Laenlampi Ranch, Tiainen – 3,552km completed
The day ahead didn’t look especially challenging – reasonably flat, and wind likely to be from behind. It was all on the same E75 though, which had been grotty the afternoon before. Sat there, eating my breakfast supplies, I was troubled by the idea of another 200km of fast traffic and close passes. There was at least a fresh brew, courtesy of a cafetiere and pack of ground coffee supplied by the owners. It was worth the effort of preparing and cleaning up afterwards. Although the latter did highlight a more immediate challenge of the day. Stood in flip flops and cycle shorts at the outside sink I was shivering. Even in the tent I’d noticed that the night had become more than chilly, and as I powered up the Garmin it confirmed the temperature as a baltic 1 celsius. It didn’t just feel freezing – it nearly was. Given the conditions, the hut was surprisingly warm. So I hustled back inside to gear up more warmly before wheeling the rig back up the path, visiting the composting loo on my way past, and topping up my water bottle at the designated tap as I crossed the lawn.
Maybe it was apparent rather than real – but the temperature seemed to lift a degree or two once away from the misty shore of the lake. And once I got rolling, it didn’t take long for the activity to warm me up from the inside. Even with decent lined gloves it took some time before the sharp pain of the cold left my fingers completely. It was way too cold for lingering, so I just pushed on towards the first town, which at 70km away was ideally placed for a food stop. The road was mostly the same – if anything the narrow strip right of the line was even less rideable, being considerably more weathered and broken up. What I can only describe as “leftover holes” where the side rumble strip had degraded were especially nasty if you strayed into them. A rude, juddering jolt which I guess was the point of them for a car, but bone rattling on a bike. But traffic wise conditions were much better at the early hour. I barely saw a car or a truck the whole way. One sight was made even stranger by the fact it was deserted. At an apparently random point this empty, remote, highway suddenly grew an additional 2 or 3 lanes either side. For a short distance, in the middle of nowhere, it became a 6 or 8 lane express way. Clearly these were not intended as normal driving lanes – perhaps meant for long haul lorries to park up in while their drivers slept. But out of nowhere, I suddenly had a choice of multiple (if slightly broken up) lanes to ride in – all of them utterly devoid of vehicles. It was a little bizarre.
Aside from the strange, mini super highway, there’s not a lot memorable about this stretch. The low sun, which had never fully set, rose lazily again on my right hand side. The road rose gradually up and then sank down through three or four sizeable ridges and dips. I have a vague notion of a fellow rider passing me quite early on. All are now just hazy memories of that morning. I do remember being surprised to reach the outskirts of Sodankylä without seeing the guys again. Something that always surprises me with cycling is that even riders differing in speed by quite a few km/h only catch up or spread out very gradually. Either that or they had started later than planned. I passed up what was advertised as “the most northerly LIDL” before I split off route into the town proper for an actual café for real food. I did find what may have been the most northerly LEGO store, but it none of the cafes opened for at least another hour. So I ended up at a large grey warehouse with yellow signs which bucked the local naming trend, albeit only by one letter. My disappointment at not finding hot food was tempered by the imaginatively named “S-Market” being very well supplied. I got warm pizza slices and some odd looking pies, plus all the other usual supplies – annoying the checkout girl in the process by not weighing my bananas. Clearly Finnish shopping customs were different to Sweden.
Concerned I may have missed the guys with multiple possible roads through the town, I made my way back to the side of the main route. The only place offering shade from the now warming sun was a cluster of trees next to a trash compactor. Not exactly where I’d have chosen to eat, but it worked. I’d only managed one of the pies and half the pziza slice before I spotted the unmistakeable sight of Christopher’s Cannondale whizzing by. Headphones in and tucked down, he’d almost gone by before he heard my shots. Wheeling back we had a brief impromptu catchup, and a photo of me at by my breakfast spot which amused Christopher greatly. Nearly three weeks into an unsupported endurance event, there is more than a passing look of “tramp” about many riders. So a dumpster side meal was perhaps the most quintessentially accurate image of the whole ride. After our chat, Christopher headed off to find Benjamin in the town and I pushed on. Before leaving he did mention they planned a lakeside café stop and swim further on.
On my own way out of town – ironically, having been right beside a dumpster which I could not figure how to open, I needed a trash can. Eventually I pulled into an industrial estate and used a random wheely bin, under the disapproving gauge of some worker or other. He seemed to instinctively know the random pile of garbage I fished out of every pocket and bag had not been carefully sorted into its proper recycling components. Thank heavens I’d not done this one country back with the risk of Greta Thunberg seeing me. I needed a pee too, although I resisted the temptation to risk further offence by doing it there and waited until I was back out in open countryside again.
