The joys and surprises while exploring the unfamiliar.
It was a lovely autumn, and we were in Finland. We did not plan our trip to be a cycling holiday, but since the places we visited had remarkable bicycle infrastructure, we used bikes to get around and see more than we could on foot.
It was not just about seeing more places than when walking; it was also about feeling more than when sitting in a car or on public transit. There was the fresh air to smell, the ambient soundscapes to listen to, and the various surfaces to find traction on. Happy days.
The most impressive bike highways we saw were in Oulu, so naturally, we wanted to try them. While finding a bike rental wasn't as straightforward as elsewhere, we eventually scored. Still, the bike selection for anyone tall was rather nonexistent, and I walked away with a retro single-speed. I didn't mind, though; the smooth roads and the lack of big hills nearby suggested the lack of gears shouldn't be a problem. Let's!
After seeing bits of the city, I also desired to explore what the region is like beyond its built-up areas. I got my way and quickly planned a loop into the countryside. It started raining, but it was no bother. All was well with waterproof jackets and roads like these:
The route promptly delivered just what we hoped for: atmospheric lakes linked by great paths regardless of the surface.
Moreover, in between the lakes were lush woods with a saturated forest floor, adorned with magnificent boulders.
It was as if there was a thick green carpet, sliced only by the occasional water canals and a network of trails, which we made good use of.
As we continued, the ground became softer.
I didn't let what appeared to be a small muddy section worry me; however, the soft surface kept sinking with every meter. I thought about Scotland, where trails also turned into a bog from time to time, but there it was always only a matter of moments before they got firm again. "Surely, it will get better here, too," I thought. Yet, soon we ended up riding through what looked like one of the canals we saw before. The terrain that had no love for bicycles; as the path turned into a lake extension, the picturesque ride turned into hiking.
I checked the map, but hey, we were spot on the trail. What the heck? We were already quite far in the loop, and neither of us fancied going back the same way we came. We gambled to push through, but deeper in the trail, deeper into the water. Finally, the hope to keep dry feet left altogether. The mood was far from celebratory, so I picked up both our bikes on my shoulders to prevent one from being thrown at my head.
Together, we conquered and found a solid road again. Thank goodness.
All is well that ends well, and well it was! We found a lovely picnic spot, with some fab hiking trails behind it. So after snacks, we saw splendid vistas that healed my planning wounds.
Still, when we returned to the city, still caked in a sticky reminder of our adventure, I wondered what went wrong.
Once at the hotel, I browsed different maps and found that we were on a "winter-only" path. "Of course! When all is frozen solid, it must feel like a highway," I thought. Yet, not seeing this beforehand and living in places where the weather wouldn't allow it prevented me from thinking about it. "Another reminder that the world does not work the same for everyone," I concluded, grateful for traveling and the many reflection opportunities it offers.
Thanks for reading! If you've liked this post, you can also check more in the Blog Archives.
Comments are closed.