The ice stretched for miles ahead of us. A white desert, silent and powerful – yet far from lifeless. Smoke plumes rose from resting volcanoes beneath the ice, reminding us that this landscape is always changing and that the very island we were on was created by lava rising from the sea. Beneath us – fire. Around us – snow, wind, and sun. Above us – an ever-shifting weather setting the rhythm for our days. We had what we needed. We had each other. And we had 13 days ahead of us across Europe’s largest glacier, Vatnajökull.

This is a short story of our wilderness experience in our attempt to cross Europe’s largest glacier, Vatnajökull in Iceland, May/June 2025.

Stuck in the lunar landscape

As proper expeditions ideally should, ours began with an adventure just to reach the starting point. A journey that in itself felt like a small mini adventure. With the help of two large Superjeeps on massive tires, we left Reykjavik and drove into volcanic lunar landscapes without roads or signs of civilization. And as one might expect, challenges appeared before we even got started. Both vehicles got stuck in soft lava rock. Freeing them was an operation that took hours. And sometimes you find yourself in situations that are inconvenient in the moment but that you know will become good memories and stories later. This was one of those.

Almost at the glacier, the vehicles got stuck again, and we decided to carry all the expedition gear the last few hundred meters onto the ice where we would begin. Finally at the starting point, the vehicles left us after managing to get free from the loose rock.

A different kind of expedition than before

From our starting point at about 700 meters above sea level up toward Grímsfjall hut at 1,728 meters, the trail climbed steadily. But what made the deepest impression on me this time wasn’t the altitude gain or the trek itself. It was Mina. My daughter, my expedition partner, and now – clearly – a full member of our little polar team. For the first time she pulled her own sled the entire way. She was responsible for all her gear, in full control in the tent, and managing her tasks independently. Where I once had to guide her from task to task, I now had a teammate who moved from one job to the next on her own, knowing exactly what had to be done and what was expected of her.

I was no longer the one navigating and holding control over where we were going and what was next. This time it was Mina herself walking in front, navigating by cloud formations, terrain markers, wind patterns in the snow, and the sun.

It changed the flow of the journey, but most of all, it changed something in Mina. When asked how it felt to walk in front, navigating and pulling her own sled, she answered: “It feels really, really good. It feels great to know I can do it, that I am in control and manage completely on my own.” I realized that is what one calls mastery when I heard her response.

We have entered a new phase. Not only as father and daughter, but as hiking companions and partners. The balance between us is shifting – in a good way. Where I once made most decisions and carried most responsibility, we now share it. And in that lies a deep joy – for both of us.

We walked 130 kilometers in 13 days. With time on our side, we were able to further develop polar skills and routines. But there was also space for laughter, good conversations, and magical moments where time seemed to stand still. On the horizon we saw Grímsfjall rise like a low fortress on the ice plateau, and inside the hut at the top we enjoyed a brief taste of warmth and shelter before continuing toward the edge of the glacier.

Alone with my own thoughts

Continuing across the ice plateau in the following days, I sent Mina a bit ahead so she could walk completely alone into the vast white world before her. For it is a special experience to walk first, whether young or grown. How was it to walk there alone, I asked when we met again; “It was really nice to walk there with my own thoughts, just being.”

Connecting with nature – and through that, with ourselves – is a central part of what we seek with both our short and long journeys. To be present with the real world and nature gives us the chance to be present with ourselves, to get to know ourselves, and to hear our inner voice. I do not know of any other setting or method that opens up that connection with our inner voice the way nature does.

This has been one of the finest expeditions we have shared. And perhaps the most important – because it marks a kind of shift. With this journey, Mina became the youngest in the world to cross Vatnajökull by her own effort, pulling her sled and carrying her own equipment at the age of 9. A small piece of polar history, yes – but for us first and foremost a great piece of adventure history and memories we will carry with us.

We thank Real Turmat – not only for the food that keeps us going in harsh conditions, but also for helping highlight stories of nature, growing up, and life skills outdoors. That means more than you know.

Thank you for walking with us.