Tested by nature: A 25-day solo trek through Iceland's wilderness
Iceland is one of the most famous volcanic islands in the world. With numerous trails and attractions, it has become a popular destination for all kinds of tourism. However, it's important to remember that you are hiking on a huge volcano. The Katla volcano has been quiet for about 80 years, but could erupt anytime. According to an experienced Icelandic tour guide, it generates over 163 earthquakes every 48 hours.
Why Iceland?
Iceland appeals not only to hardcore hikers but also to regular tourists. Relaxing in the numerous hot springs or observing one of the largest geysers in the world is a highlight. However, my goal is different. After achieving my daily target, I unwind in my Hilleberg tent, my home for the next 25 days. This compact space, measuring 8ft 2in (2.50m) by 5ft 3in (1.60m), is where I eat, sleep, reflect, and recover from days filled with rain, storms, and numerous river and mountain crossings.
It is the indescribably harsh nature that draws me here. I seek to explore my spiritual and physical boundaries anew and reflect on my life, the endless path, in search of bliss. Every expedition is uncertain. One should not begin with expectations except to reach the destination, ideally in good health and without injury.
Why do this by myself?
Everyone has their reasons for living and experiencing things in a certain way. Everyone feels and interprets things differently. For some, it's relaxation on the beach. For others, it's exploring the country in a motorhome or sightseeing in cities.
Mother Nature has always welcomed me with open arms and given me a sense of security. She is also a great teacher and highly selective. She demands the best from everyone who moves within her realm. Only nature can present me with challenges so vast and seemingly unattainable that I must push all my abilities to their limits—and beyond—to become the best version of myself. It’s a certain path of self-discovery.
I’m searching for something I can’t yet define—answers to questions that guide my life. I believe that only through pain can we discover our true character and find answers. There’s an inner drive pulling me into the distance. For me, it’s about inner peace, spiritual growth, and a life full of adventure, far removed from the "normal" way of living.
The second life begins when we realize we only have one. Courage is the beginning of action. Happiness lies at the end.
Key considerations
First, an expedition is always associated with costs—equipment (shelter, sleeping gear, clothing, carrying system, electronics, etc.), transport, safety/communication, food, luxury/comfort items, and more. Every new expedition has unique expenses that need to be considered. Once this is clear, preparation can begin.
Climate and Terrain Conditions
The climate and terrain conditions I will encounter are crucial considerations. A tent isn’t always the best solution. In the jungle, for example, sleeping off the ground is advantageous to avoid insects, reptiles, and other creatures that can make the stay quite uncomfortable. Clothing and carrying systems are also key factors.
Duration and distance
I need to know how long I’ll be traveling and what distance I must cover. Civilization plays a role as well. Will I pass through places where I can restock my supplies, or will I be remote for 20 days or more? Packing differs significantly when you know you’ll only be out for two days versus an extended period.
Solo vs. group travel
I will be traveling alone, and isolation can be a significant challenge for some people. In a group, many obstacles become easier to handle. Decisions can be approached from different perspectives, emotions can be shared and discussed, and the sense of shared responsibility helps lighten the load.
However, I believe that traveling with others distorts the core experience. In a group, you miss out on opportunities to truly test your limits and learn about yourself. Traveling alone, though, comes with far greater risks. Many who have traveled solo will understand: your hurdles, your decisions, your consequences, your successes, or your failures—it’s all on you. This intensity forces you to live completely in the present moment.
Preparation
Be ready for rain
In Iceland, I am faced with very rugged and hilly volcanic terrain. Glacial plains, desert sections, and boggy areas will also be part of my trip. The temperature can and will drop to 37°F (3°C) through the night during my stay. The weather on the island is also very harsh, with frequent rain and storms.
During my 25-day stay, I experienced heavy rain on 24 days, making the wind chill effect a critical factor. In such conditions, a high-quality shell set is essential and must be chosen carefully. In a remote environment, far from other people and without an easy rescue chain, hypothermia or a serious illness could quickly become life-threatening.
I opted for the Arcade Set from RevolutionRace as it has a very small pack size. Nevertheless, there are a few things to bear in mind with the jacket. It is shorter than a normal rain jacket. There is also no elastic on the back of the hood. This means that the hood remains static when the head moves, and therefore, the field of vision is restricted. I would also strongly recommend treating the set with a DWR treatment before heading out, as the factory DWR treatment can withstand around 3 to 4 heavier rain showers, and my trip was going to be for 25 days. I like the DWR treatment from NIKWAX, and you can find the necessary instructions on their website. I have been using it myself for years, and it has always served me very well.
Packing system
During my stay, I will cover approximately 194 miles (312km), with access to 'infrastructure' only for the first 50 miles (80 km)—though calling a small hut with overpriced products and an outhouse 'infrastructure' is a stretch. I won’t encounter anything similar again until the end of the journey, so I must rely entirely on my preparation in the meantime.
