The trip was a collaboration between Ben & Debs from Wild Human who teamed up with Phil Thompson who runs Boreal Forest Expeditions and is based in Ivalo, Lapland.
It was an expedition style trip where we’d be spending two nights at a Sami homestay, four nights out on the trail and then a final night back at the homestay.
Day 1 we rendezvous at Ivalo airport having transferred from Helsinki, and we’re met by Ben, Debs and Phil.
Ivalo airport is... petite.
A ~90min drive from Ivalo is Ahkun Tupa, a family-run homestay/campsite in Inari where we’d base ourselves for the first couple of nights. The owners, Margeta and Tinti, are of mixed Finnish/Sami descent and have fascinating stories (and delicious food).
Day 2 we were issued our kit: day bag, night bag, odds ‘n sods bag, flask, kupilka set, pulk (sled), sleeping bag, reindeer skin, shovel, boots and skis.
Finding the skis and finding our feet
The rest of the day was then spent learning how to use the skis. I’m a fairly competent Alpine skier, but Nordic Forest Skiing is a whole other thing. Like other cross country skis, your heel is free to let slide forwards. But the boots are essentially wellies, so there isn’t any ankle support. Nor is there any edge to the skis, so being faced with the teeniest downward slope induced moderate panic.
Still, after a few practice laps on the lake, everyone was staying upright.
Day 3 we hit the trail in earnest. The plan was to cover about 10 km across the lakes and forest to reach our campsite. We piled all our kit onto our pulks, along with food bags and parts of the tents, and secured everything with the built in bungees.
Packed and ready for the off
The pulks were then connected to you by means of carabinered ropes, like traces. I finally found a use for the two handles either side of a Sabre 45 waist belt!
It was quite challenging going. The weather was brisk, probably around -5 to -8 in the daytime. And negotiating the terrain when going through the forest was a learning experience all of its own. Top tip: disconnect yourself from your pulk and let it make its own way down any hills, unless you want to find yourself wrapped around a tree. Guess how I know.
Heading out into wild grey yonder
I’d followed the advice of only wearing natural fibres: merino base layers, wool mid layers and a cotton, Swedish army smock outer layer. And despite the constant exertions, my heat and sweat management was as easy as I could have wanted.
Keeping warm despite the spindrift
We stopped in the snow, sitting on our reindeer skins, for a lunch of hot noodles from our flasks and then yomped on to our destination.
The reindeer skins were astonishingly good insulators owing to their hollow hairs
It transpires that Finland has an incredible camping infrastructure and you’ll find amazingly well appointed cabins throughout the wilderness, which are essentially free to use. This includes stoves, firewood and latrines, along with basic furniture. Absolute luxury as far as we were concerned.
Our first campsite was next to a ‘day cabin’ ie one you aren’t supposed to spend the night in, but you can help yourself to it during waking hours. It formed our HQ for cooking and eating dinner, as well as drying out any kit.
Stove lit, kettle on
Our sleeping accommodation was two Savotta Hawu 8 military stove tents, with an expanded middle section.
Extremely robust, but definitely built for function rather than comfort, as demonstrated by the slightly awkward entry and exit procedure which combined the hurdle and the limbo.
By the end of the week, we were pretty slick at getting the tents up and down, but there was definitely a learning curve.
The biggest challenge was having to ‘sinter’ the snow for the base of the tent. Because we were dealing with powdery, sugar snow, it didn’t naturally compact itself like you’d expect a snowball to. Instead it took a lot of tromping around on skis to try to flatten it, and then leaving it for as long as possible to re-freeze. We had mixed results. While groping around inside the tent on all fours, it was highly possible that you’d put a hand down and post-hole yourself two feet into the snow.
Like I say: a learning curve.
Our best frienemy: setting up the tent in the dark on meringue-y snow was... character building.
