Speeding to Halti and plodding back

From Kilpisjärvi to Halti and back. The nights are numbered. Map (c) Metsähallitus.

June 21—28, 2010

This story explains how hurrying to the tallest fell in Finland, Halti, made the return trip slower. The trip was done by Tiiti and Timo Kellomäki.

The whole spring was characterized by all kinds of hindrances popping up here and there. Would it be wiser to choose an easy route? Do we have time to do the trip in July? If not, is June too cold and snowy? Can we get anyone to come with us and will that result in schedule conflicts? Even Tiiti's mother complained that the area has way too many Norwegian tourists and is not worth visiting at all.

The "arm" of Finland was selected, since we had not been to Western Lapland despite many hiking trips. Tiiti was fascinated by the special flora that grows in the limestone soil of the great fells, and Timo by the landscape and views. We expected to see something quite different from those previous trips to Eastern Lapland. We packed food for ten days and had several plans for the route, to be chosen on the fly depending on our feelings. All of them started by taking the marked route to Halti and then heading to untouched wilderness.

More:

Last enjoyments in the civilized world. This beautiful fell, Saana, observed us for the whole first evening. The first hut at Saarijärvi is already visible.

The weekend of June 18 to 20

On Friday we took the train to Oulu. We were supposed to be guests at a friend's wedding, but it turned out that we were the ones that practically organized the whole thing. Early in the next morning we baked bread, cut some salad and our fingers, decorated the wedding site and did the bestman's hair. Even early in the next morning Tiiti found herself driving a Turbo Saab wearing pink rubber boots.

Day 1: Monday

The wedding had a couple of pleasant consequences for our trip: we found someone to take us both there and back. On Sunday evening we took the train to Rovaniemi, where we stayed at Tiiti's mother's cousin's mother-in-law's bed. At seven in the morning a friend's friend called Aleksi came to pick us up. After some organizing, we were able to find a seat for the two huge backpacks of ours. A few hours later we saw the first snow-peaked fells and soon both firs and pines had vanished.

At about noon we reached the small village of Kilpisjärvi and promptly satiated our stomachs at a restaurant called Marjas. The view was almost as good as the food: the huge windows were filled by Saana, whose slopes were decorated by shadows of the clouds, just like in Koyaanisqatsi. But the real treat was the tea, which one of the owners had insisted on serving. Instead of tea bags, five sorts of real tea leaves were available, including quality Assam.

As before, our goal was to buy as much of the food as possible from local shops. The grocery store in Kilpishalli had an inclusive assortment of food suitable for trekking. The selection was characterized by special products: there were all kinds of lactose-free and natural yoghurts, but only a single kind of the normal yoghurt we eat in Finland. The store also had a large selection of meat -- with all the names only in Norwegian.

Later we found out that there were two versions of our shopping list and one of them had no throat pastilles. Too bad, since they would have been useful later on.

The outdoors shop in the same building did not sell burners for our storm cooker (luckily we had not left it home). They had gas cookers, all kinds of clothing and general trekking equipment. We bough a calf support because of Timo's football injury.

Somehow all the equipment fit in the backpacks. Tiiti did her hair in a really beautiful way, and finally we were ready to go. The backpacks seemed to weigh a ton and the trail was badly eroded. One of our most useful items was a flora (a book with pictures of all the plants in Lapland). Already at the first creek we had to stop to use it, since Tiiti didn't recognize viola biflora. Soon we were high enough so that the birches around us had vanished, and each hilltop gave us a wider view.

Saana is a great fell and can be seen from afar, but behind it the Norwegian and Swedish fells are even more magnificent. Saana's steep figure ruled the landscape all day long. It is obvious that the fells in the Western and Eastern Lapland originate from different geological eras, since all of the western ones had similar cliffs on their eastern sides. The wind was strong above the tree line, and the weather was unpredictable: sometimes the sun was shining, but we were also hit by the occasional hail.

The marked route crosses the border to Norway for a few kilometers. The border had a sign saying "national border" in Finnish and Swedish, and "Suomi Finland" on the other side. It was hard to say when we had returned to Finland, since the other border was not marked at all. Tiiti was reminiscing one of her roleplaying characters, who escaped the Finnish Security Police over these fells to Norway. We now knew that we had underestimated the hardships that this poor character had to endure there.

