Chasing the Aurora on Iceland's Ring Road

The Allure of Iceland in Winter

Iceland has a way of getting under your skin, in a good way. As a personal injury attorney by trade and a landscape photography addict by passion, I first traveled to Iceland years ago in 2016 with my wife. It was our first international trip together and as for Iceland, we were instantly hooked. My wife and I found ourselves returning in the winter of 2019 for a road trip around the entire Ring Road, Iceland’s famous highway that loops around the country. It was our second visit to our favorite country – and even as we embarked on this journey, we already knew it wouldn’t be our last. In fact, we’re already plotting a third trip for 2026, this time in a rugged 4x4 camper van so we can venture off the beaten path into Iceland’s highland interior. The country’s mix of dramatic landscapes, from glaciers to volcanoes, and the promise of dancing northern lights keeps drawing us back.

Traveling Iceland in winter is a totally different experience than in the summer. The landscape transforms into a snowy wonderland, and popular sites become quieter and more intimate. Daylight is fleeting – in December and January, Iceland only gets about 4–5 hours of daylight each day, with the sun rising around 11 AM and setting by 3 or 4 PM. This means our sightseeing each day was a race against the clock. On the flip side, the long nights were a gift for aurora chasers like us. We happily traded long days for dark skies, because darkness brings out the northern lights.

We picked up a little rental camper van in Reykjavík, armed with my trusty Nikon D810 DSLR and my three lenses that covered everything from wide-angle vistas to telephoto close-ups. With our gear loaded and warm layers on, we set off counter clockwise around the Ring Road. This was a true adventure: just the two of us, an open road encircling Iceland, short winter days for sightseeing, and long nights for chasing auroras. We were equal parts nervous and excited – driving conditions can be challenging in winter, but the reward of having many famous spots to ourselves was worth it.

Life on the Ring Road: Snow, Ice, and Solitude

Driving the full Ring Road in winter felt like starring in our own epic road movie. By day, we navigated through snow-coated landscapes, often the only vehicle in sight. The Ring Road (Route 1) took us past steaming geothermal fields, across barren lava plains, and over mountain passes dusted with fresh snow. We quickly learned to be flexible with our plans – winter weather in Iceland can be moody. Some mornings we woke to find our van blanketed in snow, or a howling wind rocking it side to side. But as a couple who thrives on adventure, we embraced it.

Despite the cold and the occasional white-knuckle driving on icy roads, there were advantages to winter travel. Popular waterfalls and beaches that are swarmed in summer were nearly empty. At times, it felt like we had Iceland all to ourselves. We’d pull up to a waterfall like majestic Skógafoss and find only one or two other souls there – or often no one at all. The solitude added a special magic to each location. The low sun, when it did rise, cast a continuous golden glow, making every photo look like we had hours of “golden hour” light. Even the midday sun hung low on the horizon, creating soft, diffused lighting that’s a dream for photography.

Of course, the brevity of daylight meant we had to plan our sightseeing efficiently. We typically set out before dawn (which wasn’t hard – dawn was around 10 or 11 AM!), saw a few key sights during the short window of light, and then accepted that by late afternoon it would be pitch dark. But that’s when the second part of our daily routine kicked in – the nightly aurora hunt.

Chasing the Northern Lights Each Night

Every single night of our trip, no matter how tired we were, we went out aurora hunting. If the sky was clear (or even if there were gaps in the clouds), we were on the lookout for the northern lights. We became a well-practiced team: I drove our van to dark, open areas away from any town lights, and Rachael – who developed an uncanny talent for spotting the aurora – would scan the sky. Often she’d say, “I think that might be something...,” pointing out a faint grayish smear in the starry sky. At first, to the naked eye, you’re not sure if it’s a thin cloud or the beginning of the aurora. That’s where the camera came in. We learned a neat trick from our first trip: cameras can detect the aurora’s light before the human eye can. A very faint aurora might look like a colorless haze to us, but a long-exposure photo will reveal its true green glow.

We put this technique to use every night. Whenever Rachael had a hunch, I’d quickly set up the tripod and take a test photo of the sky with a long exposure. More often than not, the back of our camera would light up with telltale green streaks – proof that the aurora was indeed there, even if we couldn’t see it clearly yet. It was like having an aurora radar system. Rachael became known as “Aurora Eyes” in our little two-person team, because her instincts about where the lights would appear were usually spot-on. I learned to trust her exclamations of “Jonathan! There it is! Point the camera over there!”

