Finland at -35°C, 200km above the Arctic Circle — and the power of saying yes

By Sue from Adventurous Ewe

Five days.

That’s all the notice I had before heading to Lapland for the Finland Arctic Challenge — 200km above the Arctic Circle. Five days to dust off the Arctic kit, calm the nerves and, once again, decide that saying yes was absolutely the right call.

One of the quiet perks of a life spent adventuring is that the kit cupboard is usually ready. I reused trusted layers from previous cold-weather trips — no last-minute purchases, just solid gear that’s already proved itself. Every adventure leaves you better prepared for the next one. 

This one came via two brilliant women I’m hugely grateful to — Riitta, who I first met back in 2013 at a multi-stage ultra, and Nic, who I met on an Adventurous Ewe trip in 2025. Add in seeing Roberto again (we first crossed paths in the Gobi Desert over a decade ago), and suddenly it felt like one of those wonderful adventure reunions where you just pick up where you left off and crack on.

We gathered in Ylläs — snow-heavy trees, bluebird skies, that crisp Arctic light that makes everything look cinematic. Twenty of us from thirteen different countries came together for a week of snowshoeing, running, backcountry skiing, fat biking and dog sledding around the fells of Finnish Lapland. A solid briefing and proper gear check kicked things off. Essential when temperatures are sitting at -25°C… and sometimes dropping even lower and the very remote route ahead.

Stage One: Snowshoes, saunas and an Arctic welcome

Our first big day was snowshoeing on Aakenus Fell — around 17km in biting wind and wide, exposed terrain. The kind of cold that finds any gap in your clothing within seconds. No skin left uncovered. The wind whipping across the ridge. Proper Arctic conditions. It was tough and utterly brilliant — the sort of day that reminds you exactly why saying yes is the right answer.

That evening we arrived at a traditional lumberjack cabin. No electricity. No running water. Candlelight. Water carried in buckets. It felt like stepping into another era.

Our host Maria cooked over an open fire, explaining that her father had hunted the moose we she carefully cooked and that the berries had been gathered locally. Everything sourced from the surrounding land. It was simple, honest and incredibly grounding. Travel has a way of shrinking the world and deepening your appreciation all at once.

And then came the initiation.

Wood-fired sauna. As hot as you can stand. Then outside — in the snow — to an ice hole carved through the thick river ice. A ladder disappearing into inky black water below. 

You heat up. You dash. You gasp as you fully submerge. You climb out quickly before your skin even thinks about sticking to frozen metal ladder. Then you sprint back to the sauna, laughing, swearing, adrenaline buzzing and skin tingling.

What a lifestyle. Loved it!

 

Stage Two: Run day (the one that had me slightly concerned)

This was the day that had been niggling at me before I left — a choice of roughly 25km or 36km route in Arctic conditions. I kept thinking, how on earth am I going to do 25km, let alone out here?

The answer was simple: one steady step at a time, shared with three other amazing ladies.

I started with Nic and finished with YanYan and Alice. Somewhere along the route, worry gave way to rhythm. Snow-covered roads. Soft snow trails (absolutely brutal in places). A midway Arctic tent with a fire and boiling water. You can’t really beat that as an aid station.

By the time we reached Peurakaltio Wilderness Cabin, hot berry drinks and homemade savoury pie tasted like the greatest reward on earth. That night the Northern Lights danced across the sky in green and red ribbons. A truly perfect adventure day.

Stage Three: Backcountry skiing at -35°C

The temperature dropped to -35°C the next morning. The sort of cold where you throw hot water into the air and it turns instantly to ice crystals.

I’d never skied before. But under bright blue skies and through snow-laden trees, I found myself learning quickly. A few wobbles. A couple of tumbles. Then suddenly I was off-piste in pristine snow, stopping at a remote cabin where Riitta had organised sausages over the fire (mustard included — morale booster of champions).

We visited a Sámi sacred site and stood on a frozen lake thick enough to drive a car across. Another epic day and I think I may have found a new favourite winter sport. There’s something very childlike and freeing about skiing off-piste between trees, ducking under branches, sending snow showers into the air. 

Back to the cabins for more warming hot berry drinks, freshly made pies and of course, another sauna.

Stage Four: Dog sledding

If you want to witness pure joy, watch huskies at -30°C. This is their element.

After a thorough briefing, Nic and I shared a sled — one driving, one riding — over a 20km route through beautiful snowy forests and open meadows. One foot on the brake does very little. Two feet slows things down slightly. The dogs excitment was contageous.

It was exhilarating and humbling in equal measure. Back at base we learned about how the huskies are cared for, their personalities, their history. It’s not just an activity — it’s a way of life.

Stage Five: Fat biking

Our final night was spent at another historic cabin. Five of us camped in an Arctic tent at -30°C with a central stove that became the most important object in our world. At 3am the cold crept in. At 5am Laura heroically added another log. We avoided turning into frozen yetis.

Fat biking the next day was…rather entertaining. The group quickly found their pacing in smaller groups – Nic riding strong at the front and I drifted to the back. The first 6km on soft, fresh snow took over two and a half hours. Falling off repeatedly is one thing. Getting back up from sinking snow in snow boots and multiple layers is another. But cycling alongside Jane from Scotland, Alice from Hong Kong and Aariz from the US bringing up the rear meant constant laughter — and possibly a bit of colourful language.

The second half on groomed trails? We flew. Straight to a café for a peppermint liqueur hot chocolate. Another perfect ending.

We finished in Levi with hot showers (and frozen shampoo — Arctic glamour at its finest), a final Finnish feast and ‘warm handshakes’ galour. Some were heading home early the next morning. Nic & I stayed for an additional day of exploring the snowy slopes and learning more about the Sami, the indigenous people of the North, at Samiland which is part of the UNESCO Observatory Cultural Village programme. Keep an eye out for our upcoming Blog on the Sami, their life, their traditional occupations and ancient mythical characters.

Why it mattered

Finland completely stole my heart. But more than that, this week reminded me why saying yes matters.

These experiences don’t come because you’re elite or fearless. They come because you stay reasonably fit, remain open, and step forward when an opportunity appears. Most of all, they come because of people — friendships formed on mountains, in deserts, on new trails.

At -35°C, 200km above the Arctic Circle, in one of the most raw and beautiful landscapes I’ve ever experienced, I had one of the best adventures of my life.

And it started with five days’ notice and a simple yes.

If this has even slightly sparked something in you, we’re running our own Finland Arctic Challenge next year. You can find all the details here:
https://www.adventurousewe.co.uk/trip/finland-arctic-challenge/

Maybe it’s your turn to say yes.