The Saarijärvi hut stands in a lonely location among rocks, between a couple of small lakes. It was our first accommodation. The bunk was full, and people were sleeping on the floor. Some teenage girls were on their way back from Halti and seemed quite tired. A couple of guys from Helsinki were planning to continue to Norway from Halti. A Finnish guy and a French girl were going to Halti. Each party was doing their own thing, but suddenly the chatter ended as Tiiti started to read some stories aloud from the guestbook in the hut.

A biologist couple from Czech Republic was interested in our flora. It had the plant names in English, but the girl said she's fine with the latin names. Tiiti made such an impression with her knowledge that she was mistaken to be another biologist. The girl was fascinated by the lovely moss we have in Finland, but sadly the Lapland Rosebay (Rhododendron lapponicum) had not been found.

Observations:

More than a meter deep. More than a hundred meters of cliff. The Meeko cliff, with the two tallest fells of Finland on the background (Halti and Ridni). Tiiti notices the similarity between the map and the terrain.

Day 2: Tuesday

The dawn does not break in the summer up north, since it is bright all around the clock. Had it broken, it would have broken looking rainy. The wind was blowing hard from the west instead of yesterday's south. The temperature stayed under +5 centigrade for the whole day.

We gave Saana and Saana's radio tower the last glance before descending to the Guonjarvággi gorge. Tiiti calculated the link budget in decibels and measured the signal strength using her cellphone. At around 940 meters above sealevel, having descended 20 meters, the phone went dead. Sadly it didn't have any software for more exact measurements.

The gorge functioned as a wind tunnel, but luckily the wind was on our tail. The creek at the bottom was easy to cross along the rocks, since the water was low. It was somewhat green down in the gorge, though no trees, and the rugged fells hulked on both sides.

On the map the day's route had looked like a serious uphill battle; as a matter of fact, it would be the hardest ascension of the whole trip to be done with our backpacks. Somehow the pace was still good and the terrain seemed surprisingly easy and level.

We had a break at the Kuonjarjoki hut and cooked some chicken soup and lentils. As we arrived, the "frenchies" were just leaving, and just before we left, the "guys" entered. In the wilderness no names were needed to refer to other people, and we usually didn't give our names to anyone, either. It was funny how each party automatically got a nickname in our minds: during the trip, we met "girls", "men", "uncle", "tampereans", and "limper" among others.

As we walked we wondered why the backpacks felt so heavy this time, comparing ours with the assumed equipment of others. The "frenchies" said they had ten days of food just like us, but still a lot less load. What are we doing wrong? Our sleeping bags and the tent are already very light-weight. The rubber boots admittedly weigh quite a lot. We made all kinds of plans to lose some of the load, but they'll probably be forgotten before the next trip.

The map reveals the valley of lake Meeko to consist mostly of cliffs. It was still impossible to imagine what a view would await us there. A series of lakes zigzags in the bottom, and the shores carry sparse birch forests. This oasis is surrounded by more than 100 meters of sheer cliff from almost every side. Some drops of rain were coming down on the lakes and above all this we could see a delicate rainbow. Could we still be in Finland?

In the tailwind the 20 kilometers had felt like nothing and we decided to continue towards lake Pihtsus after a small break. Later this turned out to be a stupid and greedy thing to do. Namely, the ground was suddenly very rocky and we got to feel the wind tunnel's effects on our faces. The worst parts were covered by duckboards (wooden walkways), but the rocks lasted for several kilometers along the river. Even Timo, who usually estimates distances with a great precision, mistakenly thought we had advanced seven kilometers, when in reality it was only four.

After a bend in the river the hut was standing out as a paradise, where sun shines from an otherwise cloudy sky. However, examining the map revealed the hut to be for reindeer herders, and our hut was nowhere near. A couple of days later we heard that someone had even hopefully crossed the river to get to the hut. Her dog had resisted even the first crossing and especially coming back.

We had no choice but to grit our teeth and get on with it. Chocolate helped a bit, and only a moment after "the guys" we finally arrived at the hut of lake Pihtsus. Inside we found sleeping people and an old man ("the uncle"), who was carrying his antique backpack and with whom we would be talking a lot at the next hut. The guys and the uncle were still discussing after we had hanged our clothes to dry and vanished to our sleeping bags. This hut had proper pegs for backpacks on the outside walls. During the night a couple of snoring men had appeared next to Timo. For the whole night, wind howled in the chimney and rattled the stove doors.

