7/23/25: Dettifoss, Stuðlagil Canyon, & Plenty of Puffins!

From the lovely Mývatn and Húsavík area near the northern tip of Iceland, where Steven and I had spent the last few days, we began driving further north around the Tjörnes Peninsula. It was a mostly desolate but still scenic terrain with the occasional farm breaking up the empty road, en route east toward the Eastfjords via two very impressive detours, Dettifoss Waterfalls and Stuðlagil Canyon. 

We hadn't known that on our way to East Iceland, we'd pass Jökulsárgljúfur National Park and Iceland's second-largest river, Jökulsá á Fjöllum, which translates to the Glacial River in the Mountains.

If it hadn't been so chilly and blustery, we'd have loved walking along the cliffside path.

A little further on was the spectacular Ásbyrgi Canyon, a large, U-shaped canyon that began to form from eight to ten million years ago, in the wake of the last Ice Age, following catastrophic glacial flooding of the Jökulsá á Fjöllum River. Was Asbyrgia's formation supernatural or divine? An entrepreneur and poet shared the myth that the distinctive horseshoe or U-shape formed when Sleipnir, Odin's flying horse, touched the ground with one of its eight hooves!

Though birch woods were extensive when Iceland was settled around the year 1000, some were cut down for timber, with the rest used for charcoal in smelting iron. Though the Icelandic nation survived, many of its woods did not. The Ásbyrgi woods persisted, thanks to their being protected as part of a national park. 

Locals relate the story of a poor farmer's son from Byrgi and a girl from the estate who were not allowed to marry. A fairy told the girl in a dream that her lover had been turned into a beast by a creature living on the cliffs. 

He could only surface from a pond when the midnight sun "gilded the cliffs," and by confronting the beast and throwing their dearest possessions into its jaws. Then the girl could break the spell and free the fairy's lover. If that occurred, the young couple would marry. People who claim to have seen the hidden people describe them as being like us, but more beautiful and prosperous. They also say that the hidden people's capital is in the canyon. 

The Icelandic sweaters in a shop by the cliffs were once again gorgeous, but too pricey to be worth it.

Another beautiful sunny day in Iceland as we walked toward the Dettifoss Waterfall viewing platform!

Striking basalt columns like these will be a feature I'll always associate with our Iceland trip.

Due to a landslide just six weeks earlier, it was dangerous to venture off the paths leading from the upper viewing platform. The mist was so thick and all-encompassing that we didn't have much of a view of the powerful and thundering falls.

Another path down to the waterfalls was also closed due to the landslide. 

Dettifoss, at 340 feet wide and 150 feet high, was as large as a North American football field! Over 50,000 gallons of water rush over its parapets every second to the gorge below the falls. Views from the close-up platform:

Another trail by the falls headed upriver to a slightly smaller waterfall, Selfoss. 

A view looking back to Dettifoss with evidence of how dangerous it was close to the edge: 

Though overcast, we still had amazing views of the wide Jökulsá á Fjöllum River and the falls at its head. 

Some of the vertical basalt ledges were crumbling away into the milky waters below. 

If you like lukewarm hot dogs, Iceland is definitely the place to come! There are lots of hotdog stands, but none we found served hot hot dogs, including this one by the falls. We gave up eating hot dogs in Iceland after this spot, especially since each was seven bucks a pop.

After crossing a one-lane suspension bridge over the river, there was an eighty-mile drive through a stark, almost lunar landscape, Iceland's answer to Montana's Big Sky Country. It appeared that one farmer had marked his property line for miles with rock cairns.

Further on, Iceland's answer to Norway's Pulpit Rock was Herðubreið, a steep flat-topped volcano created when molten rock pushed up through a glacier. It was striking to see how an eruption had changed the landscape from farmland to a barren plain. 

In the middle of absolute nowhere was a rustic log cabin and a couple of gas pumps. The Beitarhúsið Cafe was famous for its love balls, or ástarpungar, a fried sweet dough akin to donuts, often filled with berries or raisins.

As the plain descended, we could see where the Jökulsá River had carved a canyon through the mountains. A narrow, mostly gravel road led to the dramatic Stuðlagil Canyon, which was only revealed by the construction of a new dam, completed in 2007, and subsequently discovered by tourists around 2016.

This section of the river, called Basalt Column Gorge, is thought to have Iceland's most extensive collection of basalt columns. 

