ICELAND TRAVERSE

Notes and reflections

First off, the packing list shown here is the one we actually used — not the one in the photo. After taking that picture, we made a few adjustments. Not everything we brought turned out to be essential, and with more modern gear, some items would have been unnecessary.

For example, our rain shell wasn’t Gore-Tex, so its water resistance was limited — we had to carry an extra poncho as backup for heavy rain. Same story with the pants: if they had been Gore-Tex, the overpants wouldn’t have been needed. On the other hand, gaiters were a total win: during days of continuous rain, they kept water from seeping in through the ankles and soaking the upper part of the boots, which usually aren’t waterproof.

The heavy jacket saved us during the coldest moments, but it was bulky and outdated — a lightweight 100-gram down jacket would have offered the same warmth in much less space.

Merino wool deserves a chapter of its own. This natural fiber is soft, ultra-fine, and incredibly functional: it keeps you warm when it’s cold, breathes when it’s warm, resists odor, and dries quickly even when wet. Perfect as a first layer next to the skin, it was our best choice for T-shirts and socks. For shirts, we preferred blended fabrics (60–80% merino, the rest synthetic), a good compromise between performance and durability. The same logic applied to the socks: we also packed one synthetic pair as a backup, since they dry much faster.

Thermal tops, on the other hand, turned out to be unnecessary. We brought just one and never used it — fleece and jacket worked better and were more versatile. In the end, the thermal shirt was repurposed as an improvised towel for our feet after river crossings… proof that a small technical towel would’ve been a smarter choice!

The buff was a real lifesaver: besides protecting us from the cold, it doubled as an eye mask at night to block out the light.

And finally, an often-overlooked detail — flip-flops. They were invaluable at the end of the day, letting our feet breathe after long hours in boots. If you prefer, you can replace them with trekking sandals and skip the water shoes altogether, but be prepared for a much slower drying time.

When you spend several weeks hiking far from towns and with unpredictable conditions, a well-thought-out medical kit becomes essential. We chose to bring the medications most useful for the main problems that could arise.

For muscle or tendon pain, we relied on Ibuprofen and Voltaren, using the latter for more intense inflammation. Since Non-steroidals Anti-inflammatory Drugs (NSAIDs) can be harsh on the stomach, we also packed Pantoprazole as a gastroprotective. For fever, Paracetamol was our go-to, while for intestinal issues we covered both extremes: Imodium for diarrhea and a herbal supplement for constipation — a surprisingly common issue when eating almost exclusively freeze-dried food for two weeks.

As explained in the water section, we relied on the filter + purification tablet combo. Still, we carried a backup plan in case the filter failed: paper coffee filters. They can’t remove bacteria, but they do trap suspended particles. In an emergency, they’re a useful temporary fix — as long as you boil the filtered water for a few minutes before drinking.

For the traverse, we brought 30 freeze-dried meals — enough for 15 days, even though the plan was for 13. That gave us a small safety margin. The meal packs didn’t include breakfasts, and after a bad experience the year before with freeze-dried ones, we decided to bring 2 kg of dry biscuits instead — enough for about ten days. Not the lightest option, but definitely better than morning nausea. Once they ran out, the plan was to restock at Landmannalaugar with more biscuits and to use leftover bars as a small “dessert” after main meals.

Cooking was simple: we just had to boil about 400 ml of water for each meal and pour it directly into the pouch. We also carried a tiny emergency camping stove, to be used only if the main one failed — if you’re using screw-on stoves, a great example is the BRS 3000T.

One often overlooked detail: salt. It’s not just for flavor — it helps restore electrolytes. The water in Icelandic rivers and streams, coming from glacial melt, contains almost no minerals. Adding a pinch of salt to your meals helps prevent muscle cramps during the trek.

gas canister

Gas canisters can’t be carried on planes, so you’ll need to buy them in Iceland. We used a classic “push-on” camping stove (Campingaz CV470), where the valve closes automatically when disconnected, allowing reuse of the same canister. However, this model is less common in Iceland — most hikers use modern “screw-on” canisters.

In Reykjavík, both types can be found at Iceland Camping Equipment inside the BSÍ Bus Terminal, while screw-on cartridges are also sold at Iceland Cover. Some sources report that the classic type is available at N1 gas stations, though we couldn’t verify this ourselves.

We carried two large canisters and one small one, enough for the entire trek. Still, cooking outdoors in Icelandic wind is no easy task: it often took 40–50 minutes just to bring water to a boil, even with every windscreen trick we could think of — consuming more gas than expected and sometimes leaving meals half-cooked. Patience is key: take your time, set up a good wind shelter for the stove, and cook calmly.

Our tent naturally included poles, stakes, and a double flysheet. For anyone tackling a crossing in Iceland, this isn’t just a recommendation — it’s a requirement. Your tent must be high quality, able to withstand both violent wind and relentless rain. Anything less and you risk finding yourself in the middle of nowhere with your shelter compromised.

We used a sturdy model (Ferrino Snowbound 3), yet even during the first few nights, some poles bent under extremely strong gusts. Luckily, the tent held, allowing us to continue the trek — but it reminded us how crucial durability and repair tools are. Ferrino provides a small repair sleeves to temporarily reinforce broken poles — a simple but essential piece of gear you should always carry.

For the stakes, we preferred lightweight aluminum ones. Still, it’s worth bringing a few extras: in Iceland’s sandy ground, they’re easy to lose or forget.

One small trick that made my life easier: instead of a traditional inflatable pillow, I brought a simple pillow case. Every night I stuffed my down jacket inside it — the result was a soft, full pillow that worked far better than any inflatable version I’d tried before, while saving both weight and space.

As for the sleeping bag, I used a high-quality down model rated to 0 °C comfort. Even sleeping only in underwear and a t-shirt, I never felt cold. On warmer nights it was almost too much, while on the colder ones I just slept wearing my fleece. My partner, on the other hand, used a synthetic bag rated to 5 °C and definitely felt the chill more often.

Finally, an extra that might seem unnecessary but turned out to be a real game-changer: a lightweight folding chair. Not essential, sure — but being able to sit “normally” during breaks or in the evening made a huge difference, especially for our backs after long hours carrying heavy packs.