Observations:

Finally, a place to hide from the wind. The Lake Pihtsus was still partly frozen, which meant that the hydroplane could not land and get the "limper" Sadly, the outhouse at Halti hut didn't have a rear window.

Day 3: Wednesday

After sleeping for nine or ten hours we got up to see how the guy on the upper bunk neared the edge and was finally hanging his legs over it.

Because of the bad experience we had had with the wind, neither of us had any interest to do extra trips here, so we decided to take our own trail back to Meeko after visiting Halti. Today would be an easy day for a change: we would simply go to the Halti hut and not even climb to the top. At the hut we would wash our dirty shoes and trousers and maintain our bodies with some stretching.

We noted that we had only eaten one of the planned three real meals this far. When the weather is bad, one often prefers a quick bread instead of cooking something.

Lake Pihtsus was still partly frozen. The guestbook told stories of people who had not reached the top of Halti just a week or two earlier because of excess snow. The morning looked calm and sunny, but it was only transitory. At noon the temperature went up to eight degrees.

We strolled towards Halti. The trail was following a creek, which still had more than a meter of snow left on the shores. In the cracks of the snow we saw a peculiar blue glimmer, which resembled some chemical detergent more than anything natural. Every once in a while the creek turned into a pond, whose surfaces were higher and higher: 850, 880, and finally Lake Halti at 920 meters above sealevel.

In these surroundings you can see afar, which gives a strange feeling of not progressing at all. The hut could still be seen when we found a nice boulder to protect us from the wind and stopped to cook some lunch. At least the terrain was changing from solid ground to water to snow and back again. "The guys" zoomed past us with only small backpacks. They were heading to Halti's top and then back to the hut again, and then to Norway. We invited them to have a cup of tea with us at the Halti hut, in case the climbing would make their feet wet or souls cold.

The cartographer had used his imagination when marking the trail branch leading to the Halti hut. Timo was wondering whether we had missed the branch, but the signpoles were quite clear. However, the path was not any different from the other rocks. It was a test of balance anyway, and this kind of rocky terrain does not even suffer from erosion.

We stayed at the new Halti hut, which was some hotel. There was room for a complete circus troupe; it even almost had a separate kitchen. Between the stoves of the open and reservable huts we found a small room meant for drying equipment. The warmth came from the chimneys of those stoves. Inside the hut we found "the uncle" from yesterday and a few hurried hikers. They had already been to Halti and the hasty ones were planning to get moving, as well.

Tiiti argued with the hurried man from Helsinki about a plant we had been seeing: purple mountain saxifrage or moss campion? Quite naturally, she won using the flora we had with us. Later we found the moss campion flowering farther down, while the saxifrage seemed to prosper on higher ground. Lake Meeko seemed to be the dividing line.

The snoring men from last night stayed at the old, four-person hut, which made Timo rejoice silently in his mind. We were joined by a couple from Tampere. There seemed to be lots of people from our region: also the uncle was from the same area and was actually related to the shopkeeper who had the grocery store near Tiiti's childhood home. During the long evening we discussed everything including the sale in a local shopping mall and how a marriage lasts forever if it survives the first seven years.

While stretching, Tiiti noticed that her left thigh did not stretch as well as the other, but did not realize what that meant. After a calm evening we went to bed already at nine o'clock, planning to wake up early so that the Halti snow would not have time to melt in the warmth of the sun. If the top layer was frozen, we could just walk on the surface instead of falling through on every step.

Observations:

The Halti summit. Glacier buttercup, ranunculus glacialis. This kind of terrain does not suffer from erosion.

Day 4: Thursday

The morning seemed worryingly foggy, at least on the peak of Halti. Comparing with the map we found out that the cloud was hanging at around 1100 meters, with the peak at over 1300 m. Every once in a while the cloud moved up, just to come back a while later. It didn't seem to mind our impatient gazes.

Timo was tired and had to bitterly accept the soreness of his throat as a sign of a flu coming. We couldn't miss the summit after coming this far, but we might have to stay at the hut for a while to recover. Somehow this felt especially bad because we had been afraid that Timo's football injury would hinder the trip, but it had not proven to be a problem anyway.

