I noticed this mountain last year, while standing on the edge of the largest crater (Rauðkúla) in the Berserkjahraun lava field. It was greener and more gentle in shape, and it stood out against the jagged, bare rocks around it and the red soil of the crater.

On the left, the raw and bare Kerlingarfjall. On the right side of the road, you can see part of my mountain.
On the left, the raw and bare Kerlingarfjall. On the right side of the road, you can see part of my mountain.
Here it appears from behind the red edge of the Rauðkúla crater.
Here it appears from behind the red edge of the Rauðkúla crater.

For the next five weeks, I kept coming back to the Berserkjahraun lava field, each time looking at the hill that had caught my attention that day.

I thought it had no name. Only later, while checking map apps, I found it: Hafrafell. There is no official path or trail leading up to it. I couldn’t find anything even in Wikiloc, which I often use for ideas and which is full of routes recorded by other hikers. It’s especially useful in places like this, where there are very few official trails. Still, I knew the area well enough to try on my own.

One day in July, I went to try it. I parked at a viewpoint overlooking the Berserkjahraun lava field and the lake formed by the lava flow. This place always takes my breath away.

View of the Berserkjahraun lava field, Selvallavatn lake, and the craters.
View of the Berserkjahraun lava field, Selvallavatn lake, and the craters.

This time, though, I was looking in a different direction than most visitors. On the other side of the road rises the quiet, almost unnoticed Hafrafell. To reach its base, you have to cross wide stretches of tall, stiff grass and moss. Still, since I moved here, I have never regretted the effort of exploring new places.

In return, I always get wide views, streams covered with bright green moss, and a complete reset.

Hafrafell - view from the road.
Hafrafell - view from the road.

This time was no different. As I climbed, I kept looking around at the familiar landscape I had come to know well over the past weeks. On one hand, I love discovering new places. On the other, I like knowing exactly what surrounds me. The landscape has already settled so deeply in my memory that I can recognize it easily from different angles.

At first glance, it all looks harsh. But once you get closer, you notice the softness of the moss and the contrast of colors.

As I climbed, I kept looking at the Berserkjahraun lava field.

Even after three years, it still feels like I’m seeing it for the first time. I take photo after photo, and later I realize I already have hundreds just like them ;)

One of the four craters. I don’t remember its name.
One of the four craters. I don’t remember its name.
And here is the largest crater of Berserkjahraun - Rauðkúla. It was from its edge, a few weeks earlier, that I first noticed Hafrafell.
And here is the largest crater of Berserkjahraun - Rauðkúla. It was from its edge, a few weeks earlier, that I first noticed Hafrafell.
A short rest on soft moss :)
A short rest on soft moss :)

The ridge of the mountain was long, and although it looked gentle, at one point it became quite steep. I thought about turning back. But after going a bit lower, I found a sheep path. I figured that if sheep could walk there, so could I.

Getting closer to the green part of the hill that first caught my attention weeks earlier. The photos don’t really show it, but the contrast with the surroundings is striking.

Right next to it stands the rocky Kerlingarfjall.

It looks more intimidating than it really is. I managed to climb it in October last year.

A bit further on, another mountain I have my eye on -  Grímsfjall.

And in the distance, other mountain ranges.

Including Helgrindur, where I live below.

A road that hasn’t been used for almost 25 years.
A road that hasn’t been used for almost 25 years.

The walk turned out to be quite long, but I managed to cross the entire mountain. The last part, pushing through the grass and moss back to the parking spot, was the most tiring.

That summer was full of sunsets. Most of my walks ended with watching this quiet spectacle.

I never really planned it. It just kept happening. This time was no different. I reached the parking spot just as the sun was setting over the Westfjords.

Even then, I knew this summer would become a legend for me.

--- Thanks for stopping by! --- @astinmin
I'm the only author of the text and photos

Icelandic stories:
A year of transition - small trips and moving to Iceland
Where my home is - "Iceland in miniature"
Winter at my place - not as scary as they said
Chasing spring in Grundarfjörður
Wolf Beans: purple beauty or invasive species? A trip to Ingjaldshóll
Welcome to Mars: Kerlingarfjöll Mountains
Katla's tongue – Sólheimajökull Glacier
In the shadow of the glacier: the stunning Þakgil campsite
Moss and ice: the road east
Basalt and turquoise: Stuðlagil Canyon, East Iceland
Cracked earth - driving to Stykkishólmur
Off the beaten path: Hafrahvammagljúfur Canyon and the hot spring shower
The road to Mývatn: through rain and wilderness
Around Lake Mývatn (1) - Víti Crater and the Hverir geothermal field
Around Lake Mývatn (2) - the monochrome world of Hverfjall
Around Lake Mývatn (3) - Leirhnjúkur: a walk on warm ground
On the way home - Goðafoss, the waterfall of the gods
North Iceland - a small harbor and a basalt coast: Hauganes and Kálfshamarsvík
West Iceland - two unusual waterfalls framed in autumn gold
Beyond the postcard - a summer evening at Búðir and Arnarstapi
Around the Westfjords (1) - first impressions
Around the Westfjords (2) - Dynjandi Waterfall
Around the Westfjords (3) - on the way to Norðurfjörður
Around the Westfjords (4) - secrets of Kistuvogur cove
Around the Westfjords (5) - where the road ends
Waiting for Summer: along the lupine road