Finland Wilderness Training, Sunday Day 1 - Part 2

Sitting in the warmth of the minibus a couple of hours later with my head resting against the glass and having fun spotting the Christmas lights in the windows of the houses we pass, I think about the week ahead.  The last time I got involved with winter training activities it resulted in a slipped disk having been dropped (on purpose) down a steep slope on Ben Nevis with only a couple of ice axes which I was supposed to use to stop my fall.   This time though, the activities agenda was intended to be a little gentler with a bit of cross country skiing, some dog sledding and an afternoon of ice-climbing planned.  It’s a long drive to Basecamp from Oulu, three and a half hours, and by the time we get there I am desperate for the loo (again) and am feeling a rising wave of travel sickness from sitting in the back of the bus.   It is very dark and very snowy and having passed the local-to-Base camp metropolis (I josh) that is Ruka I hope we are close. If there is anything worse than being desperate for the loo for the second time in a day, it is being desperate for the loo at the same time as being desperate not to vomit.  Just as I rise from my seat ready to tap the driver on the shoulder and somehow communicate to him that I need to find a nice patch of Finnish snow to sully with the remains of that morning’s sandwich I see the welcoming sign of some lights through the trees and we turn at last into camp.  My apologies at this point to the very friendly camp staff who saw only the fleeting shape of an English who ignored their warm welcome and headed for the bathroom.  That was me.

When at last I appear, slightly more composed, I find everyone in the dining room tucking into supper.  It is the start of a regular appearance on the menu by Mr. Elk and just to make sure I like it as much as I think I do, I have seconds.   The warmth of the fire in the dining room, some good food and a glass of Loganberry squash significantly help with the return of my power of speech.

There is a small team of staff at Basecamp, usually only three or four, and who are mostly young and smile a lot.  After supper and when it is clear that the nightmare of our journey is beginning to recede, we are introduced to the itinerary for the morning which involves picking up our arctic kit and equipment before the first activity which is to head out onto the frozen lake and then up to the mill.  We are given some clear directions on things that are different when you are out for any length of time in what can be quite extreme conditions.  We are told not to shower in the mornings, not to put on face cream or even to wash our face, and not to shave (if you are a man, that is) as any moisture on exposed skin can lead to frostbite patches.  I decide being dirty but frostbite-free definitely gets my vote.  After the talk and a few minutes later, in my tiny wooden-clad cabin room, I lay in bed with the quilt up to my chin with my socks still on, yet shivering.  I put a second quilt on the bed and then get up again and pile my coat on top of it and hope to God I’m not going down with something.

See the Finland photos on the gallery.