Our neighbors got bored of waiting for the cloud to dissolve, so we also put on the rubber boots and headed for the summit, taking a shortcut past the official branch. Tiiti staggered in the rocks, but the flora was the only victim: its map now has a largish crater near Rovaniemi. The woman from Tampere had wondered why we carry such a book, but it is especially good when doing one-day trips without backpacks. Here we saw all kinds of exotic plants.

The hillside had half-melted snow up to the thighs in places, but the rubber boots were watertight and the pant legs over them kept the water from getting in from above. Especially with a light load the boots felt good also for walking on the rocks. Every once in a while we got to enjoy "hankikanto", the snow crust being hard enough to walk on, like Legolas. We also enjoyed our special cookies, and the Tampereans passed us.

On the summit we got to add our names in the books (Tiiti is number 98056 and Timo -57) and take some tourist photos. The cell tower at Ridni allowed us to send our mothers and Jyrki some greetings. We spent a long while identifying the numerous fells visible from the highest point in Finland, but sadly our map didn't span much of Norway's area.

The highest-growing flower in Finland, the glacier buttercup, was naturally growing on top of Halti. Sadly that individual only had buds. After descending a hundred meters we found a few buttercups in full flowers while picking up some bottles that others had left. The flower is a couple of centimeters in diameter, which is disproportionately large compared to the other parts of the plant. As Tiiti was on all fours admiring the buttercup, a croaking raven flew over Halti to perfect the experience.

The Tampereans and Timo had a moment of sleep after the climbing. Having rested, Timo felt healthy enough to walk the ten kilometers back to the previous hut. We decided to test how rubber boots mix with backpacks: quite well, actually. We also dared to take a shortcut, crossing some ice fields with rivers below. The snow carried us surprisingly well.

It was windy up at the summit, but otherwise we had finally experienced a warm and calm day. The temperature was probably still below ten degrees, but the sun improved our humor noticeably, which in turn made the landscape even more beautiful. Timo was admiring the results of small avalanches on Little Halti, with Tiiti noting that she had pointed at them already last time. Even the mountain avens had opened their flowers exactly where Tiiti had found them budding yesterday.

June 24 was the midsummer according to the old calendar. There's a belief that a lady can see her future fiancé in dream if she collects seven kinds of flowers and puts them under her pillow for the midsummer night. Honoring this tradition, Tiiti frantically tried to find seven different flowers. As we descended, the assortment finally got large enough to get seven different geni among the flowers. The final result was glacier buttercup, mountain aven, purple mountain saxifrage, trailing azalea, arctic yellow violet, white arctic mountain heather and diapensia. (Note: No flowers were harmed during the making of this spell.)

As we were enjoying our first outdoor cooking experience in a pleasant weather, the men from next door zoomed past us and promised to reserve places for us in the hut. Tiiti carved a precision knife to fit the lid of the buttercase while Timo was cooking some extremely filling mashed potatoes (from powder).

In the night Lake Pihtsus was smooth as glass and the sun warmed the valley up to six degrees. We took a piece of soap and a couple of wash basins to the lakeshore and had a frosty bath, drying ourselves on the porch. The wind had made our faces red even earlier, but now some of it was probably caused by the sun. One could have just sat there for ages, admiring the view. It looked just like an advertisement for lake Geneva.

Observations:

The rainbow at Pihtsus falls. From the next day on it was forbidden to use the crooked bridge over Vuomakas river. Tiiti does the X. We would gladly have the Meeko cliffs at our kitchen window.

Day 5: Friday

Tiiti woke up and thought she had slept enough already. It was light out there. What a suprise, we were in Lapland during the summer and it's always light. Judging by the patch of light coming through the window, we had slept at least nine hours, so it was okay to wake up. Everyone else was still sleeping, though, so Tiiti politely went outside and only then started to jump around in the sunshine.

The wind had started to blow again, this time from the south, thereby transferring the remaining ice to the northern side of the lake. The ice tingled as they moved, and Tiiti wondered whether she heard a distant reindeer wearing a bell. A black-throated loon (bird) was yelling somewhere on the lake. Some of the serenity of last evening was gone, since there were now some ripples on the lake. Instead we had another sunny and happy day awaiting for us. The termometer read +17 in the sun, while in the shadow it was probably around six degrees.

Finally Tiiti got bored of her own company and went back inside to cook some porridge. After writing to the guestbook we were first to leave, but soon people were already overtaking us.

