Wonderment
My alarm goes off Saturday at 3:45 am. Way too early, but the adrenaline keeps me awake. At the railway station, I notice my train is already running an hour late. I could have slept longer, which would have been welcome, as it had become quite cozy last night with some friends. Despite this delay, I can still easily catch the bus to Inari in Rovaniemi - the tourist gateway to Lapland. It would be smart to sleep now since the drive will take four more hours, but I am too excited. I want to see the first Tunturis (the Sami name for the barren hilltops), and I hope to see a moose. I don't get to see a moose, but I can enjoy beautiful landscapes (the lakes are starting to freeze over), reindeer, grouse, and even two siberian jays. I arrive by noon in Kiilopaa. My adventure can finally start!
I get to see landscapes that I could not imagine until recently. Taiga and Tunturis as far as the eye can see. A sleeping landscape at the first sight... but in reality full of surprises...
I regret almost instantly that my backpack is so heavy. My large backpack on my back contains my sleeping bag, clothing, and food, and my smaller backpack on my belly contains my camera and some snacks. Therefore, I am quite clumsy. In retrospect, it would have been better to rent a pulka (a kind of sled the carry your luggage). The first kilometers take quite some time since I am not used to walking with snowshoes. I look a bit like a penguin who slowly shuffles through the white landscape.
Can you imagine a more cozy place to sleep?
I spend the first night in a cabin situated along the treeline. The surroundings look like a suitable place to search for willow grouse, mountain hares, or other small mammals. At first glance, my search does not yield much. The snow is covered by a complicated network of animal tracks. As the sun sets, I wonder how on earth I'm supposed to find those bloody animals.
The sun has almost set when I hear the sound of willow grouse(according to the Collins bird guide "ke-kerrrr-ke-kerrehe ehe ehe"). I look around excitedly. And then I see a white sphere on a stone. Could it be a bird? I quickly aim my lens at it, and yes, it is a willow grouse! It turns out I'm still a week too early for the completely white winter plumage birds, but even with "dirty" brown spots, these birds remain a candy for the eyes.
The evening consists of eating, resting, and staring at the fire. I get to see a short glimpse of the northern lights before I go asleep. The solar activity is low, so I don't get to see much more than a green haze. It is much more fun to try to photograph Jupiter. If you realize that Jupiter is about 1321 times the size of the Earth, it is almost as spectacular to see this planet as to see the northern lights.
I felt so privileged to be standing in a landscape like this, I was full of energy, ready to go out for an adventure.
Me, the reindeers and I
It is already bright when I wake up the next morning. I try to pack my stuff as fast as possible. Days are shorting at an incredible pace, so there is no time to lose. "As fast as possible" is pretty relative since preparing to go out at -20°C is a bit more complicated than going out on a summer hike. Here is a summary of my to-do list when I arrive/leave the hut:
- Make snow shoes ice and snow-free.
- Light the stove
- Get water from the river/melt snow
- Hang my jackets and sweaters to dry
- install my sleeping pad and sleeping bag
- Prepare food
- Keeping my diary (write down the route and keep track of observations)
- clean the hut when I leave
- put on all my layers
- Light the stove
- Get water from the river/melt snow
- Hang my jackets and sweaters to dry
- install my sleeping pad and sleeping bag
- Prepare food
- Keeping my diary (write down the route and keep track of observations)
- clean the hut when I leave
- put on all my layers
So, you certainly understand now that you quickly lose over an hour if you want to leave the hut in the morning.
Under a bright winter sun, I start to climb the hill. I am once again rewarded with a breathtaking view when I arrive at the top. I feel enormous respect for nature while being surrounded by the white expanse of snow and ice. But I am not alone here. Countless reindeer try to find food while trampling on the snow.
