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Uhro Kekkonen National Park
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Introduction
Finland currently has thirty national parks, ranging
from four (Rokua
national park, between Oulu and Kajaani) to 2.855 square kilometres
(Lemmenjoki
national park, south-west of Inari).
The Uhro
Kekkonen national park ranges 2.500
square kilometres and was established in 1983. It is Finland’s second
largest and covers an area from Raututunturit-Saariselkä in the
northwest to
the large forested areas of Savukoski and Nuorttijoki in the southeast.
The northern part consist of a barren wilderness area of
fells, ravines and
steep slopes, with comparatively few plant species and plenty of
treeless
tundra. Forest wilderness with isolated fells, Scots pine stands,
spruce forests
blanketed with moss and extensive open bog areas make up the southern
part of
the park.
The park shows evidence of human habitation in the form
of pit traps for wild
reindeer, round-up fences for domesticated reindeer, cabins and
restored Sami
settlements. Reindeer herding is nowadays the most important occupation
in the
park and will remain its special status here.
On arrival at Kiilopää, we hurried for the
visitor’s centre. The
initial cold had urged Merja to add a few layers of clothing. This
centre is
rather expensive in its food and supplies, good thing that we had not
forgotten
anything!
We decided to take a last cup of tea and a sandwich
before setting off into
the cold wilderness towards our first goal, Rautulampi. There are two
routes to
this cabin, an ‘eastern’ and a ‘southern’ one, either
way is twelve kilometres. Since we had arrived rather late (17.10) we
agreed on
taking the southern route, because this would pass along a reindeer
round-up
camp where we might be able to stay overnight, after just four
kilometres of
hiking. The eastern route does not offer any shelter until one reaches
Rautulampi itself after twelve kilometres.
Just outside the visitor’s centre is a scale where eager
hikers can
weigh their equipment. My backpack weighed seventeen and a half kilos
on the
spot. Merja’s was estimated at seven kilos. For a while we toyed with
the
idea of staying at the Sami style cabin some thirty metres from the
visitor’s centre. Although the smouldering fire and the reindeer skins
were inviting we headed for the trail and were on our way.
The road looked too broad for a hiking trail, in my
opinion anyway. If the
road was going to be like this for the days to come, I just might loose
interest
in the whole trip.
Autumn colours and scattered fungi on both sides of the
road took that
feeling away soon enough though. To our left we could see lichen and
other small
vegetation, including various edible berries like lingon- and
blueberry,
creeping up the slopes of Kiilopää hill (546 m) until growth
was no longer
possible due to height. The right side showed trees in the distance,
but these
were clouded in mist.
After about thirty minutes, a sign made it clear that we
had walked two
kilometres so far. Thus, we were doing four kilometres per hour. Not so
bad,
considering that we were on a leisure trip, rather than focused on
breaking
speed records.
Although speed and time were unknown factors to us, I
anxiously looked around
for the reindeer round-up camp after an hour of walking. I had taken a
watch
with me so that we would not miss the bus from Raja-Jooseppi to Ivalo,
which
only goes once a weekday. Foolishly, I was wearing it on my wrist.
Nevertheless,
the camp was an hours walk from where we started. One could simply pass
it and
not notice it because it appeared to have been burned down some time
ago. Behind
the surviving fences to the right I saw a small cabin and figured that
this
might be the place where we could stay overnight.
By this time Merja was maybe as much as five hundred
metres behind me and I
knew for a fact that she had not seen me leave the road for the cabin,
so I had
to be sure to go back for her in time. As I came closer to the cabin I
could see
a glow of light through the window and assumed others to be there as
well. Once
I had entered, I noticed two rooms. From the one right in front of me,
I heard
the unwelcome notification that that room was full. So much for
hospitality and
friendship towards your fellow tired hiker! The room to the left had a
more
inviting atmosphere with two elderly Finns and some foreign students.
After the
initial ‘hellos’ I placed my backpack on the floor, drank some fresh
water, and went out to find Merja.
Merja was greeted with the same ‘welcome’ from the first
room,
which she had tiredly entered, but the cosy, warm second room made her
warm up
as well.
All the bunks were occupied so we would have to sleep on
the floor and could
only hope that our mattresses would be comfortable enough. Time was
closing in
on 19.30 and we were longing for something warm. Some tea and
fire-heated
sausages would do wonders. The cabin did not have any running water and
because
the bucket of fresh water was seemingly empty, there was no alternative
but to
walk four hundred metres to a creek and walk back again. The
temperature outside
had dropped to about 1 degree Celsius, without the wind-chill factor
taken into
consideration. Two hundred metres along the path I had visions of
hikers being
pursued by brown bears and I had left my hunting-knife at the cabin, so
I was
quite defenceless in case of an encounter of any kind. Not that it
would have
helped much anyway!
It was not clear in which direction I had to go. There
was water to my left,
but I had not walked four hundred metres yet. I tried my luck and found
running
water. However, the stream was not deep enough for the bucket to fill
with
clear, fresh water. There was however, an old enclosed fireplace. Dry
inside and
wood available for a nice warming fire. If we could not stay at the
cabin, we
could always go here. I continued my way and found a deeper place to
take water.
On my return to the cabin, Merja had some sausages ready and I gorged
on them as
she prepared tea.
As I walked back I had seen a couple pitching a tent
outside the cabin, so I
told Merja about this, and we decided to quickly lay out our mattresses
before
someone else might fill up the room. The only place left for us,
without risking
being trembled over by anyone during the night, was halfway under the
only
table. We placed our mattresses and sleeping bags in a V-formation and
prepared
ourselves for an early retirement. People seem to start sleeping rather
early in
these cabins. Maybe due to tiredness, but most likely because of lack
of light.