Just as yesterday's walk had transformed the nature from winter to spring, today we found the summer. We found more and more flowers blossoming and even the dwarf birches had full leaves. The first tree was standing on its own at the shores of Lake Vuomakas. On the first time we had barely noticed it, but now seeing it meant some kind of a revolution.

Timo insisted on having lunch at the 17-meter tall Pihtsus falls, and so we did. You could even see a rainbow in the spatters. Some kind of a large bird was hovering in the air, being fiercely chased by another bird half its size. Later we found out that the bird was a rough-legged buzzard (or hawk).

Last time around the valley of Lake Vuomakas had been a wind tunnel. Now the wind was gone, but so was our steam. Usually, if there seems to be something unexplainably wrong with your body, it's a good idea to drink water. We did. We rested. The backpacks didn't feel so heavy or the legs tired, but still for some reason we didn't seem to move forward. Luckily we would only be going to Lake Meeko today.

The reindeer were about, just as their herders. Every now and then we saw a group of ten reindeer and admired the fawns. A grown-up reindeer, especially when in between of winter and summer fur, is comically ugly, but the fawns looked like sheep from afar. It seems that the fawns are either white or brown, and only the grown-ups are multicolored.

The path is most rocky when it goes along the River Vuomakas. At some places it is almost like the path was carved in the rock. Some slippery places are equipped with a cable wire protected by some garden hose, which you can use for support. The river itself can be crossed using a crooked bridge, which is useful, since it could be hard to find a ford. As a downside of the rocky cliffs we also had to walk among the rocks, which is not much fun.

Some dark clouds appeared from behind the Meeko fell, and suddenly it started to rain. For once the day had seemed beautiful and still, but now Tiiti had to hastily put on her rain-proof trousers. The rain was light and passed quickly, but it made the rocks rather slippery, which in turn was too much for Tiiti's knees to handle. Yet again, the trip between Lakes Meeko and Pihtsus was the longest and most difficult 11 kilometers we have ever hiked. Next time we will definitely go someplace else.

At the hut Tiiti took both of our sleeping bags, one as a blanket and the other as a pillow, and just lied down. Timo cooked. Hopefully the fatigue wouldn't be a sign of some illness coming. We went to bed early, but we had been awake around the clock, after all. But on a trip like this, we do not care so much about the clock.

Observations:

Saivaara reminds us of our former president Kekkonen. It's relatively easy to climb onto Saivaara from the eastern side. The view from Saivaara to the east towards Poroeno. That's where we would have gone, had Tiiti's knees stayed well.

Day 6: Saturday

Midsummer magic never works. Tiiti had certainly collected enough flowers, but of whom did she dream: Juho, in whose wedding we had just been, and whose wedding photos we were taking among the fells in that dream. In the dream Tiiti also found a round-leaved wintergreen, and assumed that this dream would come true later on (but it didn't). If Tiiti should ever dream of matgrass or hair sedge, we would seriously have to put some usage restrictions on the flora. (Well, it seems that the joke did not translate very well. In Finnish the dream plants were cute flowers and the latter ones funny sounding grass.)

An ultra-light tent had appeared on the yard during the night. We discussed footwear and trekking equipment in general, and the lightweight trekker told us he just uses common sneakers for trekking. That might be worth trying. Anyway, we should weigh all our equipment at home and ponder how the mass accumulates.

Once again, the morning was sunny. Tiiti first combed the yard with her flora, and then we decided to make a daytrip to the nearby Saivaara. We decided to take the northern route between the fell and the lakes, but this proved to be a mistake: that route has the most rocks and some lush marshland for the mosquitos to breed. The mosquitos forced us to wear long sleeves and cover our heads, which caused painful overheating. Luckily there was some wind on the fell, which drove away most of the pests.

Saivaara is not your common fell. It is not too tall compared to other fells in the area, but it is standing all alone in the surrounding valley, and looks quite startling. All the sides are very steep. This kind of hills one can usually see only when relatives are showing photos from their trip to Australia. It is surprisingly easy to climb up there from the east, and some say that the more athletic among us can also climb the western side.

We took a while on the top, to admire the view and the buzzard, who apparently lives in some groove in the cliffs. Tiiti reached for some interesting plants on the edge in a way that almost looked dangerous. Even on the very top we could find some junipers, the crowberries had berries, and we even found a rabbit dropping. The map said that the hill would have some kind of a plaque for our former dicta... president Kekkonen, but it was a bit of a disappointment.