When it came to the carrying system (rucksack), I chose the Osprey Aether Plus 85 L. At 6ft 4in (193cm) tall and 249 pounds (113 kg) (athletic build), it was the ideal size to accommodate all my gear and food for a 25-day trip.
To manage the 57-pound (26 kg) load as comfortably as possible, I made a few modifications. For instance, I created custom carrier pads since the standard straps were too narrow for this weight and would have dug into my shoulders. Given that I spent much of my time in an inclined position due to the steep trails, these adjustments were absolutely essential.
Adjusting your equipment to ensure maximum comfort is crucial for a successful trip. While discomfort is inevitable, never compromise on your "regeneration setup"—such as sleeping gear, shelter, and food. When you're out in adverse conditions for an extended period, these basics become essential. A tense, fatigued body from poor sleep and inadequate food is more prone to mistakes and less ready for action than a well-rested and nourished one. Prioritizing regeneration is non-negotiable!
Planning the optimal route
For my 312 km self-planned circular route around the Mýrdalsjökull glacier, I chose Skógar as the starting point. This route includes some of Iceland's most iconic landscapes, with about 50 miles (80 km) covering the renowned Landmannalaugar Trail.
I recommend walking the Landmannalaugar Trail from south to north. While this direction feels more strenuous—almost entirely uphill—you’ll avoid the main tourist flow and have the chance to enjoy the trail's beauty in solitude. Despite the challenge, the trail is absolutely worth it. For detailed information about the trail, visit Laugavegur Hiking Trail. Note that the Laugavegur Trail is a shorter segment of the full Landmannalaugar Trail.
After completing the Landmannalaugar Trail, the route continues along approximately 37.3 miles (60 km) of gravel roads, typically only used by 4x4 vehicles. At this point, you’ll leave behind most signs of civilization—there won’t be any more people on foot from here onward.
What follows is the reason I chose this route: secluded, untouched nature. This is followed by smaller glaciers, countless river and mountain crossings, deserts, barren landscapes, and boggy areas with quicksand.
Rescue and emergency preparedness
While marked paths and trails make rescue access easier, self-planned expeditions present greater challenges. Since I’m following my own route rather than a well-trodden one, rescues can become more complex.
Most of my expeditions take place in wild, untamed areas where nature is indifferent to human presence, and often reminds you of that. There’s no safety net; it’s just me, the obstacles I face, and the decisions I make to move from point to point. This creates challenges, as a helicopter cannot pick me up from a mountain cliff. In such cases, a rescue might take hours or even days, so I plan accordingly by packing enough food and water. For safety, I rely on the Garmin InReach Mini paired with a matching subscription plan.
Transportation
Flight: I traveled from Gothenburg to Keflavik, Iceland, with the airline PLAY.
Keflavik to Reykjavik: I took a bus from Keflavik Airport to Reykjavik City using the bus company Viator. From the city center, you can either book a shuttle service to nearby campsites or walk. I recommend the Reykjavik Eco Campsite, which is about a 45-minute walk from the city center bus stop.
Reykjavik to Skogar: I used the bus company Reykjavik Excursions to travel from Reykjavik to Skogar. You can also book a shuttle service from the Eco Campsite to the bus station for added convenience.
The same process applies to the return trip.
Physical and Mental Preparation
Preparing physically and mentally is just as important, if not more, than having the right gear. The body and mind are far better at handling mistakes than any equipment. That’s why I focus on targeted, expedition-specific training to build resilience. For example:
Tailored Training: The demands of the expedition shape my routine. If it involves high altitudes or cold temperatures, I train by running stairs with extra weight while maintaining a reduced body weight to lessen the load I carry. My eating habits are adjusted to prepare my body for challenging conditions, though I keep a body fat buffer. Through past expeditions, I’ve learned my body stabilizes after losing about 22 pounds (10 kg).
Cold Endurance: To prepare for the cold, I incorporate high-intensity outdoor workouts in minimal clothing, followed by plunges into cold lakes or rivers. This toughens both body and mind.
Strength and Endurance: A typical session might involve carrying a 55-pound (25 kg) rucksack filled with pebbles and water, plus ankle and wrist weights, while running 6 miles (10 km) through a hilly forest. The incline is critical, as strength and endurance are key. Physical preparation usually begins three to six months before the expedition.
Mental Preparation: It's mentally important for me to enjoy the process, not take myself or my journey too seriously, and avoid dramatizing challenges. A healthy mix of seriousness (professionalism), controllable craziness (risk management), and nervousness (keeps you awake and alert) is appropriate.
Want to know what Florain packed for this journey?