Merja tried in vain to read some magazine by the fading light of the
burning
wood in the open fireplace. Soft snoring sounds made me drift off
towards sleep
in no time.
Just before midnight, Merja woke me up. The howling wind
and gushing rain had
kept her from going to the toilet, some 50 metres from the cabin, but
now she
could not fence the calls of nature off any further. The darkness,
wind, rain,
and possible abduction by alien life forms could not be concurred by my
mini-flashlight alone. I had to come along. In my state of half-sleep I
told her
to go alone or piss just outside the cabin. She finally hung herself
halfway out
of the front door and got the job done.
Saturday 12th of September 1998:
Rautulampi
Consequently to an early sleep is an early rise. Most
people leave these
cabins between 08.00 and 09.00 in the early morning. It had been a long
while
since we had risen so early, but the smell of porridge and tea could
not keep us
asleep much longer.
The weather had been quite bad during the night but by
now, it had stopped
raining and the wind had dropped as well. The temperature however was a
mere 4
degrees Celsius. As I stood outside enjoying the fresh morning cold,
one of the
shivering foreign students started to chat with me. They were a group
of nine
who had just recently arrived in Helsinki on an Erasmus
student-exchange
program. Due to some schedule problems they had some extra time on
their hands
and used it for a hiking trip. If I remember correctly they were 2
Italians, 2
Spaniards, 2 French, 1 Portuguese, 1 German, and 1 Taiwanese. They had
been
hiking for four days now and were leaving for Helsinki later today. In
my
opinion they were rather poorly prepared and perhaps run out of food,
since they
hardly ate and shared one big cup of tea among three or four of them.
Merja missed her morning porridge and –naturally–
complained
about it. The couple in the tent was on the end of their trip and
gladly donated
the last of their porridge to Merja, so that she would have some for
the days to
come.
By 09.15 all had left and Merja and I had time to
explore the cabin. She
found some leftover macaroni and bouillon-blocks and thought it a good
idea to
take some of it along. Although she had complained the night before
that
"this is the first and the last time" she would sleep in a cabin, she
apparently wanted to continue.
Our next goal was a cabin named ‘Rautulampi’ on the
northern
shore of a lake with the same name. This would be an approximate 8
kilometres
hike, but I had seen a shorter way in a straight line across the hills.
That
would be our road for the day.
This shorter road was not difficult to find. We had
merely walked 500 metres
as I noticed the road going up the hill to the left of us. Small forms
of
vegetation grew along the slopes, but the line of rocks distinguished
the road
from its surroundings. Weak sporting shoes were of no use here. It
pleased me to
know that we had bought Merja sturdy hiking shoes not so long before.
She might
have preferred the softer and lighter sporting shoes on some of the
roads, but
not on this one. Balancing my way up I neared the summit, or so I
thought. Sure,
I had checked the map but after thinking to see the top, another one
revealed
itself. We were not even halfway! According to the map we should pass
and cross
a small stream. I never found it. A dried-out bedding was probably what
the map
had indicated as such.
Two different people, two different speeds. I was a few
hundred metres ahead
of Merja and looked behind me occasionally to see if she was still on
the path
and ok. Sometimes I had to wait long enough until I saw her figure
emerge on the
last top behind me. Of course, she was able to follow the path, but it
is a good
idea to look back once in a while and see if she had not hurt herself
or
something.
A group of three people came in sight in front of me.
Ah, we had to be on the
right track, or at least on one others use as well. Two of them left
the path to
the right, left for me, presumably on their way to Kiilopää.
The third one
followed the path. He was a middle-aged man, Finn obvious by his
outfit, who
greeted me on the fly-by. After this encounter, I had finally passed
the final
top and it was downhill all the way. In front of me to the right, I
could see
what would be the southern part of the lake Rautulampi. On the hill to
my right,
I could see the original road, the one we would have taken had we not
opted for
the shortcut. After the rocks, the sight of trees was a welcome change.
It
looked a lot warmer than the cold, windy and barren tops we had just
past.
Merja was quite far behind me, so I waited until I could
see her before
pushing on. The shortcut road ended upon the popular day-trippers trail
between
the Rautulampi and Luulampi cabins. I had to cross a running stream
though, but
that was no great effort. I could not see Merja and since I had our
only map
with me, I left a sign for her so that she would understand to follow
the path
to the right. This of course was not necessary, but one cannot be
careful
enough.
Smoke was rising from the cabin’s chimney, a tent stood
to its right on
the banks of the lake, so it was inhabited or at least being used. I
was the
only one inside, but the tent-dwellers came in soon enough to prepare
their
meal. Figuring that Merja might be quite hungry, a nice meal of
macaroni and
cheese would do just fine, and I had it ready by the time she came in.
After our meal, we rested a while and Merja actually
laid out her sleeping
bag in order to get some ‘shut-eye’. The cabin was quiet and
desolate and I lost myself in James. A. Michener’s "The
Covenant". After a while however others disturbed us, some older people
who
had hiked from ‘Lankojärvi’, a good 7-km to the east. Where I had
planned on staying overnight. By the time Merja woke up and was
addressable
again, she wanted more coffee and maybe some more bread. Now Merja is a
chatter
and started to talk to anyone who just happened to be around. At this
time, they
were just two independent hikers who had appeared during her nap: a
rather
overweight girl and a young man who seemed to have carried all his
worldly
possessions along on his back. This was the first time we encountered
him. While
he was preparing his food, with the help of all kinds of kitchen
utensils that
nobody would even think of of carrying along, Merja learned that he had
started
in Raja-Jooseppi, our final destination, or so I still hoped. According
to him,
all the cabins along the route were rather over-crowded. This was the
second
time –since last night– that Merja was discouraged in continuing.
