The Changing Earth

160 miles through Iceland's volcanic interior.

By Peak Design

Matthew Whalen (@whalenography) is part of The Changing Earth team. The Changing Earth is an online adventure learning project. The project focuses on the environmental and social impacts of climate change, and positive stories of adapting to those changes within each location they visit. With four expeditions to the Arctic and four to the tropics planned over four years, the project ultimately hopes to help create a generation of socially engaged and environmentally conscious learners around the globe.

Recently the team embarked on their second expedition crossing Iceland's interior. We'll let Matt take it from here....

Customary welcome

Arriving at the Reykjavik airport, a customs officer suspiciously scanned over the nearly twenty duffle bags of gear we had in tow.

“What’s the purpose of your trip?” He asked.

“We’re doing a two week educational expedition through the Highlands”

“Oh,” he paused, “We have a lot of problems with foreigners in the Highlands.” He might as well have turned us around and sent us back to America.

Our route had us on a 160 mile trek through Iceland’s most treacherous landscape, the Highlands. This wouldn’t be my first expedition dealing with subfreezing conditions, high winds, and blowing snow, but our initial greeting established a foreboding tone as we entered the country. When you’re out in these extremes trying to perform the job you were hired for, you’re battling more than just the elements. There’s an ever lasting tug- of-war between the objective and subjective nature of these trips. The objective of an expedition normally feels tangible. You have your gear prep, deliverables, equipment maintenance etc. These things you can put on a list and check off at the end of the day. The real hurdles are the subjective parts of the trip. When you’re whisked away to a foreign land, staying focused on the task at hand becomes exponentially harder with every drop in temperature and gust of wind. This is where the inevitable external thoughts begin to seep into your work, testing vigilance and resolve.

“Are the batteries warm enough to operate? Do my snowshoe straps need adjusting? Am I getting too hot and should I open my coat vents? Did I forget to turn my air conditioner off in Texas?”

dancing skies

Even on the first day, we heard the echo of that customs officer’s warning. The Super Jeeps that we thought would be taking us toward the top of the first summit were stuck in the snow near the base. It was day one of the expedition as well as my birthday. We started the 2900ft vertical ascent that would take us nearly 14 hours.

Exhausted, we finally made it to the top with barely enough energy to pitch camp. And that’s when the lights began their decadent dance. The iridescent brilliance of the lights left us speechless. The northern lights were shimmering across the sky and we stood in awe under their spell. Some pretty killer birthday candles.

Teammate vs The Lone Ranger

There’s another constant question bouncing around in my head when we’re in the middle of a demanding trek day: “Is it worth stopping the group to set up the camera equipment and potentially jeopardize our momentum?” We needed to make mileage to meet our planned objective, but I also need to document the trip. I’ve learned that when I’m hired for an expedition or project of this size, I have two main functions. There is my role as part of the team and the job I was individually hired for. Sometimes these roles contradict one another, but it’s important to find some form of balance between the team and in myself. Should I seize the moment, or sacrifice for the team and make mileage? There really is no right answer, but one thing should always be considered... the probability of seeing a place like this again.

Right at Home

Over the next 12 days of our trek, we camped in the middle of blowing ground blizzards and found warmth in some sections of the cabin system along the way. Ultimately, we lost three days on our itinerary due to harsh weather conditions and had to cut the expedition short. But we realized, as the customs officer put it, that we were not the “problem”. It’s the extreme unpredictability everybody faces when traveling in the Highlands. The weather, the terrain, technology and our own hardships can all be in the balance of the land itself. And I found myself in moments like with the northern lights, instead of feeling like a troubled foreigner in a strange land, I naturally felt right at home.