We’d visited this gorgeous site the afternoon before, but it was lichened thoroughly with fellow tourists, disgorged by the busload onto the volcanic sand. Rather than attempt an international incident, we decided to return early the following morning to properly augment the landscape.
On the Saturday of Nov 24, 1973 a United States Navy airplane was forced to land on Sólheimasandur’s black sandy beach in the south of Iceland. The crew survived the landing and the airplane’s remains are still standing at the crash site. While the dream shot would have had our intrepid model astride the plane itself, there were a few too many fellow tourists on hand to accomplish that. The shot below is a few hundred feet from the site, where the terrain dipped slightly. Enough to obscure an efficient view of our antics.
The first stop for exposure came moments after we left the milky vapors of the Blue Lagoon; still simmering, we marveled at the mossy tufa stretched along the narrow ring road. There were few places to turn off that didn’t involve negotiating a rather steep shoulder. Our car being what it was, we bided our time until fortune favored this halcyon spot
What better way to honor the imperial beauty of Iceland, than to drape human beauty all over its features? I sought to plumb the extent of this mystery by driving all over the island, capturing an often deep freezed Elisabeth Evans on volcanic outcrops, in fairy glens, and in this case, on an oft-visited landmark, Dyrholaey. We arrived just before 6am, some time before the ubiquitous tour buses unloaded their first catch.