Up until now I had simply continued reading and agreed
to everything that was
said, but now the young man started to eat. He had the ability to
breathe, eat,
and swallow at the same time! The sounds he made during his lunch were
so
disgusting that it genuinely takes away one’s appetite. Everyone
present
seemed to look the other way as if preoccupied with something else and
not
hearing this person enjoying his meal.
The cabin itself was very basic: a gas stove, a
fireplace and some hard bunks
with one on a higher level and a big table in the middle. The fact that
there
was a wilderness telephone, only to be used in case of an emergency,
made it
modern in a way. Traditional with these places is the outside toilet: a
wooden
shed with a hole in the middle of a plateau and – traditionally– no
toilet paper (we always bring our own). Situated at the shore of a
small lake
and a fast running stream to the north, fresh water in abundance.
The weather was so inviting to go out that I could not
resist it any longer;
I had to take a hike.
When I arrived I
saw a hill to the north of the lake and wanted to climb it from that
moment on.
Merja had definitely decided to stay overnight at this cabin, so I told
her I
would just go out for a little hike up that hill.
I ascended the hill as the soft vegetation gave way
under my weight. Moss,
various lichen and numerous edible berries were at my feet and I bent
down at
regular intervals to pick some. At some parts, the route I made was
steep enough
to pick berries by simply stretching my arms out in front of me.
Foolishly, I had forgotten the lesson I had leaned
earlier this day about the
top of hills being further away than the eye can see from the bottom.
The same
thing happened here as well. After I had left the vegetable parts
behind me and
thought that I had reached the top, another slope revealed itself to
me. This
one was dry, outstretched, and carpeted towards a few ‘tops’ in
three different directions. I choose the highest as my next waypoint.
As I reached the next top, I had a magnificent view of
the valleys and other
tops around me. Are not such views always ‘magnificent’?
‘Why?’ I asked myself. Perhaps because of the fact that one has to
go far out of one’s normal way in order to get there and view them? Or
is
it because it takes a hell of a lot of effort to reach them, like
climbing all
the way up without the general direction of a path?
To my right was a pool filled with water, probably
leftover snow. On closer
examination, the pool became the hollow top of a large rock. Who knows
how many
times it has been filled with water, melted snow? Perhaps a thousand
times
perhaps tens of thousands of times. I guess a lot anyway. I took my cup
from my
jacket-pocket and filled it with the clear fresh snow-water. It was
bitterly
cold, but pleasantly refreshing.
From the boulder on which I sat enjoying the water and
the view, I could see
a cabin on the slopes of another hilltop rising to the right of me. I
wished to
go there and explore. It did not seem to be along a regular route or
so, maybe
it was deserted. Man, I would want to stay overnight there then.
As I neared the end of the small plateau I was on I saw
that in order to
reach the cabin I would have to climb down from where I was standing,
cross a
valley and climb the next mountain up towards the cabin. No doubt in my
mind
that I could have made it, but I had already been gone for quite some
time now.
I decided to keep the view of the cabin as an image to treasure and
nothing more
than that.
From my viewpoint, I could see a small river, or at
least its bedding, run
through the valley in the general direction I would follow back to the
cabin
where Merja was waiting for me. I climbed down towards it and realised
that it
was indeed more bedding than a river. Water ran through the bedding,
cold and
drinkable, but it was nothing more than just a small stream. I followed
it in
the direction I thought I had to go. Walking through the bedding took
away all
points of orientation and so I had to rely on intuition. I had never
been here
before, so there was no road, tree, or bush to recognise. From the
mountaintop,
I could see the mountains surrounding the cabin, but now I could not
see any of
these. I continued anyway, I could always backtrack my route if that
became
necessary.
The river seemed to end in a pool and so it forced me to
climb through bushes
and slightly uphill to my right. Not that I had found a track or
something
there, but I continued onwards. From my higher viewpoint, I saw that I
was, or
should be, in a second valley and according to me; this was the one
leading to
the Rautulampi-lake and thus back to the cabin. A fast-gushing stream
was
flowing in the direction I had placed the lake. A muddy track ran
alongside it
and I decided to follow it. I still had not spotted the cabin though!
At one
point I had to cross the stream and in order not to get my hiking-shoes
soaking
wet –I could have taken them off and waded through– I balanced my
way over several rocks just below the surface and a partly overhanging
trunk. I
made it to the other side dry, but the risk of falling in the stream
was worth
the kick. On this side the track continued and it was not until I was
as close
as fifty metres that I saw the cabin again. I guess my intuition and
orientation-techniques were quite accurate after all!
As night fell the other trekkers from the gathered tents
outside began to
drop in to make their dinners. A group of four elderly Fins from the
Raahe area
were quite talkative and were very proud of their laavu-like tent. It
was
nothing more than a lean-to-shelter with aluminium poles and extremely
lightweight. However, since it was custom designed and made, I supposed
rather
expensive as well.
I could not help overhearing a young couple quietly
speaking in Flemish and
when they asked if anyone could speak English I replied in Flemish that
that was
indeed the case. After the preliminary chitchat, they told me that this
was
their first night out in the wilderness, which I had already concluded.
The
question "Can anyone use this gas-stove?," was a dead give-away. They
had forgotten to take fuel for their MSR-stove along with them. I
offered them
some of my lamp oil –our stoves could use the same fuel–, but they
feared that they would run out of it along the trip, so they planned on
walking
back to Kiilopää tomorrow and try to get a sufficient supply
of fuel;
amateurs.
By now Merja had steadfastly set her mind on no longer
walking to
Raja-Jooseppi. Luulampi as the next cabin was a better choice according
to her
and closer by. We would see in the morning. Merja had laid her mattress
on the
higher bunk and mine was right underneath. After the candles had died
out and
their mysterious glows were now longer visible, the pitch-darkness
brought swift
sleep to the cabin and its surroundings.