Reindeer (Rangifer tarandus tarandus) play a significant role in Finland. Unlike Norway and Sweden, reindeer herding in Finland is not an exclusive right of Sami. Most Sami live/lived in Finland mainly from fishing and hunting. The reindeer you encounter in northern Finland are semi-domesticated, meaning Sami maintain the animals very extensively. Twice a year, herders gather the reindeer to be tagged (summer) or slaughtered (winter). Each herding area is fenced, but these areas are pretty vast. The reindeer still do a limited migration between their winter and summer grounds, but this is much less spectacular than it used to be in the wild.
As large-scale farming in Central Europe, large reindeer herds pose risks to the landscape and local ecosystems. The most pronounced problem is the overgrazing of lichens. In addition, large carnivores are also not tolerated in the reindeer herding area. Because of this, the so-called wilderness in northern Finland could be considered a degraded ecosystem.
The presence of reindeer herds has also positive effects. A study suggested that reindeer may slow down the climate change-induced upward shift of the tree line since they like to eat young tree sprouts (Villoslada M. et al. 2023). The upward shift of the tree line is one of the major threats to arctic climate change. It restricts the breeding area for several birds or suitable habitat for several plant species or butterflies.
Climate change negatively affects the reindeer too. For example, when the snow melts in the winter and the melting water freezes again shortly after again. A hard icy layer is formed on top of the snow, making it difficult for reindeer to find food under the snow layer.
Back to the white chickens
You probably already understood that ptarmigans belonged to my target species list. Two species of ptarmigan are found in Finland: the widely distributed willow grouse (Lagopus lagopus) and the rock ptarmigan (Lagopus muta), which is limited to the high tunturis. I had already seen the willow grouse on my first day, but I wanted to spend more time with this emblematic species.
During winter, these birds get their distinctive stark white plumage. This is an impressive adaptation that helps them blend into their snowy surroundings. Therefore, both species are difficult to tell apart in winter. In summer, things are easier. Willow grouses are much browner, while rock ptarmigans have more grey colors. The color differences reflect the differences in habitats: brownish mires versus grey rocky environments.
Ptarmigans have strongly feathered legs, which create a snowshoe-like effect, helping them sink less deeply into the snow. It is another crucial adaption for surviving the harsh winter.
I arrive, tired, at my second hut. Walking on snow shoes is not to be underestimated. After I did my "arriving routine" I wanted to get water from a little stream that was still unfrozen. While putting on my jacket, I hear the unmistakable sound of the willow grouse. I grab my camera and go outside. No less than ten birds forage on birch and (creeping) willow catkins around the hut! Occasionally, a bird lands in the snow, offering me great photography opportunities! I never expected to get such good observations of this emblematic species. The struggle with my heavy backpack, snow shoes, and cold certainly paid off!
The mental game
So far, I have only written about the first two days. But don't worry, I won't write another ten paragraphs about the remaining days. After these first two days, the weather changed. After the winter sun, cold grey, snowy days came. Approximately 20 cm of fresh snow accumulated. Every step felt terribly heavy. Walking at 1km/h was already a success. Roads were no longer visible. I had to rely mostly on my paper map and the GPS of my smartphone. Those days were hard. Especially when I lost my precious thermos with hot tea or when the shop where I planned to do my shopping turned out to be closed. All this led me to return to Oulu a few days earlier than expected.
Despite some misfortune, this trip was a success. Being alone in the wilderness, without seeing any other person for several days, is a confronting thing. You start to have conversations with your inner self. I learned a lot. Most of all, I realized how easy we have it sometimes in our privileged world. While walking through the endless snowy landscapes, I had to keep my focus all the time. Losing the right track could have had serious consequences.
I also realized again that photography never comes without sacrifices. Next time, I want to be more present in the moment, as I’ve realized I often focus on how to share an experience with others rather than fully immersing myself in it. As a photographer, I feel obliged to register my experiences in nature. Maybe this is an unfounded duty that I should leave on the table.
And most of all, I enjoyed traveling again after all the Corona restrictions so much! I look forward to the adventures yet to come!
