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Sandstorm!
As we got deeper into the highlands, in the valley of Dyngjufjalladalur near Askja, we watched as a series of dust devils were cast off the mountainsides from the east. They were beautiful to watch as they skipped across the lands ahead - like mini tornadoes. But, we quickly realized we were headed into the heart of maelstrom. Our route went down the bottom of a sandy canyon. Regular gusts of sand-leaden wind came rushing down the canyon at intervals of every 30 seconds or less. When they hit, our only choice was to brace for impact, and often that wasn't enough. We were both knocked back 10 paces or more a number of times. And even between the gusts, the headwind was fierce. But, we had no choice, and no cover to take, so we plodded along. I managed to snap this photo of Dave coming out of one of the smaller gusts before I had to put my camera away and seal it up.
We finally came to a spot that took us out of the bottom of the canyon. But to get out, we had to cross a few hundred yards of the worst sand we'd seen. Here, the gusts were continuous. After pausing a moment to gather our strength, we tucked our chins and plowed ahead, finally emerging to the other side where the wind was still fierce, but without a payload of sand.
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