Sunday 13th of September 1998:
Taajostupa
What I hate most about these cabins is the lack of
privacy. Before you wake
up someone might come in and start making their breakfast while you
still have
to get in your clothes! But then again, how do they like it to start
eating in
other people’s morning-smells?
Merja took her time –as usual– and by the time we were ready to
leave and had finally decided on our route, fresh day-trippers were
already
coming in. We set out along the route backtracking part of what we had
walked
the day before. As I mentioned before there is a popular route between
the
Luulampi and Rautulampi cabins, we simply followed it towards Luulampi
and from
there we would see where to go on. According to my guidebook, this
Luulampi
cabin is a popular one and by no means did I plan to stay overnight
there.
Halfway along the route was a fireplace; at least that is what the map
indicated. However, by the time we came to it, we both agreed that
‘fireplace’ was rather an overstatement. After about two more
kilometres, the valley through which we were walking spread its rich
blanket of
fresh berries out in front of us. While I waited for Merja, I collected
some of
them and had a nice freshly picked supply ready for her by the time she
caught
up.
A fast running river was our next obstacle. It would not
be much of an
obstacle, were it not for the bad state of its bridge across. I had to
steady
myself in the water with my hiking-poles. After this, we came upon a
car-road
from Kiilopää to Luulampi. Not that there are cars allowed in
this area, but I
guess that the forestry organisation uses it for maintenance purposes.
The last
few metres to the cabin gave us our first glance of reindeer husbandry,
we had
to go through a fence in order to get there. The fences keep the
reindeer inside
their own zone, so that they do not go wandering about everywhere. I
guess that
the reindeer herders trust the tourists enough to close the fences
after their
passing. Or maybe not, because this one was made out of a few hanging
pieces of
plastic so that those who pass do not have to do anything to the fence.
The
others that we went through later were gates made out of long poles of
birch
wood that had to be replaced after passing through. We always placed
them back
and never found an open gate. The reindeer herders must trust the
serious hikers
then.
The Luulampi cabin was all that the guidebook said it
would be, busy, noisy,
big and full of day-trippers. The toilet was overfull and reeked of
previous
usage, somehow all the day-trippers wanted to have their own log-fires
going and
so there were no free places anymore. We used the fireplace inside the
largest
of the cabins –the main one– and ate some sausages. We definitely
did not want to stay here any longer than was needed for a short rest.
Our next
destination would be the Taajostupa, some four kilometres to the east.
The road from Luulampi to Taajostupa was of the kind I like the most.
Steep
slopes with water gushing through the ravines. Small scarcely walk-able
paths,
where rocks and fallen trees constantly block your way.
The path wrinkled along over rocks and trees. Some of
which were rotten
enough to fall into the river beneath. According to the map, on both
boulders of
the river should be a path, but I never saw the one on the other side.
A group of three women came walking into my direction.
All said their
‘Terves’ and we all went our own ways again. Looking towards the
other side, I noticed a small cave about three metres above the surface
of the
river. I would not mind climbing down there and camp out. Meditating on
the
sounds of the river, no ‘Om’ necessary.
Ever since leaving Luulampi, one thing had been
bothering me from time to
time. Now it came over me again and I toyed with the idea of giving in.
But the
idea of dropping my pants, emptying my bowels and continuing did not
appeal to
me knowing that Merja and probably others as well were on the trail. I
would not
be able to relax. I did have a book with me though. I decided to keep
it all in
and savour the idea of relief until the Taajostupa cabin. It should not
be too
far away. Luckily I was right.
I saw the cabin evolve through the trees at a distance
of about fifty metres.
A big log cabin with various smaller buildings shattered around. My
bowels were
at ease now so that I did not immediately have to run to the toilet. I
entered
the cabin and had a nice log-fire going by the time Merja finally
stepped in.
A warm cosy smouldering fire from the fireplace gave the
cabin a heartily
atmosphere. No sounds other than from the birds outside and the running
river
penetrated the cabin. Since no-one but Merja was around I explored what
the
cabin had to offer. The gas-stove was in perfect working order and
there was a
generous supply of kitchen-utensils. We had our own though, but the
fact that
they were there for anyone to use made me feel at home. Fresh cold
water came
from the river, which we also used to wash ourselves in.
The thing I noticed though was that the cabin appeared
very dark. The windows
were small and the high trees surrounding it, did not give much way to
the rays
of the blasting sun. However, our moments of freedom did not last very
long. The
food-crunching young man had found his way here and intended on
spending the
night as well. Well, another few disgusting meals to look forward to!
While Merja was having a nap on the top-beds, I tried to
make conversation
with our new friend. Unfortunately he did not speak much English. In
the
guest-book a group of four Italians had noted that they had seen a wolf
close to
the cabin, just a few days before. I told him about this and he agreed
that it
could be possible. Good thing Merja was asleep; she would not have gone
outside
alone anymore! Just as we were discussing the possibility of a
wolf-encounter we
heard voices outside and the first thing we saw was a St. Bernhard with
its own
backpack. The dog was hiking with its owners and it carried its own
food on its
back. In the wilderness it is every man, and dog for himself.
Later in the evening we again heard voices, but these
were foreign and
finally we saw two tired and anxious looking men in full hiking gear
wearing
heavy backpacks. They entered and asked if they could stay the night as
well. Of
course! They took the second room, which doubled as a form of buffer
between the
main entrance and the room where Merja and I were. They had their own
stove in
that room as well and in no-time did they heat it up till sauna-like
temperatures.
