In the brisk dawn hours, I’m walking in the dim dark light that has had a subtle glow throughout the duration of the night. In Iceland the sun sets but it doesn’t really go away; it’s kind of like the scent of a skunk that hangs on for dear life even when the animal isn’t even present. Yet, much like the suns dim-lit radiance, the ever changing allure here is the landscape - its unpredictable, mystical, and inspiring - so when in the freezing early morning hours, after having hiked through the night some 10 hours post holing through snow while dodging early afternoon hikers and crossing waist high glacially fed waters - turning around to the sight of the rising sun behind a cylindrical cone shape mountain sparked like a million flowing volcanoes that lit a fire of admiration in me that still burns strong.
By geological standards Iceland isn’t that old. At 24 million years, the formation of the island came from the mid-Atlantic ridge, a separation between two tectonic plates which, runs right through the middle of the island. This ridge explains the 200 volcanoes, 35 of which are active, and can also help to explain the barren landscape that welcomes you as if you are stepping on to another planet. I like to think it's a mix of tropical meeting North America’s tundra – bellowing plumes of smoke, countless waterfalls, and mass portions of thick glacial ice.
It is no wonder that when the first Vikings came to the island, they deemed it uninhabitable. While future Vikings would end up changing their minds and settling here, Iceland managed to keep rather isolated. Even by today standards the small North Atlantic Island, with just over 330,000, still manages to keep to a low profile. However, in 2010 the world’s eyes gazed on Iceland with wonder as a volcano that nobody outside of Iceland could pronounce – Eyjafjallajökull, let off some smoke, disrupting air traffic and forever changing Iceland’s tourism industry, which now hosts over 1.5 million tourists annually.
As painful as it was to hear reporters fumbling the name of this volcano, I too had challenges and, if it wasn’t for word association of the volcano ‘Hey-I-forgot-my yogurt,’ with a little accent thrown in, I would’ve have been in the same boat.
In Icelandic, the name of nearly every town, mountain, river, lake, etc. translates to literal terms. For example, Reykjavik stands for ‘bay of smoke’ (reykr – smoke, vik – bay). In my three summers spent guiding in Iceland, nearly all of my vocabulary came from learning the meanings of the names of places with the occasional compliments like ‘you are pretty,’ ‘you are a good cook,’ or some other sort of phrase that would get a confused look from Icelanders who couldn’t tell what I was trying to do or say. Yet amidst the challenge, most Icelanders speak near fluent English so, after befuddling words you can attempt to redeem yourself with a little explanation of why you are so weird and perhaps get a little chuckle out of the exchange.
......are rather reserved folks but once you get to know them they begin to open up. In comparison to US cities, the whole island is about the size of St. Louis, so word travels fast and everybody seems to have some sort of connection to everyone they see, whether its direct or indirect.
If you are a true Icelander your last name will stem from your fathers name and will end with a son or dottir (daughter). They even have a dating app that pulls from a database and can tell you how far removed you are from a potential partner. Perhaps it’s a testament to Icelanders creativity, humor and ability to adapt to the elements. Its been said that one out of 10 Icelanders will publish or author a book in their lifetime. The legends and sagas have been passed along for centuries and the country has a knack for crafting tales of trolls, fairies, elves, Vikings, hidden people, and unidentifiable sea creatures.
A perk to connecting to the island was listening to friends recount folklore and sagas - stories of drama and fear. When I heard my first story of a fairy and laughed, I learned quite quickly from a friend who politely taught me this wasn’t ok…a huge portion of the population believes in what some would see as mythical creatures. ‘Baby steps’ helped me to embrace the culture and community, whether it be through throwing back Brennivín (Icelandic schnapps) with fermented rotten shark known as hákarl or dodging aggressive Artic Tern birds. It’s a big part of the KAVU lifestyle and while the KAVU days may be a little cloudier than normal here, there is nothing like finding a local friend to teach you of the intricacies of the places and history that make Iceland what it is.
There is no stopping short of adventure in Iceland. The island boasts an extreme culture from rock climbing to trudging ‘super’ jeeps through rivers to mountain biking, ice climbing, skiing, surfing, hiking, paragliding, etc. Iceland really does have it all, however, when you delve into something it is fun, unique, and like the weather, it can again be ever changing.
Maybe it’s the ability to be flexible or just push through the elements. The amount of days that I couldn’t climb because of rain was filled with another sort of adventure, even more memorable because of the esteemed randomness that came with the challenge. Lowering into crevasses in the rain and ice climbing out to sunny skies, mountain biking the fjords of the north to howling winds, swimming with icebergs, or just simply biking home late at night and not having a clue as to what time it was.
There is inevitable mystery around every corner on this island and embracing Iceland with a KAVU attitude can lift the fun to record levels.
Trevor Husted
© 2026 KAVU