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The Blog of Axel Lidenbrock : June 23rd 1863

From: Harry Hayfield <harryhayfield~at~googlemail.com>
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 2008 18:10:25 +0100
To: "Jules Verne Forum" <jvf~at~gilead.org.il>

BlankThe day I have been dreading since we arrived in Iceland has come. June
23rd is the day that we start our ascent of what could so easily become our
graves. We left the rector's house at nine o'clock this morning and after
giving the rector a few coins for his troubles started on our way.

No sooner than we had set off then I began to get nervous again, but
remembered something that my uncle had told me when I was a small child, "If
you know the facts about something, then you know there is nothing to be
scared of" so with that in mind I asked this box of tricks to give every
single fact it had about Sneffels (and then wondered if that was a mistake
in itself!).

  a.. Snæfellsjökull is a stratovolcano with a glacier covering its summit
in western Iceland.
  b.. The name of the mountain is actually Snæfell, but it is normally
called "Snæfellsjökull" to discern it from two other mountains with this
name.
  c.. It is situated on the most western part of the Snæfellsnes peninsula
in Iceland. Sometimes it may be seen from the city of Reykjavík over the bay
of Faxaflói, at a distance of 120 km.
  d.. The adventurous Bárðar saga Snæfellsáss is the best known of the
Icelandic Sagas that take place in this area.
  e.. There are archaeological remains from the period of Iceland’s
settlement around 900 years ago.
  f.. Near Gufuskálar there are a large number of dome-like structures of
unknown origin, thought to be between 300 and 500 years old.
  g.. Fishing flourished in the 13th century and the human population grew
in the areas around the glacier.
  h.. A church had been built on Ingjaldshóll hill before 1200 AD.
Well, having read all of that is it any wonder that three hours had elapsed
and I was beginning to feel very tired indeed but it did allow me to see
something that if I was going to die on this mountain was very pleasing. Its
snowy summit, by an optical illusion not unfrequent in mountains, seemed
close to us, and yet how many weary hours it took to reach it! The stones,
adhering by no soil or fibrous roots of vegetation, rolled away from under
our feet, and rushed down the precipice below with the swiftness of an
avalanche. In other words, very dangerous but exceptionally beautiful at the
same time.

By seven o'clock we were making marvellous progress as we had climbed just
over three thousand feet but my word was it cold! I had a look at this box
and noticed it was showing two thermometers. One of them was reading 46°F
and next to was the label "Stapi" (to which I assumed was the current air
temperature at the rector's house), the other thermometer (which was reading
27°F) had a line attached to it and a small dot on the side of a
representation of the mountain. I can only assume that the 27°F was the
temperature we were feeling at the moment. Just as I was wondering what the
temperature would be at the top Hans spoke.

"Ofvanför" he said, to which my uncle helpfully explained that we would have
to continue upwards but the reason why was most unusual. I looked down upon
the plain and saw an immense column of pulverized pumice, sand and dust
rising with a whirling circular motion like a waterspout; the wind was
lashing it on to that side of Snæfell where we were holding on; this dense
veil, hung across the sun, threw a deep shadow over the mountain. If that
huge revolving pillar sloped down, it would involve us in its whirling
eddies. This phenomenon, which is not unfrequent when the wind blows from
the glaciers, is called in Icelandic 'mistour' or as I knew it from this box
of tricks a dust devil. And when you have a dust devil made of sharp rocks
there's only one thing to do, "Hastigt" or as one of my English friends
would describe it "SCARPER!"

Thankfully we managed to avoid that dust devil and nearly 14 hours after we
started we reached the summit of the volcano. Supper was rapidly devoured,
and we did the best to make the summit as nice a hotel as possible. Mind you
the bed was hard, the shelter not very substantial, and our position an
anxious one, at five thousand feet above the sea level. As I started to
drift off I noticed that the thermometer had moved and was now level with
the top of the mountain. The thermometer at the rector's house was reading
39°F, whilst the thermometer at the top was reading 10°F (or to put it
another way 22 degrees of frost), no wonder then that I was wrapped up
warmer than a very snug bug in a rug!

Received on Mon 23 Jun 2008 - 20:10:33 IDT

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