As it became darker and darker, they came into our room
as well, to make
their dinner and have some coffee with the rest of us. They had started
on this
very day and had arrived by train in Rovaniemi from Helsinki somewhere
early
this morning, directly boarded a bus north and here they were. They
were still
at home in the Czech Republic just the day before. By the glowing light
of the
log-fire we told each other hiking-stories and exchanged information on
the
tracks. After smoking a cigar with one of them outside on the porch it
was time
to get a night’s rest.
Monday 14th of September 1998:
Kivipää
After a peaceful night we woke early. Sounds invaded our
room from the
adjoining Czechs’ room. Food-munching's snoring had stopped and coffee
was
boiling on the stove.
We had not really figured out where to go from here. I
wanted to go onwards
to a cabin called ‘Kivipää’, but Merja said that it would be
closed, since the map indicated it as a rental cabin during the winter.
Some
cabins are rented –i.e. closed– in wintertime, but open during the
summer months. After the muncher had convinced Merja that it would be
open, we
made our plan accordingly. The map showed no direct route from
Taajostupa to
Kivipää, so we would have to make our own –my way– until we
reached one that was indicated as such, somewhere far to the east. The
river we
were at now flowed in that direction, we had only to follow it to a
valley on
the north between two hills leading to the cabin. Even though Merja was
still
not too convinced about my abilities to find our way without a direct
road and
road-signs, we were soon ‘en route’.
The fast-flowing river next to Taajostupa we had to
cross and in doing so we
had our first negative experience of the day that would come and go in
the hours
that followed many times over: wet shoes.
Soft, wet moss beneath our feet, high trees all around
us. Everything was
fresh and green. Hilltops to our left and, across the river, to our
right. One
could easily get lost here; navigation was difficult again. The tall
trees made
it difficult to see which hilltop was which, but the river was a great
and
comforting help.
We saw evidence of wild –or domesticated– reindeer in
dropped
antlers. A nice small one stands proudly on top of my printer now. We
could have
taken more, but one was enough to add to our burden.
A swampy area, or at least a very wet area, made us
change our route towards
the north earlier than we had planned. We climbed through the
reindeer-fence and
in doing so tried to find our way to higher and presumably dryer ground.
Sounds in front of us made us aware that we were not
alone. Three reindeer
with rather light furs stood grazing at a distance of about fifty
metres. We
could hear their bells and breathing. But they ran of as soon as they
were aware
of our presence.
Even though we were advancing up to higher ground, the
forest-floor was far
from being dry. We were walking away from the river and so we became
increasingly aware of the sounds of the forest. Woodpeckers stood at
the top of
natures concert-hall, they dominated all.
Walking up this hill my mind wandered of towards lost
aeroplanes. Perhaps I
would hike upon some evidence of the Second World War. A plane had been
found in
eastern Finland not so long ago, with the pilot’s skeleton still inside.
Merja was not too far behind me as I stumbled upon the
top. It was time for a
little picnic. We still had some apples left and our water bottles were
filled
with fresh, cold river water. The refreshments were badly needed.
From the top I was able to see –at least I thought so–
the hills
surrounding the Kivipää-cabin. The map indicated a road
towards it on the
northern side of the hill to my right. If I could find the stream close
to it
–by simply crossing the valley between me and the hill– I could find
the road.
We started downhill towards the stream. After a short
while I found a nearby
dry river bedding. Thinking it to be the searched after stream we
crossed it,
only to stumble upon the real one which happened to be too wide to
cross and too
deep to wade through. We discussed this problem a little and decided to
follow
the river bedding. Next to the cabin was a lake; we figured the bedding
to flow
into that direction. We were quite right, but we were still not exactly
on dry
ground.
The bedding ended in a sort of swampy area –again–,
which we
crossed towards the eastern slope of the hill to our left by actually
following
a track. Small, but still a track, maybe just a reindeer track, but a
track
indeed towards dry ground. Our feet were soaked to the bone by now and
Merja had
already changed socks several times. As we followed the track and
entered the
thick forest to where it led we again had problems keeping our
bearings. Once in
a while I would wander of to the east and saw the hills and supposed
lakes that
were indicated on the map and was thus able to direct our direction
further. In
front of us was a small boulder from upon which I had our first glance
of the
lake next to the cabin. It was surrounded by thick forest and a misty
cloud made
it impossible to see the tops of the hills. Continuing further I hoped
for a
small track on the southern shore of the lake where we would be able to
cross
since we were still on the wrong side of the valley.
By now I could see the cabin and this made us both
anxious to get there, We
were quite wet and getting a little cold. There was no road –of course
not–, so we tried our luck through the swampy areas and streams. Tough
luck, no dry places there either, so we simply waded through and after
a few
bold steps we were finally on the other side and on dry land at last.
Smoke was rising through the chimney and a backpack was
hanging outside next
to the cabin, we would not be alone here either. One man was sitting
inside who
was rather surprised that we had found the cabin at all and rather
annoyed that
we had!
The cabin was a one-room affair with a small entrance. A
table and two
benches, a gas-stove and a wooden-stove for warmth, the bunks were as
wide as
the cabin –about 4 metres– and two above each other. About ten
people would be able to stay overnight here. Who cares if the
black-aura’d
guy was there, we had just as much right as him to be here, I hoped for
him that
a large group of –preferably– German or Italian tourists would show
up, just to irritate him!
The Germans or Italians never came; three Finnish women
joined us and luckily
changed the dark, negative atmosphere. After they had started making
their
dinner we did just the same, the peering eyes of Mr. Negative-attitude
no longer
kept us from doing so.
I enjoyed walking bare-foot around here, inside as well
as outside. I did the
dishes standing bare-foot in the –rather cold– lake. Splashing its
cold fresh water over my face was an exhilarating experience that I
repeated
many times over that and the following day.
After dinner Merja had a talk with the women about the
way they had come to
the cabin. They had come by the way we were to go tomorrow. Maps were
drawn, my
lamps batteries were drained, and compasses were consulted. We would
surely find
our way tomorrow.