From the top we noticed that the southern side of the fell should be a lot nicer than the other side, and it was. We actually found a path on the hillside, but soon it faded. The western side had loads of crowberries and Tiiti was dreaming of picking some and making some kind of dessert cream for the porridge out of them and our blueberry powder.

Some guests had arrived at the hut meanwhile. Some were thinking of fishing and others just wanted to walk as much as possible. It seemed that everybody was already coming back from Halti. We had a some relaxed chatter about the cliffs of Saivaara, the sneaky fish hiding in the cold water and cheap plastic imitation crocs which break down. Tiiti bummed a cable tie from a trekker to help fix another's shoe. We seemed to be the only ones without anywhere to hurry.

Sometimes the hut guestbooks have comments like "I cleaned the hut" or "I washed the windows". Tiiti wanted to wash the dead mosquitos from the windows here at Lake Meeko, but didn't have the room for that since a group from Merijärvi arrived. The party consisted of two men who had been wandering around fishing, and two teenage girls, who had been to Halti. One of the men was fond of making fancy foods in the wilderness and offered some chocolate cake. Our gift in return was ice cream made of pudding powder and snow.

For the whole day, Tiiti had had a feeling as if her knees were large balls. Finally she remembered to check the situation, and found out that the left one actually did resemble a ball. How long had it been like that? Why didn't it spring to mind to check earlier? Had it been smart to climb to Saivaara? Could she walk back home with it?

Observations:

Ah, there's the hut, finally. Or is it? The mountain streams are so fresh and breezy that sometimes it's a bit too much to handle. After disentangling the braids. The swollen knee being cooled with the chilly water from a stream.

Day 7: Sunday

Tiiti woke up early in the morning, wondering whether she's allowed to get up. The bunks are not the most comfortable places to just lie down unless you're sleeping. Last night we had decided that today we would just start walking and see how far the legs can carry us. Before long we were on the trail, and luckily the terrain was pretty easy here. Now that Tiiti didn't stop to check each and every alpine this or lapland that, the kilometers went by faster than before.

Since it was Sunday, Tiiti had her own Lutheran service just as the official ceremony goes. The hymns and scriptures were collected from all parts of the Christian year, and there was no real theme. An insurmountable problem presented itself as Tiiti could not come up with a suitably long piece to serve as the gospel.

We started to get behind Gahperusvárri, which meant that we had to take the last looks at Halti. Last time we hadn't known which of the felltops it was, but now we could tell apart its snowy shape in the horizon. Soon we would see Saana again, but there were a few kilometers in between without seeing either of the famous and big fells. Saana is known for it's steepness and noticeable shape, while Halti is more massive than steep, which makes it visible from quite afar, though Norway has higher fells right next to Halti.

On the return trip through the valley of wind we had to pay for the tailwind we had had last time. The smooth and large valley did not have even a single boulder behind which to eat the provisions. Luckily we had made some sandwiches in the hut, and our pieces of mettwurst were sitting solidly between the pieces of bread. We met a group of ten birdwatchers, who yelled how awesome the weather is. We'll see what they think of that when they come back...

The downpour last night had affected the water level, since creeks that could just be danced over last time were now filled with fast-flowing water, which forced us to look for a crossing upstream. We could have forded the now-rivers, or try the rubber boots, but that was not necessary after all. Timo carried Tiiti's backpack over the stream and Tiiti tried to watch out for her knee. The creek had many glacier buttercups blossoming.

We reached the hut at River Kuonjar and just as last time, had chicken soup and lentils. It seemed like the only food that we hadn't gotten bored of. We solemnly swore that there would be no more rice and soybeans on our trips and we would come up with something more tasty. This was somewhat unusual, since typically almost anything that is note absolutely disgusting tastes yummy on a trekking trip.

Tiiti's braids had come to the honorable age of six days, which was celebrated by untying and renewing them. Just as the hair was at its fluffiest, two hunks entered and seemed a bit surprised. After some recovery from the shock we explained our plans to each other and they inquired whether we would make it with the hurting knee. They had reserved four days for the 110 km trip to Halti and back, but their equipment looked like it was designed for two weeks. Well, the fixed expenses like clothing and basic equipment don't depend on the number of days.

