South Greenland
South Greenland seemed like a pretty good choice for my first visit.
There are bi-weekly flights from Reykjavik, Iceland to Narsarsuaq, the "gateway" to Southern Greenland. From Narsarsuaq I had several options: by taking advantage of the ferries and helicopter flights between the nearby settlements,
I could reach a fascinating part of the island and a variety of landscapes and towns.
In Reykjavik's tiny downtown airport I realized I was the only American traveler and one of only 2 or 3 solo travelers waiting for the much-delayed flight to Narsarsuaq. The other passengers were members of small European tour groups. While in Greenland I encountered small groups from Denmark, Germany, Italy and Spain. From what I could gather, in addition to my research back home, these groups were fairly expensive. The groups also followed strict itineraries and generally steered clear of any strenuous hiking or other activities. I was happy to have the freedom to go where I wanted to go and to do whatever I wanted to do. Slightly jet-lagged from my overnight flight from New York to Reykjavik, I was more than a little disappointed at the 5 hour delay in the flight's departure. The flight originated in the Faroe Islands and apparently had been delayed due to weather conditions there. At any rate, the beginning of a strange odyssey finally got underway . . . late.
Flying into Narsarsuaq, the only fixed-wing landing strip in southern Greenland, is more than a little intimidating. For one thing, the view from the airplane for quite some time takes in the "Inland Ice" or "sea of ice" that covers 85% of Greenland's interior. Craggy mountain peaks and ridges seem to struggle through the ice and thrust through the surface, which flows around them in a very disturbing deliberateness. The titanic clash between jagged mountain ridges and the inevitable smothering power of so much ice makes one feel very small and insignificant. As the plane approaches Narsarsuaq, the mountains seem to break free from the ice and emerge as giant, forbidding masses – these are some of the oldest rocks on the planet, more than 3 billion years
old. As the plane descended I asked myself for the first of many times, "Where the heck am I?"
South Greenland's landscape is both forbidding and seductive.
Looking at a map of the area one is struck by the serrated coastline and can't help but be confused
by the fingers of land that extend in every direction against a blue background. To make matters worse, the "land" is actually a jumble of vertical mountains, most of which are completely inaccessible! The
finger-like fjords snake through the mountain ranges and terminate in bays that themselves are the end-points of the glaciers that run down from the inland ice cap. If all of this sounds
confusing, try navigating through this region! Needless to say, there
are no roads connecting any of the towns or settlements. This landscape will thrill the adventure traveler and probably over-awe and perhaps
intimidate the more conventional traveler. Me, I was there to hike, and the confusing maps
and chaotic jumble of jagged mountains, fjords, glaciers and lakes only excited me even more.
After a relaxing night at the Narsarsuaq Youth Hostel (the average age of
the guests was well beyond the "youth" range) I decided to take
the recommendation of the manager, Eric, and begin my hike north on a beautiful
sunny day. My destination was the Qooqqup Glacier and I can assure you that there
have been few times in my travels when I was as excited as I was that day. I was in
Greenland and it was a beautiful day! (I had fully expected rain). I headed north of "town"
(a small collection of buildings clustered near the landing strip and
airport) along an actual road. The road is a remnant of the days when the airstrip
was used by the United States Army during the Second World War and for several years
thereafter. It leads through a glacial valley
which also bears the nickname of "Hospital Valley:" a large barracks-like hospital
complex was also built here, and later abandoned. Everything was scavenged and removed
and all that remains today is a winding asphalt road and a lone chimney stack.
After the paved road ends, a rocky path continues up the valley toward the inland ice
and the outlet of an inactive glacier, the Kuussuup Glacier. On each side of the valley
the mountains rise up, jagged and rocky but softened somewhat by a covering of stubbornly clinging dwarf willow and juniper, with vibrant green moss and grass growing near the many tiny streams that run off the mountainsides.
The path to the glacier passes through a lovely valley called the Blomsterdalen, and parallels a sparkling clear and very swift-running stream. Following the stream to a vertical wall from which it tumbles as a waterfall, I had no choice but to climb straight up. After struggling with the vertical rock face, I was rewarded with a spectacular view. The glacial river zigzags down to the mouth of the fjord, towering peaks flanking it in every direction. Looking back up toward the ice cap and glacier, the view is bleak but hauntingly beautiful: hard gray rock and dark icy lakes at the bottom of neighboring peaks that are even higher than the ones below. This is the trail to the Kuussuup Glacier.
For trailblazers and adventurers, there is the rewarding possibility of a different glacier experience outside of Narsarsuaq. By climbing further up and over an eastern ridge, which in fact forms the Mellemlandet Peninsula, one can hike over to the adjacent fjord and see one of the most spectacular glaciers on earth: The Qooqqup Glacier. There is no path, or in fact, any easy way to traverse the ridge. The buggy, willow choked hillsides zigzag past a chain of dark brooding glacial lakes which must be circumnavigated. Steep cliffs rise abruptly from several of the lakes. When I undertook this hike, I was struck by the remoteness of the central ridge of the Mellemlandet Peninsula. Once one climbs away from the small trail from Narsarsuaq to
the Kuussuup Glacier, there is no longer any trace at all of human passage. In fact, there is also no likelihood of encountering another person on this ridge: it is well off the beaten track. The incredible silence of this landscape only enhances the feeling of remoteness. Of course, the eerie boggy lowlands and jagged rocky highlands don't help much either! More than once I reminded myself that this was not a place to be careless: a sprained ankle or mishap of any kind would be very serious in this remote landscape.
The hike is extremely rewarding, however, because the ridge eventually ends in a dramatic drop down to the neighboring fjord. This fjord terminates in an active glacier which presents a truly awe-inspiring view: a giant wall of blue ice filling an entire valley, behind it a sea of white ice
flows endlessly from the Inland Ice cap. From the high ridge elevation one can see mountains and ridges suffocated by miles of flowing ice. In front of the glacier face is a giant bay, opalescent blue, choked with ice so dense it looks like you could walk across it. Further out the bright blue water is more evident, but it is still studded with huge blue and white ice chunks. At the point where the Qooqqut fjord widens before joining another, larger fjord, a circle of massive snow-capped peaks serves as a backdrop.
The overall silence is overwhelming. The view is so startling and the scale so vast that the mind can barely take it all in. While trying to mentally process everything, I tried to interpret the occasional strange sounds which echoed from
the ice-choked bay. The ice is under so much pressure that a kind of moaning and cracking noise sometimes drifts upward, slightly distorted by the distance. Every now and then a very sharp cracking or gunshot type of noise reverberates up from the ice.
The day I hiked to the Qooqqup Glacier was sunny and beautiful but the bugs were out in force! Hundreds of tiny midges swarmed around my face, attracted to the carbon dioxide and flying on a suicide mission. Before I hurriedly put on my bug hat, I swallowed more than a few. Aside from that one drawback, however, there are few day hikes I can recommend more highly. Warning: this hike is a long one, mostly off-trail, and involves hand-over-hand rope climbing, rock climbing, some sloshing through bogs and a high level of bug tolerance!