We got into a routine: cook a simple dinner in the camper van as the sky grew dark, then geared up for the hunt. Some nights the auroras eluded us entirely – we’d peer at cloudy skies and see nothing, eventually crawling back into our van to sleep. But on many nights we struck gold (or rather, green). The camera’s sensor can gather light over several seconds, unveiling magnificent green and sometimes even purple tones that your eyes might miss in real time. It never got old to hear Rachael gasp as she looked at the camera screen and saw faint auroras revealed, knowing we’d be there ready when they intensified.

Midnight Hike to a Ghostly Plane Wreck

One of our most thrilling (and slightly crazy) adventures was a midnight hike to the famous DC-3 plane wreck at Sólheimasandur. This abandoned U.S. Navy airplane has sat lonely on a black sand plain since it crash-landed in the 1970s. It’s a popular spot by day, but we had far more ambitious plans: we wanted to photograph the northern lights dancing above the wreckage. So one clear, bitterly cold night, we set off to make it happen.

Reaching the plane wreck is no easy feat in daylight, let alone at night. Visitors are no longer allowed to drive up to it, so we had to hike about 45 minutes each way in the dark across an open sand and gravel plain. The only light came from our headlamps and the dazzling canopy of stars overhead. The Arctic wind on that January night was unforgiving – around 40 °F. We were bundled up like mountain men (with the full camera gear), trudging through patches of snow on black volcanic sand. With each step, the excitement grew. We kept glancing upward checking for aurora activity and, at the same time, straining our eyes for any silhouette of the downed plane out on the horizon. It’s surreal how isolated you feel out there; the North Atlantic Ocean’s waves were faintly audible in the distance, and the world felt otherwise completely still.

At last, the ghostly shape of the wrecked Douglas DC-3 emerged from the darkness. Even after years of laying there, the aircraft’s fuselage still gleamed silver when our flashlights hit it. We set up our camera and tripod a few yards away, composing a shot with the plane wreck in the foreground. Above us, the stars twinkled... and then we saw it: a faint green band low on the northern horizon. The aurora was starting to show itself. Heart pounding, I dialed in my camera settings – wide-angle lens to capture the whole sky, focus set to the stars, manual mode with a 10-second exposure and high ISO – and clicked the shutter. As you see in the photo below, you can make out the color and details on the plane. This was more intricate than it may look, as the plane was coming out completely black on the first few images I shot. So, I had to adjust. As I was taking the picture, Rachael was using our wide angle flashlight to illuminate the plane. The resulting photo on our screen made us both cheer: the plane wreck was perfectly visible, and above it a soft veil of emerald aurora borealis was glowing. We spent the next hour in the middle of the night, all alone with that abandoned plane, shooting photo after photo as the northern lights steadily intensified overhead. At one point, the aurora burst into a shimmering display directly above us, curtains of green waving as if on cue.

That night felt like pure magic – a combination of adventure, luck, and persistence. By the time we hiked back to our van in the wee hours of the morning, our toes were numb and our camera’s memory cards were full. It was absolutely worth it. The image of the glowing aurora above that eerie plane wreck became one of the most iconic shots of our trip. Experiences like that require effort (and a bit of a wild streak), but they reward you with memories you’ll tell for a lifetime.

Sunset Magic at Reynisfjara Black Sand Beach

Not all of our favorite moments were in the dark. One of the most breathtaking experiences came at the end of a daylight shoot – in fact, at sunset on Reynisfjara, the famous black sand beach near the village of Vík. Reynisfjara is known for its jet-black volcanic sand, roaring Atlantic waves, and the towering Reynisdrangar sea stacks jutting out of the ocean. It’s also infamous for being crowded with tourists and for its dangerous sneaker waves. But on this winter evening, luck was on our side. We arrived at Reynisfjara as the late afternoon sun was nearing the horizon, and to our surprise, we were completely alone on the beach. The tour buses were long gone, and the only company we had were a few curious seabirds and the crashing waves.