Day 4 and onto our second location, through more of the forest this time. While it was only 6.5 km, it felt longer to me. Probably because I’d had a dire night’s sleep. It turns out that not being bothered to look for your hat or buff before bed, combined with wearing only one layer of thermals, doesn’t make for a comfortable or confident night’s kip. Once the stove was out, it was tickling -15 to -20 and that’s the sort of cold you feel on your face and in your lungs.
Lesson learnt.
Following another noodle lunch, we arrived at our ‘layover’ campsite where we’d be spending two nights. Next to it was an even more impressive ‘night cabin’. This was twice the size of the day cabin, had two rooms with a stove each and large, double-decker bunk beds which could accommodate 8 people. There was even a gas stove and firelighters, as well as a full wood store.
The luxurious night cabin
Fabulously well appointed with all mod cons for the modern bushcrafter.
Fire lit and water sourced from our bore-hole in the lake, we had an amazing stew of butter beans & chorizo and headed out to admire the Northern Lights. We saw them every night, to varying degrees, and I just never got bored of them.
Properly insulated (internally and externally), buffed and hatted, I had a much better night’s sleep - snoring from other members of the group notwithstanding. Par for the course, no?
The stove going at full rip
Day 5 was our layover day and for me was the most enjoyable. We went out exploring the woods on skis, Phil surprised us with a shoulder of reindeer cooked over the fire, we carved ice fishing rods and drilled fishing holes out on the lake. I didn’t catch anything, but that’s 99% of fishing, isn’t it?
A beautiful sight to wake up to
Phil serving up some reindeer
My crack at a fishing rod
Not a nibble
We finished the evening with a star lore talk from Ben, pointing out the constellations with a laser pointer (top tip: lithium batteries are worth it).
Day 6 and we’re heading back to the first camp. The weather was absolutely stunning - bright sunshine and blue skies. It’s easily some of the most beautiful landscape I’ve seen in my life. We got strung out as we navigated the woods and being alone with the snow, the trees and the sun was quite special.
Ready for the return leg
Now that we had to make a few small ascents, we stuck skins to the bottom of our skis which meant we could easily shoop up the inclines, with the added bonus of slowing down our descents too.
By that night, we were dab hands at getting the tent up, pre warming it and practically dancing in and out of the entrance. Well, nearly. We pitched on our original spot which had now, a mere 3 days later, solidified into a nice stable base.
Phil, being a legend, opted to stay up late feeding the stove, so it was the toastiest night we’d had yet. I did need my first night time bathroom break that night, so I was very grateful of the stove running at 3am when I came in shuddering from the cold.
Phil stoking the stove
Day 7 and it’s homeward bound to the reservation. It was another beauty of a day that somehow had blue skies and snowfall, just for extra dramatic effect. We crashed out at lunch on our reindeer skins and everyone just lay down for an hour, taking in the beauty and making the most of the moment.
As close as you can get to a siesta in the snow
Ahkun Tupa hove into view around the last bend of the river and we set to repatriating all our kit.
After five days on the trail, a shower went down extremely well. As did one or two beers from the camp’s bar. And just for good measure, we saw the most spectacular northern lights of the trip.
A truly spectacular aurora on the last night
Day 8 was transfer day. After a few rounds of deliberation, logistics and car swapping, myself and two others ended up spending the day with Phil, being shown the Sami museum in Inari, Ivao where we had a belting lunch, and Saariselka - another national park with a ski slope next door.
It was also an opportunity for me to blow some pocket money on souvenirs and to get myself a puukko.
This is an incredibly long write up, but it probably won’t surprise you that it doesn’t capture a tenth of what we experienced.
It was a truly fantastic week. The setting is unforgettable - unlike anything I’ve experienced anywhere else. And Ben, Debs and Phil provided unparalleled guidance, tuition and support - not to mention some belting meals and a lot of laughs.
Having seen how incredibly well provided for hikers, campers and bushcrafters are in Finland, I’m very keen to go back.
Phil is running two summer courses which both sound fantastic, and I’ll be joining Ben and Debs again over the summer for another course.
