The morning is picture perfect as I leave the hostel in Tampere, not a cloud in the sky, a perfect day for a bike ride. Not more than 50 yards into the day I hear a thump, then grating, then a sudden lightness of load. The wagon has detached. Fortunately, this occurs on a sidewalk early in the morning. I retrieve the wagon and make sure it is secure. About a mile later while crossing a busy street, I hear a snap. I look behind. The flag that carries the Riding with Reindeer Expedition flag has snapped off at the base. The flag, which has flown proudly since it was raised on the Åland Islands, lays in the middle of the street. I cannot retrieve it until the light changes. Big trucks and cars deftly steer around it and over it, avoiding smashing it with tires. When the light changes, I race out to the middle of the street and retreive the flag, strap it onto the carrier with bungee cords, and hope for no more mishaps.
After leaving town, the path enters a big wooded park. I followed this for several miles through birch and pine forests, past ponds with lilly pads until I come to a lake at a place called Rustholi. I have been following National Bike Route 9, but once again a sign pointing out the appropriate direction is no where to be seen. I know I have to follow the lake and head in a northeasternly direction, so I pick my way through a tangle of dirt paths until I find the trail again. For the rest of the afternoon, I travel on dirt roads winding through pastoral and hilly countryside dotted with lakes and farms. At one point, the path is no more than a rutted wagon track. It is slow going. My tires can't get a solid grip on loose gravel. On steep grades I walk. By 2 pm I am worn out and decide to stop at the lovely Saynäniemi campground about 6 kms south of the village of Orvesi.
After I register for my spot, a woman standing nearby asks in English if she can interview me. This is Kati Kääkkonen, a feature writer and photographter for the local Orevidian newspaper. I think it is a slow news day. I guess she decided to hang around the campground and wait for a feature idea to roll in. She asks what brought me to this part of Finland and whether I am lonely on such a long journey. I tell her that every day brings some new adventure and that loneliness is not an issue yet. If anything, I tell her, I hope the onslaught of adventures slows down a bit. We have a nice chat, then she takes a bunch of pictures of me posing by my bike. She says she will try to e-mail me a copy of the article.
I spend the rest of the afternoon lounging in the campground outdoor cafe, nursing a couple of Karjala beers. By early mid-evening, the clouds have moved in and rain begins to fall. I climb into the tent, kill off a few slow-moving mosquitos, listen a bit to the BBC, then try to sleep. I am awakened by something gnawing away at my neck and by other things crawling around on my arms and legs. A monster bug, some sort of half beetle, half fly with bulbous eyes and metalic skin is loose in my sleeping bag. A battalion of tiny little mosquitos buzz around overhead. I fumble for my headlamp, then grope to catch the monster which hops around sacks of clothes stashed haphazardly in the tent. I finally corner it on the edge of my sleeping bag and pummel it with my fists. It will not die, though I finally stunned it enough to whisk it out of the tent. Then, I battle the mosquitos, a different breed than the sluggish ones encountered earlier. These guys are like commandos, striking then disappearing. The battle rages for about half an hour before I think I get them all. I do not sleep well on this night.
After leaving town, the path enters a big wooded park. I followed this for several miles through birch and pine forests, past ponds with lilly pads until I come to a lake at a place called Rustholi. I have been following National Bike Route 9, but once again a sign pointing out the appropriate direction is no where to be seen. I know I have to follow the lake and head in a northeasternly direction, so I pick my way through a tangle of dirt paths until I find the trail again. For the rest of the afternoon, I travel on dirt roads winding through pastoral and hilly countryside dotted with lakes and farms. At one point, the path is no more than a rutted wagon track. It is slow going. My tires can't get a solid grip on loose gravel. On steep grades I walk. By 2 pm I am worn out and decide to stop at the lovely Saynäniemi campground about 6 kms south of the village of Orvesi.
After I register for my spot, a woman standing nearby asks in English if she can interview me. This is Kati Kääkkonen, a feature writer and photographter for the local Orevidian newspaper. I think it is a slow news day. I guess she decided to hang around the campground and wait for a feature idea to roll in. She asks what brought me to this part of Finland and whether I am lonely on such a long journey. I tell her that every day brings some new adventure and that loneliness is not an issue yet. If anything, I tell her, I hope the onslaught of adventures slows down a bit. We have a nice chat, then she takes a bunch of pictures of me posing by my bike. She says she will try to e-mail me a copy of the article.
I spend the rest of the afternoon lounging in the campground outdoor cafe, nursing a couple of Karjala beers. By early mid-evening, the clouds have moved in and rain begins to fall. I climb into the tent, kill off a few slow-moving mosquitos, listen a bit to the BBC, then try to sleep. I am awakened by something gnawing away at my neck and by other things crawling around on my arms and legs. A monster bug, some sort of half beetle, half fly with bulbous eyes and metalic skin is loose in my sleeping bag. A battalion of tiny little mosquitos buzz around overhead. I fumble for my headlamp, then grope to catch the monster which hops around sacks of clothes stashed haphazardly in the tent. I finally corner it on the edge of my sleeping bag and pummel it with my fists. It will not die, though I finally stunned it enough to whisk it out of the tent. Then, I battle the mosquitos, a different breed than the sluggish ones encountered earlier. These guys are like commandos, striking then disappearing. The battle rages for about half an hour before I think I get them all. I do not sleep well on this night.
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