Morning broke differently than usual; the sun was
missing. A great mist hung
over the lake and it was impossible to see the other side. Navigation
would be
very difficult indeed. It looked like perfect GPS-weather today;
unfortunately I
was without.
Mr. Dark-aura had left first, without a word of course.
The three women left
shortly after and as usual Merja and I were to leave last and have the
cabin to
ourselves for a while. I re-started the fire and we enjoyed an early
brunch
under its warmth. There was some leftover food in this cabin as well,
but we
left it for those who might need it, since we still had enough with us.
After I
had replaced the wood we had used for our morning-fire we were ready to
go as
well. One replaces the wood one uses; at least it is good practise. One
of the
most annoying things is to find no freshly cut dry wood when one
arrives cold
and tired in a cabin and have to take care of this immediately, because
some
selfish bastard deprived you off it.
According to the map we would have to climb a hill about
three kilometres to
the north, the so-called ‘Paskatunturi’ or ‘Shit-hill’
in clear English. Turn left at the top, between shit-hill and
‘Kivipää’
(stone-hill) and follow that direction until we found a river running
between
the slopes of two other hills and cross it, or something as simple as
that.
The road we had tried to find the previous day continued
behind the cabin to
the north, in our direction. It was a small track that followed the
slopes of
the hill to our right. The area we walked through was densely filled
with
vegetation on both sides. Berries in abundance again!
Gradually the track ended and no longer was there an
easy path to follow. The
way we continued was going up the slope in front of us, this had to be
the one
we had to climb and turn left on at the top. The vegetation grew more
scarcely
as I ascended. Merja was getting far behind now but I was confident
that she
would be able to see my orange coat and follow. As I neared the top I
saw
evidence of attacks by meat-eaters and munching by lazy scavengers.
This place
was scattered with animal-bones: reindeer (I found antlers here as
well) and
others, mainly smaller game. I saw spoor, but was not sure whether
wolf, lynx,
bear, or all had filled their tummies here. I thought that it would not
be a
good idea for Merja to see this. Then again the bones were
sun-bleached, so it
was not like this had happened yesterday and I was standing there being
watched.
She hardly noticed them when she finally arrived were I stood.
Here we stood high upon a hilltop without being sure in
which direction we
had to go. According to the map we had to go to the west, but since
there was so
much mist hanging around we were not sure if we had placed it
correctly. We
followed the compass to the west and traversed a wet area with hardly
more
vegetation than some near-dead trees and small bushes. Rocks were
everywhere
though! This area was like a plateau between two hilltops. According to
the map
this was where we should be. The river, or better: mountain-stream,
should be
somewhere in front of us, not too far away.
I thought I heard water running, we both tried to figure
out from which
direction it came. Convinced about the direction we walked towards a
lonely tree
that stood at the end of a cliff. Gazing over the edge we saw no water,
just wet
grasslands, and mist. Maybe we had only heard rain or perhaps our minds
were
playing tricks. Westwards again.
To our left we were nearing two hilltops, so it was
certainly possible that
our river would be running between them. We walked upon a cliff down
which
indeed the river was running. We had found it; now the only thing left
was to
cross it. This meant hiking down the slope, crossing the river
–actually
nothing more than a stream– and hike up the cliff on the other side.
This
was exactly what we did, but it involved some breath-taking balancing
on
slippery rocks. Once we had crossed –luckily without getting our feet
soaked–, we simply followed a little track up the other slope. The
other
side did not differ much from the plateau we had walked upon just
moments
earlier: barren rocks and mist.
The biggest problem was now to figure out where to go.
We had indeed crossed
the stream, but were still far from our next destination: the
‘Vellinsärpimä
päivätupa’, a day-cabin where we would probably be able to
stay
overnight. Continuing to the west we came upon a swampy area which
looked like
nothing we saw on the map. Crossing the swamp and climbing the hills
behind it,
did not appeal to us. Besides the rain was not exactly greeted with
enthusiasm.
We had to backtrack a little and find another way. We figured that we
would be
all right if we would follow another plateau and go down the slope of
another
hill, the one to the south of where we stood. We aimed at another
lonely tree in
front of us only to be forced to do the same again once we had reached
it.
Finally we reached the end of the plateau, where it started to go
downhill. West
here meant following the slope down into a valley densely filled with
trees.
Which we did and at the bottom we were able to cross onto a lower area
where we
had finally left the barren, slippery rocks, rain and mist behind us.
But where
we had to suffer the ordeal of the previous day over again: wet feet.
Still we were not clear on where the hell we were. There
was absolutely no
hill in sight to focus our direction on and certainly not any tracks
either. The
only thing we could do is continue walking westward, since the cabin
once lay to
the west.
Somehow we stumbled onto a logging area. A large amount
of felled trees and
thus some evidence that man has once been here. Though a long time ago,
a very
long time ago given the overgrowth on the old tracks, that consequently
led to
nowhere. We took the time to rest a little and contemplate on the idea
that we
somehow might be lost and would probably have to camp out in the wild,
since
backtracking our way back to the Kivipää-cabin was out of the
question, we
would not be able to find it so easily as we came here. According to
the map a
hiking track from the Taajostupa to the Vellinsärpimä
day-cabin should be to
the west, if we would just blindly walk westward we would at some point
cross it
and be able to find our way from there. This we did, we started
walking, compass
at hand and steered ourselves to the west.
