Still building cairns

[shewhomust]

I have held forth before (repeatedly and at length) about the compulsion to build cairns. Evidently there are people who cannot see a stone without feeling obliged to place another stone on top of it. And you see an awful lot of stones in Iceland. Things have gone so far that cairn-building, like lighting fires, is explicitly banned in the national parks.

Driving east along Route 1 towards Skaftafell, we were catching glimpses across the plain of shining glaciers and saw-toothed mountains. We pulled in to a picnic area hoping for a better view, and only gradually realised that the parking area was surrounded by more than the usual number of cairns. In fact, it stood in the middle of a sea of the things. What's more, the mound at the far end of the area, with the interesting crenellated skyline? Nope, those are cairns, too.

There's a story, of course. THey're good on stories here, and on noticeboards to tell them. So, a large farm once stood here, called Laufskálar, so rich a building that it had 24 doors on iron hinges. But it was destroyed in 894, in the earliest recorded eruption of the volcano Katla. The lava mound is named Laufskálavarða, Laufskálar Cairn, after the farm, and everyone who passes here for the first time must add a stone to a cairn, for luck. The highways authority has moved a supply of stones to the site, to ensure that everyone can meet this obligation.

As it happened, I had a pebble in my pocket that I'd picked up on the black beach that morning, while we were watching the puffins. It was a wrench to part with it, but that surely makes it all the luckier, doesn't it?

Comments

[larryhammer]

I wonder whether there is more to it than just luck. All over Iceland, there are overland routes marked by cairns, dating back to Settlement days, many of them marking the way to Thingvellir. Most of them were continually used until roads were built in the 20th century, and in some places you can see the old and new routes running in parallel, or crossing each other. (This is especially spooky when driving in fog.) The ones I saw the best were all very sturdy, and I got the impression at the time that cairn maintenance was a part of a traveler's duties -- that is, putting another rock on is part of What One Does. Or, at least, Did. A badly marked route being bad luck in bad weather, which latter Iceland has in abundance.

---L.

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

That's a good point, Larry. I've certainly seen some very solid and 'official' looking cairns, and it's god to be reminded that they do serve a purpose.

On the other hand, all the more reason not to run wild - too many cairns can confuse the traveller as much as too few!

Catching up on stuff previously tabbed...

[weegoddess.livejournal.com]

I wonder if there's just an innate compulsion to leave a mark to remain after one is gone? Even if it's an anonymous mark. I expect that there's a similar element at work in the desire to have children...

(no, I'm not suggesting that leaving one's mark on the world is the only desire to have children. Just maybe an element of it for some.)