake hike of the summer before she returns to the university as a junior. When we’re in Iceland, I’m sure we’ll have inevitable conflicts and clashes that occur when three strong-willed people travel together for two weeks.

The shore of Mason Lake near one of the camping spots. We'll return next summer so we can try swimming when it's warmer.
The shore of Mason Lake near one of the camping spots. We’ll return next summer so we can try swimming when it’s warmer.

Whatever change you are experiencing, nature can guide and inspire you. I always have more clarity when I return from a walk with Ajax or a hike in the woods. Perhaps the single most important revelation for me is I am more present away from home than in any other place. I notice things I don’t see anywhere else. I’m ready for the next chapter.

If you have any tips on how you enjoy rain, or revelations you’ve gleaned from your time in the mountains, please share them below. I love hearing comments from readers.