Through the trees we heard birds singing and an
occasional sunray shone upon
our faces. Merja though she heard something else as well. She said she
had heard
bells, like reindeer bells. Was she getting delirious or something, I
had not
heard it? She heard it again, and this time I had to admit that I had
heard the
same. Were we both getting delirious? A big massive male stood looking
at us and
some darting females stood sullenly behind him. According to Merja they
had come
to direct us back to civilisation, they were here guardian angels. I
had my
doubts about that, but agreed on the direction that Merja wanted to
take, since
it was the one I would have taken anyway it leading to the west. After
another
three hundred metres I came upon a boulder and from the top of it I
could see a
marking, used in directing hiking paths through the wilderness. I
waited
anxiously for Merja to catch up, because I had seen something else as
well. I
showed her the coloured clothing of about four people sitting in front
of an
outside fireplace. We were back in civilisation. As it happened we had
stumbled
right onto the Vellinsärpimä day-cabin, just were we had to
go. According to
Merja we had made it due to her guardian angels, according to me to my
navigation techniques.
The cabin was a small day-cabin with really just the
bare essentials, a
gas-stove for food and a wood-stove for warmth. We crashed down and
stripped our
wet clothes off and hung them out to dry. I prepared food and coffee
and we did
not bother yet to think about what to do from here. Day-trippers came
and went,
they made coffee inside and baked sausages outside. Merja took a nap
and I dove
into my novel.
Another backpacker came in and from the looks of it; he
intended to stay. He
had been around these cabins many times before and presumably new most
of them.
He told us about a cabin not too far from here which would be much
cleaner and
quieter than where we were now. We inquired about the right directions
and made
the decision in going there, since Merja was already fed up with the
many times
she had woken up due to people entering and leaving.
After we had dried up, or at least we were not soaked
anymore, we set out
again for the cabin. Just across the river was a big log-fire for
reasons we
will probably never know, but drying our soaked shoes and other
garments would
have been better over here. The heat was rather unendurable up close.
From here, it was just a matter of following signs along
well-maintained
paths towards this Lutto cabin. I was determined however to keep as dry
as
possible and stay well clear of wet areas. Unfortunately, some parts of
the road
disagreed with me and although we detoured through grasslands in order
to stay
clear of muddy parts, our feet sank in ankle-deep at some parts anyway.
About
four hundred metres in front of us I spotted a red coat. Apparently
others used
this road as well; we had to be on a used track. The red coat was part
of a
couple without heavy backpacks. In other words, they were day-trippers
and
according to the map, they should have past our next destination. I did
not ask
them though.
River to our right; trees to our left and in front of
us. Where was the road?
There was a small trail to our left, but I was sort of afraid to take
it,
because who knows were it would lead to and I wanted to get to the
cabin as soon
as possible. We took it anyway and I need not have worried. After a
mere fifty
metres a road broad enough for two cars to pass each other, led us to
the cabin.
The door would not open! Had we walked here for nothing?
Did we have to go
back to the uninviting day-cabin? After pulling a few times more, I
gave up and
pushed. Three beds, a table, bench, and an old style stove welcomed us.
Hope no
one else would show up.
The sounds of the river running next to the cabin gave
it a peaceful and warm
atmosphere. However, the temperature inside chilled that feeling down
the moment
we stepped in. It was no warmer than 12 degrees Celsius, warmer than
outside
though, but not enough to even think of being comfortable. Well, I just
had to
get the stove going and we would warm up soon enough. The available
wood however
let that easy thought fade away as fast as it came to me. It was all
damp, even
the wood that was stored inside.
Splitting logs with my hunting knife gave the necessary
kindling and some
reasonable pieces of wood. Next to the outside toilet was a small
storage shed
with an axe and some logs. Rather big logs in my opinion. I had never
really
done any serious wood chopping, but I figured it out soon enough and
after a
short while I had enough to last us through the night.
Now there was just one problem left to get the fire
started. It took a lot of
effort to get the kindling burning, but that was not the main problem.
The rest
of the wood was so damp that the kindling fires all died out underneath
the
bigger pieces. This rather pissed me off. Then a thought occurred to
me. The
fuel from my Sigg-firejet stove might just help. I drowned the wood
that was
already in the stove with lamp oil and threw in a match. Oh yes! This
was the
answer all right. In no time, I had burned half of the wood I had
chopped and
lost more than half of the lamp oil from my fuel bottle.
The stove blasted its heat into the cabin and in less
than an hour the
temperature had risen as high as 43 degrees Celsius. We had to stand
outside
occasionally to cool off, because it was like a sauna inside.
Night fell; we were warm and comfortable. I used the
last of the remaining
rays of daylight to read a few more pages of Mr. Michener’s Covenant.
Merja had to empty her bowels, but the fear of an alien abduction
overtook her
once again. In other words, I had to lay the book aside and accompany
her to the
toilet. Unfortunately, this was so full of shit that she had to squat
nearby and
relieve herself in the beam of my flashlight, under my disgusted eyes.
Later yet in the evening, the amount of water and tea
drunk also got to her,
but –again– going outside was out of the question. A plastic bowl,
used by others for cleaning dishes, came to her rescue.
We fell asleep and the peaceful sounds of the river and
joyful birds awoke us
to a beautiful Wednesday morning.
Wednesday 16th of September 1998:
Kaunispää
The sun shone in through the window facing the
riverside. Its mystical
morning rays freshly shone upon my hunting-knife, which lay besides me,
just in
case I would need it in an instant. Merja told me that she had not
slept so
deeply in a long time. The quality of the bed, the temperature,
yesterday’s hike and the relaxing location, were obviously responsible
for
this.
My Sigg-firejet had troubled me quite a bit yesterday.
Somehow the bottom
sealing kept catching fire and I had eventually stopped pursuing my
goal
–boiling water– any further. It was probably dirty or something, how
should I know? However, it was not too much of a problem then, since we
had a
fire going in the old stove. Today however, we did not have enough wood
and
effort left to start another stove-fire. I tried the Sigg-firejet again
and
succeeded in boiling water for tea.