The scene that unfolded was unforgettable. The low winter sun broke through the cloudy sky just before setting, drenching the coastline in a golden-pink light. The basalt cliffs behind us glowed, and the sea stacks ahead were silhouetted against an orange and purple streaked sky. The black sand at our feet shimmered as gentle waves lapped in and out. Rachael and I stood there in awe, hand-in-hand at one point, just absorbing the moment. Then the photographer in me kicked in – I knew this light was something special. I hurried to set up the camera, switching to a mid-range zoom lens to capture the composition of the beach, the sea stacks, and the painted sky.

With no one else around, I didn’t have to worry about footprints in the sand or people in my shots. I framed up an image of the Reynisdrangar sea stacks illuminated by the sunset. As I clicked the shutter, a wave rushed up the shore, creating a mirror-like reflection on the wet sand that made the shot even more dramatic. The photo that resulted from that moment became my favorite picture of the entire trip – maybe even one of my favorite photographs I’ve ever taken. It captures the serene beauty of Iceland and the profound sense of peace we felt watching that sunset together.

When the sun finally dipped below the horizon around 4 PM, the sky faded to a deep red then purple. We lingered on the beach until twilight gave way to darkness, reluctant to leave. In the back of my mind, I was smiling at the thought that earlier in the day we had been battling a blizzard or shivering in the cold, and now we were gifted this perfect sunset. This contrast is what makes Iceland incredible. Moments like our private Reynisfjara sunset are why we love traveling in the off-season – sometimes, the world gives you a beautiful scene all to yourself.

Glacial Lagoons and Diamond Beach

The next leg of our journey led us further east along the Ring Road, into the realm of glaciers. By the time we reached the Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon, daylight was again in short supply, but the sights were incredible. Jökulsárlón is a large glacial lake at the foot of Vatnajökull (Europe’s largest ice cap), where icebergs that calve off a glacier float serenely in icy blue waters. We arrived in late morning, under a moody sky, and the lagoon was filled with ice of all shapes and sizes – some pieces as clear as glass, others striped with volcanic ash, all drifting slowly towards the sea. The scale of the icebergs and the mirror-like water rendered us speechless.

Just across the road from the lagoon is Diamond Beach, where those icebergs wash up on the black sand shore after floating out to sea. This beach is like something from another planet: you step onto coal-black sand that’s covered with glittering chunks of ice, ranging from tiny gems to boulders the size of a car. Each piece of ice catches the light and glows like a diamond against the dark backdrop – hence the name. We wandered among these ice sculptures in the waning daylight, snapping photos of the crystal-clear ice catching the soft sunset colors. The photographer in me was in heaven, composing shots of sapphire-blue ice with the Atlantic waves swirling around them. Even our “low-quality” drone got some use here – I flew it up briefly (careful to mind the wind) and it captured a bird’s-eye view of the ice-strewn beach, the white surf and black sand looking abstract and beautiful from above.

As the daylight faded entirely, we realized we had another opportunity: what if the northern lights came out over Diamond Beach? The idea of auroras glowing above icebergs on the beach was too good to pass up. We decided to stick around into the night, brewing some hot coffee on our camper stove to stay warm. That night, the aurora did grace us with a fantastic appearance. Under a clear, frigid sky, a gentle band of green light materialized to the north. The chunks of ice on Diamond Beach faintly reflected the green hue, making them look like glowing alien crystals. I set up a composition with a particularly large ice “diamond” in the foreground. The long exposure photo captured the iceberg, the ghostly green aurora above the horizon, and stars twinkling overhead. Standing on that beach in the darkness, with the ice shards glittering around us and the northern lights flickering, felt otherworldly. It was a perfect blend of two of Iceland’s treasures: ice and light.

Another gem of the southeast we visited is Vestrahorn, a stark mountain with jagged peaks that rise straight out of a flat black sand coastal plain. We arrived at Vestrahorn in the middle of the day, under a pastel winter sky. The mountain, sometimes nicknamed “Batman Mountain” for its shape, was dusted with snow and reflected in the pools of seawater on the beach. Though we didn’t catch auroras there, the dramatic scenery provided plenty of photographic inspiration. I used a wide-angle lens to capture Vestrahorn’s full expanse, including some foreground of the frozen grass-covered sand dunes that add texture to the scene. Even our drone, despite its technical limitations, managed to grab a dramatic flyover shot of me and Rachael standing tiny against the vast mountain backdrop. The footage was a bit grainy and shaky in the wind, but it still makes us smile – a memory of how small we felt next to Vestrahorn’s grandeur.