There were a 'mere' 245 metal steps down to the viewpoint to see the basalt columns up close on the east side of the canyon!

The dam project diverted the once deep-flowing Jökulsá á Dam River into a tunnel for hydroelectric power, exposing the previously submerged basalt columns and leaving behind a shallow river of turquoise-colored water. Steven and I were fortunate to be there in the early summer when the river was at its turquoise peak, and not muddied when a nearby reservoir overflows. 

I hadn't known before our visit that basalt columns are described as the crystals into which lava has contracted as it was cooling. What made the canyon quite special was that the gorge contained both the standard vertical columns as well as horizontal columns, which we'd never seen before. Though most columns have a hexagonal shape, some have four, five, or seven sides.

A view across the river to the canyon's west side 

My heart fell to my stomach as I watched two men climb this rocky precipice in the middle of the river and then walk within a few feet of the edge.

How I loved the striations in the basalt and the exquisite-colored water!

I don't remember eyeing a sign for the North Pole before, do you?!

In my opinion, the spectacular Stuðlagil Canyon was one of Iceland's most stunning sights and deserved far greater recognition on the tourist circuit. 

Even though it was already 5:30, there was still a long, long detour ahead of us northeast toward Hafnarhólmi to try and see the most accessible Atlantic Puffin colony in Iceland. They nest there every year from the middle of April to the beginning of August. Steven, as the driver, just kept saying there had better be puffins when we got to the literal end of the road!

One of Iceland's few remaining turf houses: 

Borgarfjörður eystri in East Iceland is a fjord and settlement known for its natural beauty and famous for its large puffin colony, which attracts many visitors, especially during the breeding season. 

The community's main settlement is Bakkagerði, a hamlet of just 91 people in 2024. 

The area is strongly associated with Icelandic folklore, particularly the belief in elves, with a notable landmark being Álfaborg, or Elf Rock, which is thought to be the residence of the elf queen. 

Cartoon illustrations at the Hafnarhólmi islet welcomed visitors and pointed out where their donations would go. That was the first time we'd seen cartoons in any official capacity.

Hafnarhólmi used to be an island until a harbor was built in 1973, connecting it to the mainland. Around thirty species of plants are found at the puffin habitat, with types of grasses being the dominant ones. 

I thought of you, Sarah, when I saw this rusted-out boat, as I remembered your fondness for rusty items.

We could hardly believe our good fortune on seeing a slew of puffins as soon as we began walking up the steps behind the harbor! I was so excited as I'd wanted to come and see these puffins ever since we started planning this part of our trip. We'd first encountered puffins on our brief stopover in Iceland's Westmann Islands in 2013, and I was still as gobsmacked by them. 

Phew, my name would have been mud if we hadn't seen any puffins after driving so far out of our way! Steven wouldn't admit it right away, but even he was taken with the adorable puffins after a bit.

Thirteen species of birds are known to have bred at Hafnarhólmi, including 7,700 pairs of Atlantic Puffins, almost two thousand Common Eiders, and several hundred pairs of Black-legged Kittiwakes.

The eiders and puffins nest in the grassy areas, and most other birds nest in the cliffs or in crevices in the rocks. 

The bird and puffin blind:

Boo hoo, our last puffin on the trip:

As had happened several times, the weather late in the day was quite glorious after a rather miserable start. That was a blessing as we had another one hundred klicks to go before reaching our final destination that night, and it was already 7pm. 

After soaking up the lovely weather, we encountered a pea souper as we summited 2,043 ft.-high Fjarðarheiði Pass en route to the small town of Seydisfjordur in East Iceland. We hoped there would be no wandering sheep on the road!

The town below us:

We then began the slow switchback descent down to the fjord, passing innumerable waterfalls gushing down craggy cliffs.

The former Skaftfell Art Center, a prominent cultural institution located in Seyðisfjörður, had been transformed into a busy restaurant. Steven almost jokingly said that while driving for the last hour or so, he was so tired that he didn't have the energy to chew when we sat down at 9 to eat. 

Our accommodation was half of the town's former music school, a humongous, two-story rental that was sadly wasted on us for the few hours we'd be staying.

Still light out at 11pm!

Next post: Winding our way around the Eastfjord villages.

Posted on September 6th, 2025, from Chicago, where Steven and I came for a far-too-short weekend trip to visit our second daughter, Natalie, her husband, Adam, and their young family. Please take care of yourself and your loved ones. I hope they aren't as far away as all but two of ours are.