The sound of an approaching car stunned us. Was someone
coming? After all
this was a cabin used by forestry personnel. We had gotten quite
accustomed to
the freedom of being alone in this cabin, which evidently showed in the
littering of our belongings all over the place. The car drove on and we
could
continue our routine unhindered.
Washing ourselves was the next step. Standing next to
naked in the cold water
of the river and splashing the water all over our bodies freshened us
up for the
last part of our trip. We would be on the bus this afternoon, but there
was
still the hike to Saariselkä over the top of
Kaunispää-hill.
According to the map, today’s hike would be rather easy.
After I had
convinced Merja that I would find the right route, we set of. It was a
mere
matter of following the road we had stepped upon yesterday and which
the car,
that had passed the cabin earlier, had also taken. The track was so
easy to
follow –off course, since cars use it as well– that I was actually
wondering whether it was the right one. According to the map we should
come to a
point where we would have two choices: straight on, on a direct route
to
Saariselkä, or turn right to catch the track over the top of
Kaunispää-hill.
It so happened that this was the point I had chosen to take a leak and
wait for
Merja.
To the right we went. The fact that the track was going
downhill gave me an
ill feeling. Visions of wet shoes were on my mind again. My visions
proved to be
right. We were leaving one track and in order to reach the next one
–the
one to the top of Kaunispää– we would have to traverse
another wet and
boggy area. The wooden planks did not prevent our shoes from being
sucked into
the mud. At one point, my right hiking-pole disappeared so deep into
the mud
that the handle did not reach further than my knee, or so I thought. It
just
happened that I had not tightened this telescopic pole well enough, so
it just
slipped down.
The dry other side was a welcome sight and as soon as we
had found our way to
the track, via a small ‘rabbit’s-trail’, we saw other people
again.
The day-trippers were eagerly enjoying their hikes and
they could be heard
chatting from far away. How could they enjoy this nature while
discussing
trivialities and thus not absorbing the beautiful surroundings? I will
probably
never understand that.
Ticking sounds had me intrigued for a while until I
understood that I was not
the only one using hiking-poles. Apparently, they are also popular with
elderly
women. I do remember seeing a program on Finnish television last summer
about
merely walking with them. But I had never actually seen someone use
them without
a heavy backpack strapped to their back. I still do not fully
understand the
benefit of enthusiastically walking with them, without being burdened
by at
least twenty kilos on your back.
We must have looked rather disgusting to most of the
day-trippers, since they
hardly gave us an approving glance. Was it the fact that we did not
have had a
shower in over six days, or was it the intimidating sight of my
hunting-knife
strapped in front of my chest?
We had only smelled nature for a rather short time –too
short for my
liking– but we were already over-sensitive to the artificial smells of
most of the day-trippers. We raised our noses to their soapy bodies and
perfumed
faces. Weird though, to go out on a hike wearing make-up and perfume!
The path continued upwards in a snake path-like manner.
There was not much to
see through the surrounding trees, which made the sight we had as soon
as we
were above the tree-line all the more majestic. From were we stood we
could
already see a vast landscape filled with hills; the better the view
must be from
the top of Kaunispää-hill!
Steadfast I walked on and in doing so I had left Merja
far behind me.
Consequently to walking upwards along a beaten track is that the
climactic
evolution of a beautiful view, like the reaching of the sensitive
highlight in
an aria or a virgin rose unfolding to the first rays of the sun in
springtime,
is behind you. Turning around regularly allowed me to enrich myself
with some of
nature’s beauty. So many hills! Off course, I was aware of this as we
hiked through some of them, but one can never truly visualise the
drawings on a
map until the real thing reveals itself. The sky was clear enough to
see as far
as Sokosti-fell, with its 718 metres the highest peak in the park, as
far as
forty kilometres away to the southeast. To the east I could see the –in
the mind– still forbidden land of Russia, just forty-five kilometres
away.
The top of Kaunispää-hill (368 metres) is the
usual tourist disaster. Too
many parking spots for cars and tour-busses and –consequently– too
many tourists with too many facilities. The shivering tourists can
spend far too
much money in the restaurant and souvenir shops. Two tired hikers
however also
welcomed the restaurant. A cup of coffee and a bun can do wonders! So
can the
sheer luxury of a toilet, with toilet paper.
Next to the self-service line of the restaurant,
numerous souvenirs were
spread around for eager buyers. Since we had not seen any bears during
our trip,
we were given the opportunity to see a stuffed one standing on guard in
front of
the souvenirs. The ‘Please don’t touch’-sign is probably too
difficult to understand for most people given the poor condition of the
bear’s nose. I did not understand it either.
The postcards were rather cheap here, so we decided to
send a few. We got
lucky here! In turns we picked out a few and wrote them at our table
while
sipping coffee and eating buns. When we were finished, I took them over
to the
cashier. I asked her for stamps and she concluded that I had already
paid for
the postcards together with the refreshments, the normal way I presume.
Who was
I to contradict her?
The only thing for us left to do here was follow the
path downward into
Saariselkä and catch the bus back home to Rovaniemi.
It did not struck me then, but as I am writing these
words now it does. I
miss this place. It was so beautiful, it was so refreshing to wake up
and not
hear the sounds of people using the elevator in our flat or cars
passing by.
Sure we have been in many other beautiful nature-reserves in Finland.
Unfortunately, most of them tend to be over-crowded, but the further
one hikes
away from the limits of the day-trippers paths the deeper the
self-satisfaction
becomes.
Post Scripture:
Thursday the 11th of March 1999, early in the morning,
the Taajostupa burned
down to the ground. What a loss, it was the nicest cabin I have ever
stayed in
on all my trips in Finland.
All
Rights Reserved © 1996 - 2004 Michael Hoogkamer
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Michael's Files