The Snæfellsnes Peninsula and Kirkjufell

As we neared the end of our Ring Road circuit, we made a detour for a side trip to the Snæfellsnes Peninsula in West Iceland. Snæfellsnes is often called “Iceland in Miniature” because it offers a little of everything – volcanoes, a glacier, black and white sand beaches, lava fields, charming fishing villages, and iconic mountains – all in a relatively small area. We couldn’t resist, especially since our first trip to Iceland had missed this region. In winter, Snæfellsnes was quiet and felt very remote. We drove through tiny towns that were half-asleep in the offseason and along coastlines where waves pounded against sea cliffs with raw power.

Our primary target here was Kirkjufell, the beautifully shaped conical mountain that many people recognize from photographs (and even from an appearance on Game of Thrones). Next to Kirkjufell is a small series of waterfalls called Kirkjufellsfoss. We arrived in the late afternoon as daylight was fading. Kirkjufell rose before us like a perfect pyramid, capped with snow. The waterfalls in the foreground were partially frozen but still flowing, creating a picturesque scene that looked like a fantasy painting. I climbed a short path to get the classic vantage point: the waterfalls in the foreground, and Kirkjufell mountain standing tall in the back.

As twilight settled in, the sky decided to bless us on our last night outside. A few stars popped out, and then, as if on cue, the aurora borealis made one more appearance – right over Kirkjufell. We were awe-struck. I hurried to set up the camera for a longer exposure while Rachael literally jumped for joy at the sight of green wisps forming above the mountain. The photograph I captured shows Kirkjufell and Kirkjufellsfoss under a midnight green sky, a ribbon of aurora seeming to emanate from the mountain’s peak. As cards drove by, the light from the car over exposed my shot. So as I always do, I didn't get upset or frustrated, I adapted and pivoted. I wasn't leaving their without my shot! I then thought "I could use those cars driving by to be extra creative..." So, I made the move. I moved to a new location to eliminate any headlight flashings and now had the tail lights in frame. Deployed the tripod, checked my settings and got excited for the next car to drive by to give my foreground some flare. Viola! As you see, the tail lights from the car driving by gave the shot a unique red ribbon to compliment the green ribbons in the background. I was honestly hoping for a bit more flare or character, but it is still one of my favorites. After I finished up my last few photos, I took a moment to put the camera down, embrace my wife and enjoy what is truly one of the worlds greatest phenomenons. At that moment, it felt like the aurora was putting on a private farewell show just for us and this beloved mountain.

Driving back to Reykjavík from Snæfellsnes, we reflected on what an incredible journey it had been. In just over a week, we had driven the entirety of Iceland’s Ring Road – roughly 1,300 kilometers – in the heart of winter. We navigated through snowstorms, over icy roads, and under countless stars. We saw frozen waterfalls, fire-red sunsets, black beaches strewn with ice, and emerald green auroras. We encountered friendly locals in gas stations and cozy cafes, and plenty of adorable Icelandic horses along the roadside (Rachael insisted on stopping to pet a few!). Our little camper van truly became our home on wheels. It might not have had a shower or a toilet, but it gave us the freedom to wake up to a new stunning view each day and to chase the northern lights whenever the conditions were right.

Aurora Photography Made Simple (What I Learned)

One of our goals for this trip was not only to see the northern lights more successfully than our first visit, but also to photograph them better. I am a hobbyist photographer, not a pro, but over time we’ve learned a lot through trial and error. For readers curious about how to capture the aurora (without diving too deep into technical jargon), here are a few simple tips we picked up:

• Use a Tripod and Manual Settings: Aurora photography requires long exposures (typically anywhere from 5 to 20 seconds), so a sturdy tripod is a must to keep your camera steady (consider counter weights for windy settings). Switch your camera to manual mode so you can control the settings.

  
  

• Wide and Fast Lens: Use your widest lens (I recommend a [14–24mm] wide-angle) and the widest aperture (low f-number like f/2.8 if possible). This lets as much light in as you can, which is crucial in the dark.