My experience
Skógar: The beginning of my 194 miles (312 km) journey
Skógar marks both the start and end point of my 194 miles (312 km) round trip around Mýrdalsjökull, Iceland’s fourth-largest glacier, covering 230 square miles (596 square kilometers). Iceland greeted me with heavy fog and relentless rain. Little did I know that this unpredictable weather would persist throughout my journey. One moment, it was sunny, and 10 minutes later, there was a torrential downpour with 25 mph (40 km/h) winds.
The weather prevented me from seeing many of the sights, and I had to reach my first camp at around 0.7 miles (1,100 meters) in challenging conditions: a headwind, 16 feet (5 meters) of visibility, and a mix of clouds and heavy rain. After an exhausting 9-hour uphill trek to the mountain hut, I finally arrived and focused on drying off and warming up. About an hour later, the sky cleared, and for the first time, I could enjoy a clear view of what lay ahead. After a night of rest on scree and lava rock, I set out on the Laugavegur Trail.
On the trail
Campsite conditions were similar throughout the trip, and many tourist groups with little to no experience will be gracing the landscape. But the trail itself was breathtaking, crossing vast altitudes and showcasing Iceland’s otherworldly landscapes.
Hiking the trail feels like journeying across three planets with all the shapes and colors that nature brings with it. Black deserts give way to glacier crossings, followed by red and yellow mountains dotted with hot springs and sulfurous smoke that fills the air. Eventually, you descend into stunning mountain gorges crisscrossed by roaring rivers, with the trail ending in Landmannalaugar.
A journey of challenges, luck, and reflection
From here, an uncertain path begins. Steep and slippery glaciers, precarious mountain crossings, and narrow 98-feet-high ridges—all in relentless daily rain and storms. Daytime temperatures hovered between 48–55°F (plus wind chill effect), while nighttime temperatures dropped to 37–43°F Countless ice-cold river crossings, in mostly knee to waist-high traveling water, are on the agenda.
I felt small earthquakes and saw massive car-sized boulders falling from cliffs just 164ft (50m) away. At one point, I nearly sank into quicksand, escaping only by sheer luck. The storm and rain trapped me for two days on a mountain ridge, and my tent peg snapped loose in the middle of the night with a noise like gunfire. I had to reposition the tent in the pouring rain, even though I weighed down my tent pegs every night with 22–44 pounds (10–20 kg) of stones.
After crossing the mountains, the terrain flattened. Soon, I found civilization in the form of rugged, sandy roads, accessible only to raised 4x4 off-road vehicles. Drivers smiled and shook their heads as they passed me, walking through nearly chest-deep ice-cold water, stripped down completely, with the Backpack over my head. Eventually, I spotted the first house and then a paved road—I sensed my journey was nearing its end.
Returning to civilization
It feels strange to be back in civilization, almost like being an outsider in a world where I no longer belong. I often feel a certain distance from society, something that has grown stronger over time. I’m not ready to let my thoughts settle on the fact that it’s already over. How can the journey have ended so soon? Now, I have just under 50 miles (80 km) of tarmac roads ahead of me. I have to make a decision, as it is strictly forbidden to go wild camping in Iceland unless you are far away from civilization.
I decided to hitchhike to the nearest village. After about half an hour, I got a lift from a Lithuanian hotel employee, and we talked about our time in Iceland. After about an hour's drive, I thought about how easy life can be and what a privilege it is to be sitting here in this car, which will take me about 31 miles (50 km) to the next town. Later, I learned this decision had likely saved my life.
A close call
I arrived in Vik and pitched my tent on a flat, grassy area—the first time in a long while I had such a comfortable spot. The next morning, I continued on my way. After leaving the last wilderness behind me, I still had about a day's walk ahead of me. As there was once again no possibility of pitching my tent in a remote location, I decided to hitchhike the rest of my journey to Skógar.
After waiting for about 45 minutes, I got a ride from a Polish tour guide who mentioned that a storm flood had occurred between the previous evening and that morning. It was caused by minor earthquakes, heavy rain, strong winds, and the combined flow of mountain rivers and glacier meltwater.
The storm flood occurred exactly where I had planned to set up my overnight camp. If I had stayed there, the tide would have struck in the middle of the night and swept me away. Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt, as the road is rarely used during the night.
I spent the rest of the ride in a daze, reflecting on how fortunate I had been throughout this trip. All these surreal moments, from battling hypothermia to experiencing pure happiness, surrounded by untouched, indescribable nature and dealing with perpetually wet sleeping gear. Lost in thought, I didn’t even notice the car had arrived at my destination.I thanked the driver for his kindness, snapped a quick photo with him, and ended my journey where it had all begun.
Lesson: Timing
Everything in life has its time. Events unfold as they should, often testing the strength of your character. Focus on changing what you can actively change, and approach the things you cannot change with acceptance, composure, and a calm mind. Experience teaches you that there are moments to act and moments to wait—and knowing the difference is key.
