Amy Carlsen
Lying in the tundra miles north of the Arctic Circle, the sun shines warmly on my face. The autumn air smells fresh and crisp. If I listen closely, I can hear the distant tweet of birds and wind whistling over the fells. This is what I’ve learned to look forward to on every hike: a slow moment to rest.
Around me, others lie flat on their backs, spread out across the ground. In the U.S., passing hikers might assume something was wrong with our group and pause to check in. But in Finland, lying quietly in the tundra after your noontime meal is perfectly normal. I drift off to sleep, feeling miles away from my hectic life in Seattle.
Resting in the tundra. Photo by Kristy Glaze.
The journey
Before finding myself in Finland, I had been feeling a gnawing sense of unrest in my life. This Global Adventures opportunity felt like my chance at a reprieve. The trip met all my criteria: moderate daily hikes of seven to 12 miles with low elevation gain, a warm bed to sleep in every night, and a chance to unplug from the world. And so, with my passport, sturdy boots, and ample gear, I embarked on the adventure.
After sixteen hours of travel and a day of recovering from jetlag in Helsinki, our group of Mountaineers came together. When the bus pulled up to our cabin in Hossa National Park, our guide, Petri, was waiting. A calm and quiet man, Petri would be with us for the entirety of this ten-day trip, serving as our hike leader, naturalist, breakfast chef, and informer on the culture and ways of the Finnish people. As twelve chatty Americans landed in the cabin that first night after a very long day of travel, I wondered what he thought of us. The group’s lively energy, and the beautiful scenery, made me hopeful that these ten days in Finland would assuage my unrest.
Hiking Hossa National Park. Photo by Kristy Glaze.
Hiking in Finland
Over the next few days, I discovered the joys of Finland’s unfamiliar landscape. Most of Finland is at sea level and north of 60 degrees latitude, roughly the same latitude as Anchorage, Alaska. Instead of towering mountains, Finland is covered with rolling hills and over 168,000 clear-blue lakes. You can’t go far without encountering one of these lakes, and Finnish lore has it that drinking directly from their streams brings good luck. Four of us indulged. The water was clean, cool, and refreshing.
More than 10,000 years ago, glaciers carved through Finland, their slow retreat leaving ridges of rock and debris called esker. Hiking along the top of these esker ridges in the Hossa National Park was a new experience. On both sides of the ridge, land sloped downward, marking paths where the glacier made its retreat years ago.
As we traveled north of the Arctic Circle, we also hiked over fells, which literally translates to “mountain roots.” These fells are the result of gradual erosion of the mountains over thousands of years. Hiking the fells proved more challenging than expected as their appearance was quite deceiving. They looked like they had low elevation, but we kept summiting one fell only to be met by another.
I was used to hiking in the Pacific Northwest for the incredible views attained through hard work, steep elevation gain, and rocky paths. In Finland, the trails were soft and boggy amid scenes of peaceful lakes, curious reindeer, and sweeping plains. The pace set by Petri was slow, so the hike was more about the journey than the destination. We experienced this slower pace in other aspects of the hike, too: while eating lunch around the fire, watching free-range reindeer meander, and enjoying moments of silence as we stopped to listen to a babbling stream. What we experienced was beauty in simplicity.
A lesson in slowing down
All in all, we hiked approximately 70 miles through three of Finland’s forty-one national parks. I came to Finland frazzled and lacking the joy I once found through hiking. What I discovered was an opportunity to slow down.
Everything about hiking in Finland is a lesson in appreciating slowness: the lakes encourage you to take the time to enjoy a cool drink or a dip after a hot sauna; the berries and mushrooms along the trail inspire you to pause and pick them; even the terrain is the result of the slow process of time.
I was forced to embrace this slowness on an even deeper level when I tested positive for Covid halfway through the trip. After three days of total rest, I joined the group for the last hike.
Blueberries and lingonberries. Photo by Amy Carlsen.
The final miles
There is a Finnish saying, “Happiness is not found by searching, but by living.” And so, I heed these words as I find myself totally relaxed, asleep in the autumn sun. After a restful moment, Petri calls us back for the closing miles of our final hike together.
As I prepare to head back to my hectic day-to-day life, I vow to remember this lesson learned in Finland. So much of nature reminds me of the unhurried process of time. I see it in the changing of the seasons, smell it in the fresh scent of the pines, and feel it in the soft earthy soil beneath my feet. May I appreciate this beautiful simplicity. There is so much to experience when we slow down.
Interested in your own international experience? We have a number of Global Adventures trips led by experienced volunteers to help you explore the world. For more information, visit mountaineers.org/globaladventures.
This article originally appeared in our spring 2025 issue of Mountaineer magazine. To view the original article in magazine form and read more stories from our publication, visit our magazine archive.