  
  

• High ISO, Short Exposure: Don’t be afraid to raise your ISO (1600, 3200, or even higher) so you can shorten your shutter speed. A 5-10 second exposure can capture bright auroras without too much motion blur. (If you expose for too long, the aurora’s shape may smear and stars will start to trail.)

  
  

• Focus to Infinity: Autofocus won’t work in the dark, so manually focus your lens to infinity (or use live view on a bright star or distant light to nail focus). A sharp starscape with the aurora is so much more satisfying than a blurry one!

  
  

• Be Patient and Take Test Shots: As we described, the human eye can struggle to see faint auroras, but the camera can reveal them. Take a test shot of the northern sky every so often – you might catch the first hint of activity on camera. Once you know something is happening, you’ll be more prepared to photograph it when it strengthens.

  
  

• Bring Spare Batteries and Dress Warm: Long exposures in cold weather will drain your camera batteries faster than usual. Keep spares warm in an inner pocket. And don’t forget to bundle up yourself – operating a camera with numb fingers is no fun (I learned that the hard way on that plane wreck hike!).

  
  

Reflections and Future Plans

As we finished our 2019 winter Ring Road adventure, Rachael and I couldn’t stop talking about everything we’d seen and learned. This trip was the perfect blend of my professional life and my passion – the planner and problem-solver in me (the attorney side!) appreciated the logistics and safety aspects we navigated, while the artist in me was overjoyed at the photographic opportunities. And sharing it all with my wife made it truly special; travel has a way of bonding you through the challenges (like digging our van out of snow) and the joys (like cheering together under the northern lights).

Above all, we learned that practice and persistence pay off. On our first trip to Iceland, we were total novices at aurora hunting – we missed good opportunities because we didn’t know how to interpret the aurora forecasts, or we gave up when it got too cloudy early in the night. This time, armed with more knowledge, we checked cloud cover maps, paid attention to solar activity forecasts, and we never assumed an evening was a bust until we were crawling into bed. Many nights, conditions changed rapidly – a cloudy sky at 9 PM might clear up by midnight, and suddenly the aurora would appear. By sticking it out (and drinking a lot of coffee to stay awake!), we dramatically increased our chances of catching the northern lights.

It’s often said that Iceland has a piece of everyone’s heart who visits, and we feel that deeply. There’s a reason we call it our favorite country. The landscapes have a raw, unearthly beauty that awakens your sense of adventure. The winter conditions taught us to slow down and respect nature’s timetable – you can’t rush a sunrise that comes at 11 AM, and you can’t force the aurora to appear on cue. But when you put in the time and patience, Iceland rewards you with moments of pure awe.

Now, looking ahead, we are beyond excited for our next chapter: in 2026, we plan to return for Iceland Round 3, this time with a 4x4 camper van. Our dream is to venture off the main Ring Road and explore Iceland’s more remote corners – the rugged F-roads into the Highlands, the volcanic craters and hidden waterfalls that require a tough vehicle and a spirit of exploration. We want to wake up next to places like Landmannalaugar’s rainbow mountains or the far reaches of the Westfjords.

As I write this and reminisce, I can’t help but scroll through the photo library from our 2019 trip. Each picture – whether it’s the green aurora above an abandoned plane, a purple sunset on a black sand beach, or a selfie of two happy but freezing travelers bundled up in front of a waterfall – tells a story that brings me right back to that moment. These are the stories we’ll be telling for years.

If you’re considering a winter road trip in Iceland, our advice is: go for it. Prepare well, respect the weather, but don’t be afraid of the dark or the cold. There’s a special kind of tranquility and adventure in the Icelandic winter that you won’t find anywhere else. You might just find yourself, like us, utterly captivated and already planning your return before you’ve even left.

Iceland in winter taught us how to find light in the darkness – quite literally with our nightly aurora hunts, but also metaphorically. Those short days felt extremely precious, and those long nights brought wonder and inspiration. We came back from the Ring Road not only with hard drives full of photos and heads full of stories, but with a refreshed spirit. And above all, it strengthened our belief that wanderlust and passion can fit into any life, even one spent in courtrooms by day. Sometimes you just have to pack your camera, grab the person you love, and set off into the adventure, chasing the light wherever it leads you. Iceland, takk fyrir (thank you) – we’ll see you again soon.