“Reindeer,” I said, pointing out the window of our rental SUV. “Look at those antlers.”
In winter, wild reindeer descend from Iceland’s mountains to feed on moss and lichen near the coast, where the snow isn’t as deep. And that’s where we were, driving to a hotel at the base of a glacier in early January.
After finding a safe place to pull over, we sat in our vehicle and watched the herd.
Reindeer, also called caribou, aren’t native to Iceland. Introduced from Norway in the late 18th century, their population grew from just over 100 to nearly 7,000 in 2019. Since then, numbers have fallen to about 4,000, and hunting quotas have been reduced.
Wildlife watching is just one of many activities that make Iceland appealing, and it is easy to see why Maine outdoors enthusiasts would enjoy it. I’ve been there twice, in March and January, and I plan to return to experience other seasons. From Boston, it’s just a five-hour flight away.
Iceland’s treeless landscape features snowy jagged mountains and lumpy lava fields that belch sulfuric steam from deep underground. Sea stacks rise over beaches of black sand. Dormant and active volcanoes form dramatic cones and ridges, their layers like giant staircases fit for trolls.
The terrain can feel otherworldly, almost like walking on Mars, yet in some ways it reminded me of Maine, with rugged mountains, rocky coastlines and remote wilderness. Even the highland roads, known as “F roads” or Fjallvegur, resemble Maine woods roads, requiring a 4×4 vehicle, high clearance and a taste for adventure.
Lighthouses dot Iceland’s ragged shoreline. The few native trees that persist, including birch, mountain ash and juniper, are familiar to Mainers.
Much like Mainers, Icelanders embrace outdoor life. During my January trip, I saw people hiking, mountain biking, ice skating, horseback riding and driving ATVs. Outdoor sporting goods stores were everywhere. As an outdoorsy shopper, I fit right in.
Their sense of practical fashion also felt familiar. Icelanders may not be plaid-crazed like Mainers, but wool is everywhere, prized for warmth. The country has about 4,000 sheep — which coincidently matches the human population.
Iceland’s population of just under 400,000, most concentrated around Reykjavik, leaves a lot of open space and wilderness to explore.
Tourism has exploded recently, with nearly 2.3 million visitors in 2024. But it’s still possible to escape the crowds by traveling off-season, late autumn through early spring, renting a vehicle and seeking out less-advertised waterfalls, beaches and mountains.
Instead of the crowded Blue Lagoon, we hiked Mount Thorbjörn, an extinct volcano nearby, and had it all to ourselves. From the summit, we could see the steaming turquoise pools below and trace a black band of newly cooled lava from eruptions that began in 2021.
Lava flows had reshaped the landscape, and berms were built to control future paths. The solitude, the dramatic views and the sense of discovery reminded me of Maine’s quieter mountains.
Being from Maine prepared me for Iceland’s mercurial weather, but the wind here is next level. It’s known for ripping car doors off. We lucked out with many calm, if chilly, days, though we did weather one snowstorm with winds strong enough to close roads near our hotel.
By morning, the storm had passed enough for us to drive to the rendezvous point for a guided glacier hike — one of my favorite experiences of the trip.
Vatnajokull, Europe’s largest glacier, offered hiking across ice, descending into naturally formed caves that shift constantly as water flows through the rippling blue walls. Sunlight filtered through the ice, glowing in otherworldly shades of blue.
The next day we explored Jokulsarlon, a glacier lagoon where icebergs drift toward the sea. Waves break the ice into smaller pieces that wash onto Diamond Beach, sparkling like gems.
Jokulsarlon is also a hotspot for watching seals and waterbirds weaving around icebergs in search of fish. Observing wildlife in Iceland is fun because it’s never overwhelming — only so many animals are hardy enough to survive here. The country has just one native land mammal, the Arctic fox. We didn’t see one, but we did spot tracks in the snow.
Iceland hosts bird species you won’t find in Maine, including whooper swans, ptarmigan, red-winged thrush, white wagtail and several types of geese. At the same time, it shares familiar faces with Maine’s skies and waters, from common loons and puffins to harlequin ducks and a variety of other waterbirds.
Iceland is also prime for viewing the northern lights, painting the sky in ribbons of green, pink and purple. Daylight varies dramatically. In early January, we had just 4.5 hours of light. In June, the sun barely sets. Mainers know the extremes of northern light, but Iceland takes it to another level.
With dramatic weather, extreme landscapes and long winter nights, Iceland isn’t for everyone. But for Mainers who love the outdoors, it offers adventure and wilderness that feels both familiar and new.
In many ways, it is Maine as it might have looked thousands of years ago, when glaciers were retreating and caribou still roamed the land.