Thanks for reading,
F.
It was an expedition style trip where we’d be spending two nights at a Sami homestay, four nights out on the trail and then a final night back at the homestay.
Day 1 we rendezvous at Ivalo airport having transferred from Helsinki, and we’re met by Ben, Debs and Phil.
Ivalo airport is... petite.
A ~90min drive from Ivalo is Ahkun Tupa, a family-run homestay/campsite in Inari where we’d base ourselves for the first couple of nights. The owners, Margeta and Tinti, are of mixed Finnish/Sami descent and have fascinating stories (and delicious food).
Day 2 we were issued our kit: day bag, night bag, odds ‘n sods bag, flask, kupilka set, pulk (sled), sleeping bag, reindeer skin, shovel, boots and skis.
Finding the skis and finding our feet
The rest of the day was then spent learning how to use the skis. I’m a fairly competent Alpine skier, but Nordic Forest Skiing is a whole other thing. Like other cross country skis, your heel is free to let slide forwards. But the boots are essentially wellies, so there isn’t any ankle support. Nor is there any edge to the skis, so being faced with the teeniest downward slope induced moderate panic.
Still, after a few practice laps on the lake, everyone was staying upright.
Day 3 we hit the trail in earnest. The plan was to cover about 10 km across the lakes and forest to reach our campsite. We piled all our kit onto our pulks, along with food bags and parts of the tents, and secured everything with the built in bungees.
Packed and ready for the off
The pulks were then connected to you by means of carabinered ropes, like traces. I finally found a use for the two handles either side of a Sabre 45 waist belt!
It was quite challenging going. The weather was brisk, probably around -5 to -8 in the daytime. And negotiating the terrain when going through the forest was a learning experience all of its own. Top tip: disconnect yourself from your pulk and let it make its own way down any hills, unless you want to find yourself wrapped around a tree. Guess how I know.
Heading out into wild grey yonder
I’d followed the advice of only wearing natural fibres: merino base layers, wool mid layers and a cotton, Swedish army smock outer layer. And despite the constant exertions, my heat and sweat management was as easy as I could have wanted.
Keeping warm despite the spindrift
We stopped in the snow, sitting on our reindeer skins, for a lunch of hot noodles from our flasks and then yomped on to our destination.
The reindeer skins were astonishingly good insulators owing to their hollow hairs
It transpires that Finland has an incredible camping infrastructure and you’ll find amazingly well appointed cabins throughout the wilderness, which are essentially free to use. This includes stoves, firewood and latrines, along with basic furniture. Absolute luxury as far as we were concerned.
Our first campsite was next to a ‘day cabin’ ie one you aren’t supposed to spend the night in, but you can help yourself to it during waking hours. It formed our HQ for cooking and eating dinner, as well as drying out any kit.
Stove lit, kettle on
Our sleeping accommodation was two Savotta Hawu 8 military stove tents, with an expanded middle section.
Extremely robust, but definitely built for function rather than comfort, as demonstrated by the slightly awkward entry and exit procedure which combined the hurdle and the limbo.
By the end of the week, we were pretty slick at getting the tents up and down, but there was definitely a learning curve.
The biggest challenge was having to ‘sinter’ the snow for the base of the tent. Because we were dealing with powdery, sugar snow, it didn’t naturally compact itself like you’d expect a snowball to. Instead it took a lot of tromping around on skis to try to flatten it, and then leaving it for as long as possible to re-freeze. We had mixed results. While groping around inside the tent on all fours, it was highly possible that you’d put a hand down and post-hole yourself two feet into the snow.
Like I say: a learning curve.
Our best frienemy: setting up the tent in the dark on meringue-y snow was... character building.
