Near Myvatn, this is an extremely active area, geologically. Here, ground water has been heated by magma far below and has forced its way to the surface via steaming mud pots, or solfataras. The mud is often a slate gray with a tinge of blue, bubbling at very high temperatures. All around, but especially near the vents, a crust of sulfur covers the ground in beautiful orange, yellow and white patterns.
Some of the water escapes the ground as steam, hissing through piles of stones. These vents whistle with the extreme pressure…tea anyone? Great veils of steam periodically blow across the trail…by the time they reach the air they are less intense, and will generally not burn you, but they are nonetheless quite dramatic. Finding oneself within one of these clouds is unforgettable. To describe the smell as sulfurous may be technically accurate, but aesthetically it doesn’t quite express the complexity of these…olfactory poetics. Not to say that it’s nuanced! The closest description I came up with at the time (and wrote down shortly afterward) was the combination of unwashed hiking socks combined with the scent of a Newfoundland dog after a warm, rainy day swimming in a duck pond.
The area is fairly organized for tourists…with clearly marked trails, roped areas, viewing stations. I made two visits to capture images of tourists as well as the sights. At one point, a party pulled out a large video camera and attempted some footage. They worked a while, but expressed concern that the acidic steam in the air would ruin their lenses. At first, I dismissed this concern as petty, but having returned to the car, soon found that it was true. My glasses got quite wet from the steam exposure. I was able to dry them fairly quickly, yet the damage had already been done…the droplets had etched into the coating of the lenses and left a mottled, dull pattern. Fortunately, my cameras came away unscathed.
