August 29: Into the ‘Mouth of Hell’
VITI CRATER [August 29, 2009] — The Brown University group stood at the edge of the Askja caldera and paused to take in a view as alien as anything seen on Earth.
Ahead of them, stretching almost to the horizon, was bare ground, scorched repeatedly by the Askja volcano’s eruptions (the last one was in 1961) and then subjected to the twin weather beaters of water and wind, which had ground the lava to coarse red and black rock. Beyond this forbidding landscape rose the rim of a crater, and beyond it towered jagged, snow-capped peaks.
“Into Mordor!” yelled Jack, his voice barely audible in the whipping winds, and the group surged ahead.
Indeed, it seemed as if we had walked straight onto the set of the Lord of the Rings movies, a motley band of geological Hobbits striking out through a piece of 50 square kilometers of evil terrain to reach the Viti crater, which Icelanders call “the Mouth of Hell.”
Viti is a warm hydrothermal pool with a milky blue color. Beyond it lie the sequined blue waters of Oskujvatn, a lake 11 kilometers (6.6 miles) across and 220 meters (720 feet) deep that filled with water after the Askja volcano blew its top in 1875. That explosion was so immense that it spewed volcanic shards as far as continental Europe and ash that poisoned cattle throughout northern Iceland.
The 1875 eruption also spawned a vent located in a corner of the soon-to-be-formed lake, which became Viti. It’s about a mile and a half to Viti from the parking area, but the distance is hardly the story: It’s the wind. When we started, we faced a stiff headwind that rippled our rain gear as we leaned forward and marched ahead. About halfway there, the wind grew stronger, blowing gusts that lurched us backward periodically. Fine-grained elements and rain pelted our faces, and we put on sunglasses to protect our eyes.
The true test, however, lay in the ascent to Viti’s lip. The wind roared as we crept ahead, our heads and torsos bent nearly parallel to the ground as we sought leverage against the ferocious gales. It felt as if we were trying to walk through a wall. Jack has stood outside in hurricanes, including Hurricane Bob, which struck New England in 1991. The winds at Viti were easily as powerful as those hurricanes, he said. So strong were the gusts that no one could stand at the lip without being knocked backward.
Stiff wind
From there lay the route into the mini crater itself. A sign at the top of the slope warned, “Enter Viti at Own Risk.” To use another Lord of the Rings analogy, it was if we were entering Sauron’s lair. The slope was steep and slick with orange-reddish mud, and we picked our way down gingerly. At the bottom was Viti lake, a popular spot for Icelanders due to its therapeutic waters. This day, however, the lake was anything but inviting. The whipping winds dashed across the surface, blowing flame-like fans of mist. The hydrogen sulfide rotten-egg smell was overpowering. But the Brown geologists were not here to go swimming. There were rocks to analyze, surface features to scrutinize, all in an attempt to imagine what may have happened to rocks and minerals on Mars.
Jack and Bethany broke out a rock hammer and their spectroscopic equipment as they examined a slope. As Jack fingered some material, it crumbled in his hand. The sides of Viti were coated with iridescent colors of red, green, white, black and yellow.
“There’s just this surface stuff flowing down from above,” Jack said, his voice rising to be heard above the wind. “It’s gooey and sticky, like modeling clay.”
About 20 yards away, Mike and Ulyana were taking core samples. Each group worked methodically, resolutely, as the howling winds blasted fragments of rocks and stinky water into their eyes and ears.
“Getting showered with pebbles,” Bethany announced as she paused and took in the challenging conditions, “it’s such a nice touch.”
Bethany then chipped at a yellowish-greenish impression on the slope. As she reached in to grasp a sample, she drew her hand back with a yelp.
“Ooh, it’s hot!”
The opening she had created was sending out puffs of hydrogen sulfide. The slope was smoking.
With the sun dipping below the crater, the group completed its sampling and headed up the slope and out of Viti. The geologists took more core samples of scoria — reddish lava spouted forth in volcanic fire fountains — and black basaltic sands, another type of volcanic material. The rain had intensified and turned into sleet. The wind had not slackened. We hustled for the warmth of our vehicles.
Ulyana breathed a huge sigh — half relief, half exhaustion.
“These are the worst conditions I’ve ever worked in,” said the 22-year-old, who has done geologic work in Antarctica and Greenland. “It was just so hard. But we got some awesome stuff.”
As we bid goodbye to the Mouth of Hell, the display in our vehicles read: “3 degrees Celsius (37 degrees Fahrenheit), Ice.”
That was all there was to say.