Day 4 and onto our second location, through more of the forest this time. While it was only 6.5 km, it felt longer to me. Probably because I’d had a dire night’s sleep. It turns out that not being bothered to look for your hat or buff before bed, combined with wearing only one layer of thermals, doesn’t make for a comfortable or confident night’s kip. Once the stove was out, it was tickling -15 to -20 and that’s the sort of cold you feel on your face and in your lungs.
Lesson learnt.
Following another noodle lunch, we arrived at our ‘layover’ campsite where we’d be spending two nights. Next to it was an even more impressive ‘night cabin’. This was twice the size of the day cabin, had two rooms with a stove each and large, double-decker bunk beds which could accommodate 8 people. There was even a gas stove and firelighters, as well as a full wood store.
The luxurious night cabin
Fabulously well appointed with all mod cons for the modern bushcrafter.
Fire lit and water sourced from our bore-hole in the lake, we had an amazing stew of butter beans & chorizo and headed out to admire the Northern Lights. We saw them every night, to varying degrees, and I just never got bored of them.
Properly insulated (internally and externally), buffed and hatted, I had a much better night’s sleep - snoring from other members of the group notwithstanding. Par for the course, no?
The stove going at full rip
Day 5 was our layover day and for me was the most enjoyable. We went out exploring the woods on skis, Phil surprised us with a shoulder of reindeer cooked over the fire, we carved ice fishing rods and drilled fishing holes out on the lake. I didn’t catch anything, but that’s 99% of fishing, isn’t it?
A beautiful sight to wake up to
Phil serving up some reindeer
My crack at a fishing rod
Not a nibble
We finished the evening with a star lore talk from Ben, pointing out the constellations with a laser pointer (top tip: lithium batteries are worth it).
Day 6 and we’re heading back to the first camp. The weather was absolutely stunning - bright sunshine and blue skies. It’s easily some of the most beautiful landscape I’ve seen in my life. We got strung out as we navigated the woods and being alone with the snow, the trees and the sun was quite special.
Ready for the return leg
Now that we had to make a few small ascents, we stuck skins to the bottom of our skis which meant we could easily shoop up the inclines, with the added bonus of slowing down our descents too.
By that night, we were dab hands at getting the tent up, pre warming it and practically dancing in and out of the entrance. Well, nearly. We pitched on our original spot which had now, a mere 3 days later, solidified into a nice stable base.
Phil, being a legend, opted to stay up late feeding the stove, so it was the toastiest night we’d had yet. I did need my first night time bathroom break that night, so I was very grateful of the stove running at 3am when I came in shuddering from the cold.
Phil stoking the stove
Day 7 and it’s homeward bound to the reservation. It was another beauty of a day that somehow had blue skies and snowfall, just for extra dramatic effect. We crashed out at lunch on our reindeer skins and everyone just lay down for an hour, taking in the beauty and making the most of the moment.
As close as you can get to a siesta in the snow
Ahkun Tupa hove into view around the last bend of the river and we set to repatriating all our kit.
After five days on the trail, a shower went down extremely well. As did one or two beers from the camp’s bar. And just for good measure, we saw the most spectacular northern lights of the trip.
A truly spectacular aurora on the last night
Day 8 was transfer day. After a few rounds of deliberation, logistics and car swapping, myself and two others ended up spending the day with Phil, being shown the Sami museum in Inari, Ivao where we had a belting lunch, and Saariselka - another national park with a ski slope next door.
It was also an opportunity for me to blow some pocket money on souvenirs and to get myself a puukko.
This is an incredibly long write up, but it probably won’t surprise you that it doesn’t capture a tenth of what we experienced.
It was a truly fantastic week. The setting is unforgettable - unlike anything I’ve experienced anywhere else. And Ben, Debs and Phil provided unparalleled guidance, tuition and support - not to mention some belting meals and a lot of laughs.
Having seen how incredibly well provided for hikers, campers and bushcrafters are in Finland, I’m very keen to go back.
Phil is running two summer courses which both sound fantastic, and I’ll be joining Ben and Debs again over the summer for another course.
Thanks for reading,
F.