The lunch gave us strength to continue to the hut at Saarijärvi. We were dying to get out of the wilderness at this point, and the terrain seemed easy enough. We decided that Timo would walk briskly for the whole trip and would then come back to fetch Tiiti's backpack. Tiiti would carry it as long as possible, but would abandon it as soon as the terrain gets bad. And on we went.

The food had lifted our spirits, the wind had subsided a bit and we finally saw Saana again. Tiiti used her famous sisu (guts), sang hymns to keep up the mood and noted that many of them have lyrics designed to comfort one during a long voyage: "you lead us to the world and allow us strength again and again", "go to all ends of the world, thus commands the King", "who wants to follow the footsteps of the Lord -- -- he will also die", "the path will lead to heaven, but it is a path of pain". Tiiti sang about forty hymns from the book.

A few kilometers before the hut the ground got so rocky that Tiiti packed a survival kit with just the essentials and left the backpack. Somehow it was a funny selection of gear: provisions, knife, map, first aid kit, and a mug. With those one could survive until the world ends! The journey continued with a light load and more hymns. Just as Tiiti was singing "You come to me asking to join -- -- for the trip you give me no bread, no bag, nor a staff", Timo finally met Tiiti, ask her to join him and brought a couple of staffs (poles for nordic walking). The bread Tiiti already had in her bag.

The Tampereans we met at Halti had met the slightly distressed Timo at the Saarijärvi hut, given some painkillers for his hurting calf, loaned the walking poles and promised to wait until we arrive. The poles were nice to have, even though they weren't exactly crutches. We soon reached the hut and since Saana was visible, Tiiti called her mother for doctor's advice. She heard that she should eat a regimen of ibuprofen.

For supper we had some extra spicy kimchi, which was from an ethnic shop in Tampere. Very tasty. We compared our food assortments and gave each other tips on where to buy food for treks in Tampere. We got to keep the poles for another day, and they could be returned either at Kilpisjärvi or back home in Tampere.

Observations:

The backpackers see Saana's steep edge on the left. On Saana. Besides Malla, you can see distant Norwegian mountains, which completely dwarf their Finnish cousins.

Day 8: Monday, the last day

Only 12 kilometers until civilization. We made some sandwiches and decided not to cook anything today. In hindsight we definitely should have had a break for proper food. Something to keep in mind the next time.

The medication had made the knee look like a knee again. Maybe Tiiti should have started eating them earlier. She is doubtful of using painkillers, since pain is a signal from the body -- Stop! -- and it should not be ignored, lest something be truly broken. A normal-sized and normally bending knee made walking a lot easier than yesterday.

Next to the village the trail was naturally the most employed and therefore also the most eroded. Whenever it wasn't filled with rocks sticking out of the soil, the soil was totally missing and we had just the rocks. In addition, the wind had not vanished anywhere. The mood was not good, and even though Tiiti consciously tried to psych herself to behave, a few mean comments were aired.

We did another quick visit to Norway, saw the same reindeer fences and lakeshores as last time, looked at a dead lemming and ate our provisions at regular intervals. Some of the people we met were now hiking for a single day. Timo was carrying his own backpack in front and returned to carry Tiiti's through the worst rocks and downhills. Luckily Tiiti had the poles, since without them the trip would have been even more painful.

As the village came closer, we started to hear cars and all kinds of other racket, which made us realize how silent the wilderness had been, not counting the howling wind. Finally our feet touched tarmac and lo, on the very moment the Tampereans came out from a shop. "We are safe! Would you like to have a nice pair of poles?"

The rest: resting

We spent a couple of nights in the cheaper rooms Hotel Kilpis and enjoyed the sauna. Tiiti swam in the Lake Kilpis, which was only a few degrees above zero. There was no question about where to eat, since Marjas had proven to be supremely good.

Timo climbed to Saana and Tiiti watched the view as soon as she got above the treeline. She also met a bluethroat (bird) on her way back down, while Timo finally found the rare lapland rosebay on Saana. We also met the girls from Merijärvi and the four-day hunks, who were complaining about their knees.

A friend's wife took us back to Oulu and we were on the rails from there on.

The missed rhododendron lapponicum, lapland rosebay.

Thank you!

We'll be back.

P.S. Tiiti's knee was completely cured with ibuprofen, and went to play football the next week.

Written by Tiiti Kellomäki, translation and pictures mostly by Timo Kellomäki 2010. Back to Tiiti's hiking pages