National parks. Soaring volcanic peaks. Cascading waterfalls. Remote stretches of rugged coastline abundant with birdlife. Perfect scenery for a summer road trip. Make the trip in a Mini-class rental car costing over $100 a day and running on $9.00 a gallon gas, travel in mid-summer where high temperatures never top sixty degrees, end the day with a $10 happy hour beer and be in bed long before it gets even close to being dark – that’s road tripping Iceland-style.

Like the previous summer’s trip to Alaska, which was proposed by Heather as we wiled away a November afternoon on the beach at Puerto Morelos, Mexico, our Iceland road trip idea was born on a scorching hot day in Placencia, Belize this past spring. It seems something about the oppressive heat of the tropics that makes Heather yearn for a cool summer destination. I, for one, take issue with having to pack long johns, heavy socks and a wool hat for a summer trip. But with those items, along with a full set of rain gear, a high-limit credit card and the maximum allowance of purchases at the airport’s duty-free liquor store we set out on a two-week road trip that would take us nearly 1,200 miles around the ‘land of fire and ice’. After an overnight flight from Denver to Iceland’s international airport in Keflavik, we picked up our teeny-tiny rental car (at $100/day the cheapest available) and pointed it eastward toward the capital of Reykjavik. We passed along its outskirts, turned north, and entered the countryside – rollings hills, scattered stone farmhouses, meandering streams, dirt roads and pastures of grazing sheep and horses. After a visit to a pair of waterfalls we settled into our first nights guesthouse, had an early dinner of Icelandic cod and chips, and, allowing jet lag to overtake us, were in bed long before the sun had neared the western horizon.

Day two would take us around the Snaefellsnes peninsula, which juts out into the northern Atlantic Ocean towards Greenland, only a couple hundred miles away. The peninsula is bisected by a mountain range, the coastline is dotted with small fishing villages and the end is capped by the massive Snaefellsjokul glacier. After stopping to enjoy the views of volcanic cliffs, the Bjarnafoss waterfall, seeing sea lions lounging on the rocks at a coastal nature reserve, driving to the base of the glacier (apparently a no-no for our class of rental car given the rugged road) and enjoying a seaside lunch of soup and homebaked bread at a cafe in the fishing village of Arnastapi, we ended the day in Grundafjordur, on the peninsula’s north coast, in the shadow of Kirkufell, Iceland’s most photographed mountain.

For the next three days we traveled through the Westfjords, the country’s most sparsely populated area, a region of remote valleys, fjords, high alpine passes and one of three spots on our trip where we could see puffins. At the tip of one of the many fingers of land in the Westfjords, a sea cliff stretches for three miles along the Greenland Strait and is home to over a million seabirds through the short chilly season Icelanders call summer. At the Latrabjarg cliffs, the puffins roost in small burrows along the top of the cliff face, where the young chicks eagerly await the return of their parents – hopefully with a mouthful of small fish for dinner.

Each day we drove in and out of several fjords, sometimes hugging the coastline, at other times climbing up and over the mountains separating them, creeping through the thick mists that obscured the heights. At the end of the day we were always relieved to reach our night’s accommodation, whether is was for the plokkfiskur, a traditional dish of cod, potatoes and onions at the Hotel Latrabjarg, which overlooked the white sands and Caribbean-like blue waters of Patreksfjordur; the fish and chips and friendly vibe of the pub at the Fisherman in Sudereyri; or the geothermal pool of the Hotel Laugerholl in the countryside outside Holmavik on our last night in the region. The remoteness and variety of scenery made the Westfjords my favorite region of the country.

Leaving the Westfjords we traveled across the north coast, visiting colorful Siglofjordur, a village steeped in fishing history; camped under the stars in a yurt; and spent an afternoon soaking in the thermal pools of the Forest Lagoon outside Iceland’s second largest city – Akureyri. The spa featured soaking pools, a cold plunge pool and a Finnish sauna. As if staring through scented pines at the water of the Eyjafjordur while enjoying the naturally-heated waters of the soaking pools, the Forest Lagoon also has a bar offering cold beer, wine and cocktails right at the pools edge.

A dramatic sky over the yurts of Original North’s campground on the north coast

The highlight of Iceland’s east coast was the village of Borgarfjordur, which sits on the Norwegian Sea. Our room at the Blabjorg Guesthouse overlooked the water; the on-site restaurant offered a tasty menu, a selection of Icelandic craft beers and spirits from the neighboring distillery; and the puffin colony at the nearby marina was just a short drive away. While on the east coast we also spend an enjoyable night at Brekka i Loni, a farm outside the village of Stafafell, where our room overlooked the owners sheep and horse pastures and the waters of the Jokulsa River.

The previous ten days of our road trip had spoiled us. The roads were virtually devoid of traffic. Our guesthouses were small, quaint and quiet. As we rounded the southeast corner of the country and made our way along the south coast, things changed. The roads were choked with traffic around the popular sights, parking lots were packed and the accommodations were often large, character-less hotels catering to the bus tours that plied the south coast highway. The coastline was still stunning, the waterfalls were still impressive, the colorful puffins at the Dyrholaey arch were still cute, but we found ourselves overwhelmed by the crowds and spending very little time at any of the attractions. One spot that was well worth a visit was the Jokulsarlon Lagoon, which sits at the base of Iceland’s largest glacier and is filled with icebergs that have calved off the glacier’s wall. As the bergs make their way out to sea through a short river from the lagoon, many wash ashore, polished clear by the sea water, to settle on the black sands of Diamond Beach.

On our first night, we had learned that the Fragradalsfjall volcano had begun erupting just hours after we had landed. Hoping to see this active volcano, we had to keep our fingers crossed that the eruption would continue as we made our way around the country, eventually circling back to the area around Reykjavik. On our next to last night we decided to forego the next days planned itinerary and use the day to visit the volcano. After breakfast at our guesthouse we packed the car and drove seventy-five miles out to the Reykjanes peninsula to a parking area at the trailhead. The trail climbed up to a ridge that overlooked the site of last years eruption, which was covered in a river of solid black lava. Moving along the older lava flow, we could see faint puffs of smoke in the distance. Cresting another ridge after nearly two hours of hiking we had our first glimpse of the new eruption. Stopping in our tracks, our mouths hanging open, we were enthralled by the sight of molten lava spewing into the air. We moved closer down the hillside and took a seat on the ground, enjoying natures show while munching on the sandwiches we had packed. Once Heather felt she had enough photos, and with a harsh wind chilling us to the bone, we trekked back to the car. By late afternoon we had driven into Reykjavik, checked into our absurdly tiny room, and ventured out for food and drinks in the capital city. We rehashed the incredible experiences of the past couple weeks, noting how unique Iceland’s scenery is, but also agreeing we were ready to return home, peel off the long johns, stash the wool hats and rain gear and soak up the last bit of Colorado’s summer. Of course, we also had to start planning our next trip.