Hello there,
It was nice to receive a maintenance/snack package brought by Hannu and Armi-Tuulia Niemi as they traveled to Lapland for a ski holiday. They did a little loop with their family through Murtovaara, where I was spending my rest day with Timo Manninen.
Thank you very much again and hopefully the ski holiday went smoothly.
This time my own mother was in charge of the packaging and she did a good job with packing the Tactical Foodpacks and also the right tools and equipment had been packed in cardboard boxes. Thank you so much! Also to you darling Heidi, for finding and ordering the right equipment for replenishment. A well rested man and the serviced equipment continued the Border ski from Hossa towards Onkamo.
The trip continued in fine weather, which I have been able to enjoy here for a good four weeks. So I was looking forward to the scenery of the Oulanka National Park ahead. As I approached a village called Vuotunki, I was struck by Pohjolan Pirtti’s advertisement about the location of the skiing track café and its supply. ”Open,” I rejoiced in my mind, and a few long kicks later, I admired the exquisite café décor, enjoying the delicious savory and sweet. After the hostess’s freezer inventory, a kilo of pea soup, a cinnamon bun and a piece of blueberry pie came along with me. During the evening camp, I blanched the pie with a vanilla-flavored protein drink, and it was good.
As I was skiing along the road following the Kuusinki river towards the border, a black SUV stopped by me. This family called Rahkonen (?) From Kalajoki were spending a holiday at their cottage. After a joint wonderment that there are others here, I gladly accepted the offered cola drink and, with permission, emptied a couple kilo rubbish bag into the rubbish bin on the cottage road. One of the absolute highlights of this Border ski has been the hospitality that can be experienced by meeting different people.
A mother, who had gone for an evening ski, caught up with me, and we talked about hiking and the experiences of them. The miles went by nicely chatting until I had to go descending into the river valley. A frontiersman I met earlier tipped off a toboggan run to a lean-to by the riverside. Nothing would have come of skiing in the dark without a groove, when the river is located between steep slopes. When I found the lean-to, I stayed in it with a Tengmalm’s owl chiming in the background.
The next day, when I got to Oulanka Park, I marvelled at its old trees and sturdy lone pine trees, as well as their ancient dead pine trees. The curls of the branches swirled nicely here and there, giving each dry its own ”character.”
After crossing the Oulankajoki River, I encountered a snowmobile patrol that was dropping by in front of a log cabin. They knew the name of the carpenter who had built the cabin, and so nicely had the logs been placed and the corners finished that a photo had to be taken. I also heard the patrol continuing their way towards the border to the north. This lifted my spirits when I knew the snow covered base would hold the weight of myself and my load.
The mood did level off quickly when I saw the transverse, steep slopes of the forested hills, which should be ascended and soon descended without breaking yourself or the equipment. Skis off the feet, grabbing the poles and getting up in a way that resembles crawling. Going down the slope, you have to bite into the slope with your heels, keeping the feel of the toboggan at all times that it will not accelerate and take the man with it. With each leg straight on the jump, one would hope that the patella and toboggan run would last.
A wolverine had been walking on the border groove, plowing the bases of the pines and had taken a piss here and there. I don’t know if it was a show of the female’s charm or a male’s bluster. The vast swampy wilderness of the national park was fine with its wooded islets in swamps where old trees grew and dead pine trees among them. I thought it would be even more difficult to get around in the summertime, and there would certainly be no shortage of mosquitoes either.
When approaching Onkamo, the forested hills on neighbor’s side grew, and it was nice to photograph them as backgrounds. The forested hills of our own were also already widening, embroided by gaps. It was time to go to the road leading to the cottage reserved for the rest day and leave for a moment the capercaillies mocking in the tree tops and grouses flying off by the feet. We take revanchism.
-Jukka
