Iceland, you don’t just go to see it. You don’t just go to look at and take pictures of its waterfalls, landscapes, and surrounding rugged coastlines. You go to Iceland to breathe the fresh air, even if you are left breath taken. You go to feel the continuous wind on your face and float with the freezing yet beautifully deep-blue glacial icebergs. You go to learn from the steaming terrain of the lava fields and experience the erupting spray from waterfalls falling from the heavens. This isn’t just the land of fire and ice, this is a connection to a savage and rugged wilderness like no other.
For whitewater kayakers, Iceland, enriched in history, is a famous dreamland filled with enormous park-and-huck waterfalls and deep crumbling canyons. For adventurers, the whole country is full of undiscovered opportunities, from vast glaciers to multiple oceans. But take it from me: a trip here will be no walk in the park!
We landed in Reykjavik and collected our kayaks. Myself, Oli Cooper, and Andy Kettlewell immediately rallied north to make the most of the water levels and get some paddling in for a few days before meeting the rest of the team. Harry Sheerer, Piers Oliphant, and John Haines would all be flying in a few days later. Tired after a full day of travelling, our first paddle strokes in Iceland were on the lip of Reykjafoss. This famous waterfall, with a natural hot pool at the top, has a 10ft boof onto a ledge where it falls away another 30ft. Paddling this really set the standards for the trip and what was to come.
Making Viking Rafting our home for a couple of nights and meeting Canadian paddlers Andrew Oxley and Yann Gelinas, we quickly got into the Austari Jokulsa (East glacial river), a stunning canyon and the perfect way to get dialled into my ReactR.
Up next was a dream of mine, Aldjayerfoss. This waterfall, standing at 66ft, is big, powerful, and has a mega cool lead-in. Controlling the mind is the most important aspect of running this insanely unique waterfall. Calm, collected, focused, and ready, I snapped on my spray deck and trusted my line and every planned stroke. At the bottom, I couldn’t have been more stoked; even with a broken nose from a kiss with my paddle, the landing felt pretty soft. I nailed my plan, and what was even better, the boys nailed the media! What you don’t see on cameras, however, is the swarm of flies; when the adrenaline wears off, they sure get irritating.
Leaving Andrew and Yann, we headed south to collect John and visited some erupted volcanos and mental lava fields before hitting our next highlight. The Markarfljotsgljufur canyon. To get to the put-on is an adventure by itself; you drive along a rough 4×4 road, the road stops, and you keep driving. Eventually, over a mountain pass, into what feels like the remotest place on the planet with 4G. There are two ways into this magnificent crack in the earth: you either paddle a 60ft waterfall with a deadly cave on the right, or you take the route we did. Abseiling in below it, battered by spray, rocks falling as the ropes dragged across them. Saying I was nervous would be one way to word it. Paddling the 8km through here was exceptional. Water falling from either side, high levels left us with some bigger rapids, but mostly class-fun whitewater.
Following the South coast to the East, we continued with more kayaking, glacier and touristy stops, and all-round good times with the lads on the road. However, a lack of warmth, travelling, and camping life was slowly getting to me; tiredness was hitting pretty hard mid-way into the trip, but with the right crew, motivation is always possible. One of the next highlights for me was the Fossa. Team Wales and the Quebec boys reunited again, and everything was being thrown down. The Fossa, not needing much introduction, is probably one of the most well-known waterfall runs in the country; multiple clean pool drops and epic scenery bring out a special feel. Reindeer running past, cobra flips, and crystal clear water. Need I say more?
In the East, we found a beautiful cascading series of falls, running directly from a snow-capped mountaintop to a fjord in what felt like a few miles. In the middle of this stunning cascade was a 25-foot drop into a shallow pool with a manky runoff. It looked so good to go with the most amazing backdrop. Setting safety and camera positioning, one by one, we all paddled it, later finding out no one seemed to know anything about it, so potentially, and by accident, bagging ourselves a first descent.
We ended our tour of Iceland at Viking Rafting and the weekend of the midnight sun festival. Every Icelandic paddler came out and got involved. This event is so different to anything I’ve taken part in before. The never-ending daylight meant being on the river at midnight seemed normal, although getting back to camp at 3 am was a little confusing. The following morning is race day, and everyone, fully sleep-deprived, gets kitted up and takes to the ramp. The evening full of joy with prize giving and dancing left us even more tired the following day, ready for the long journey home.
Words by Lyndon Williams, Photos by John Haines.