The E75/A4 was noticeably quieter and more pleasant beyond Sodankylä. I missed the first turn onto the lakeside cycle path, and on realising my mistake swung right to bump across a rough car park and a grassy verge a hundred metres further on. It was a lovely section of purpose built path through a section of nature park and I paused to message back to the guys to watch for the sign rather than stick on the main road. Sadly, this delightful part was just a short 5km detour before we rejoined the main road again at another of the many bridges across rivers and lakes. This was not all a bad thing though. A long, largely empty straight road stretched out before me. The earphones went in, and I sailed along enjoying the views, the music, and a helpful breeze from behind. The landscape had shifted subtly – flat open tundra of wet grasslands with stands of low trees in the distance. It was a complete contrast to everything so far. It struck me so much I stopped to try and photograph it – but the header photo for this entry doesn’t really capture the remote emptiness of the place.
Spying a little roadside café, I pulled over for a coffee and an ice cream, and to shed my remaining layers now the day was really heating up. I asked the owners if they minded me eating my sandwich inside as I drank the first, and then the second coffee – and they very graciously allowed me too. I have a vague recollection now that the chap running the place may in fact have been Scottish and his wife was Finnish, but I could have imagined that part. As I kitted up outside, Christopher pulled over again briefly. The spot they were heading too was just ahead so he didn’t stop long. And soon after I got rolling again, Benjamin came alongside and we rode together briefly before he also sped off towards their lunch and swim spot.
Their stop was about 15km further along – a little close for me given I had just stopped, and I also don’t really do cold water swimming. So as I rolled onto the start of yet another bridge, I waved and yelled hello down to them on the shore, already stripped down and readying for their dip. My own, final stop, for the day was at the K-Valinta attached to a gas station in Vuotso. It was a comfort to return to the normal, accepted naming convention for small shops rather than the wild departure into “S-” territory from earlier. OK, I’m joking of course – but I’ve already mentioned my preference for simple places over the more obvious locations, and this fitted the bill. I guess that’s the beauty of a ride like this. Although we’re all following the same route at the same time, the journey for each of us could be whatever we chose. For the guys it was a lakeside swim and café. For me, quiet little unassuming cafes like this one were perfect. We could each find our own groove.
I can’t remember if the lady serving had said she was a local school teacher out of holiday season, or I imagined it. But the place was a welcoming mix of locals and tourists stopping in for fuel and supplies. As I sat eating whatever sandwich or snacks I’d bought something else caught my eye which I’d noticed at yesterday’s late afternoon stop also. Squeezed in a narrow space between the loos and the ATM was a slot machine, with a steady stream of customers having a spin or two. Clearly a quick flutter is just something you do when buying gas or groceries this far north. Kitting up outside, I spoke with a group of bikers who were preparing to continue their own journey. They may have been on powerful cross country touring machines but, heavily loaded with gear and heading back from where I was going we had more in common than was immediately apparent. Except for speed that is – an obvious difference as they roared off southwards.
Just before the stop, the route had risen across up to a ridge at 325m and the profile became a lot more saw-tooth beyond. It was the first of a constant succession of punchy ramps, and dips for the remaining 40km. Vuotso was almost the last village of any size. Kakslauttanen, which I had noted on my cards, looked to be mostly a cluster of buildings alongside the river, although the “Arctic Resort” part advertised on road signs wasn’t really visible from the road. The afternoon was fading to orange as I rolled across the last couple of hills and the signs for Saariselkä began to appear. It was also a purpose built resort set back from the road – so it was also largely invisible as I turned right off the main road. Lining the first couple of curves of the service road were what seemed more traditional forest cabins, but over a small rise the resort itself came into view. It’s advertised as the most northerly ski resort in Europe. The time of year though meant that whilst some of the winter machinery was visible, it was setup more as a hiking and cycling resort. I dithered a bit before figuring my way through an area of construction to the right, and the main hotel beyond. On the way I passed all manner of outdoor shops and themed cafes – but my focus was much simpler. A room – a meal (at the hotel preferably) – and a good night’s sleep. All of which the hotel was able to provide me with ease. The lady at reception was super helpful, arranging me a packed breakfast and assuring me no reservation would be needed for the restaurant. I could just head back once I’d dropped my bike off in the room (which she was also fine with). She suggested I ride around the parking lot to get there – which turned out to be a very good idea. The hotel was vast and sprawling. The quickest way there was to cycle, which was fine except there was no shortcut back to the restaurant. The room itself was simple, and sparse, but ample. Honestly I’d read a few bad reviews before booking, but none of them matched my experience. The largely empty restaurant served me a fabulous meal – I was unable to resist trying the reindeer. I know. I know. They are lovely, but also way too tasty for me to pass up the opportunity. Apologies to the non-meat eaters out there.
On the way back to the room I wrestled with a large group of Japanese tourists through one of the many sequences of double doors in the long corridors. My mind and thoughts were elsewhere though. For the latter half of the day, all through dinner, and now on my way to bed a sort of calm happiness had begun to descend. I really had never imagined reaching this point, and now the finish line was just a couple of days away. It was all a little surreal, and it lulled me into the deepest possible sleep.