Ski Tour from Kilpisjärvi to the Summit of Halti

A ski tour in the wilderness of Käsivarsi Lapland offers an unforgettable adventure where skiers experience the sparkle of the spring sun, the grandeur of the mountains, and the tranquility of the wild. The route through the challenging landscapes of Käsivarsi demands meticulous planning and endurance, but rewards with unique experiences and a profound connection to nature.

At Helsinki Central Station, it is easy to pull a heavy sled behind you, especially with wheels attached underneath this time. I board the VR night train to Rovaniemi, aiming to reach the summit of Halti in Kilpisjärvi. I stow my gear under the bed in the sleeping compartment and hang my skis on the coat hooks. Then, lying on the bed, I review my travel plans once more. On the Kalotti Trail, it's essential to be well-versed in the routes and overnight spots.

Traveling by a combination of train and bus is the best way to get to Lapland. Driving would leave me exhausted upon arrival, and flying with heavy winter gear can be costly. Moreover, venturing into pristine wilderness is best done as sustainably as possible.

After dinner, I comfortably rest in bed. I savor the relaxation, as the upcoming days will be filled with long hours of skiing. The next morning, I have coffee at the Rovaniemi station before the bus departs towards the Three-Country Cairn at Kilpisjärvi. The journey is a delight, taking in snowy landscapes, and as we head further north, the mountains grow ever more impressive. In the Käsivarsi region, I revel in the highest peaks of the trip, while the spring sun shines brightly in the sky.

In April, daylight extends well into the evening, but instead of heading straight into the wilderness from Kilpisjärvi, I first check into a guesthouse. This way, I can make last-minute purchases, scout the start of the route, and ensure that the weather is suitable.

The following morning, under fair skies, I set off on a roughly twenty-kilometer ski trek toward the Saarijärvi hut. When I arrive in the afternoon, firefighters are there installing smoke detectors. They share that they often have to rescue hikers in trouble out in the snow. It's a good reminder that cell phone coverage is nearly non-existent in these remote parts of Lapland.

The new hut in Saarijärvi's open landscape is nearly empty, except for a few overnight guests. Throughout the week, I notice that the paid reservation huts are often full, while the wilderness huts remain quieter. A sturdy four-season tent is a crucial piece of safety equipment for anyone, just in case you can't make it to a hut in time.

Routines dictate life on the ski tour and in the huts. While the water heats on the gas stove, I hang my sleeping bag outside in the frosty air and pack my gear in the sled. The daily routines consume a lot of time, which is why I've sorted my clothing, food, and other supplies into different colored bags for easy access when packing them into two bags for the sled. Meal planning is crucial, and on a winter trek, you should not forget the increased energy needs. Meals need to be quick to prepare, tasty, and nutritious under all conditions.

Desserts and coffee keep spirits and energy levels high when facing a full day of skiing with the sled. I keep nuts, dried fruit, and a water bottle in my pockets for the long uphill stretches. Hot drinks and a thermos full of food are kept easily accessible in the sled bag.

My sled glides well over flat terrain, but the mountainous sections present challenges. Climbing skins assist on ascents and slow the sled down on steep descents. After strenuous skiing at Kuonjarjoki, the view of the Meeko Valley opens up before me. It's called the country's only "mountain range", where rocky and steep cliff faces rise dramatically in the snowy landscape of Meekonjärvi and Skádjajávri.

Closer up, I can see a rare highland birch forest spreading out along the waters. Climbing the 830-meter-high Saivaara, with its distinctive silhouette, will have to wait until my return, as I'm too exhausted from the long day's skiing.

After a night spent in the stunning valley, I ski in the early afternoon to the empty hut at Pihtsusjärvi. Outside, a tent pitched by some nature guide students stands, and on the roof, a pair of ptarmigans watch the arrival of spring. The scene feels celebratory, with the majestic mountains glowing in the sun over Pihtsusjärvi. To the west, Govddosgáisi, Finland's fourth-highest mountain, rises over 1200 meters.

I find a hole drilled into the meter-thick ice, just wide enough to scoop drinking water into a bucket with a long ladle. I'm glad I don't have to melt snow for water.

In the evening, the tent village grows as a guided group aiming for Halti arrives. I cook inside the hut and chat with the campers warming up by the stove. It's fascinating how people who meet randomly in the wilderness often strike up conversations, give each other route advice, or exchange weather observations. Does nature bring out this friendliness?

The next morning, I face a choice: either continue to the Halti hut and stay overnight there or leave my gear here and make a twenty-kilometer round trip to the summit. I choose the latter, as today the wind blows from the north, and the Halti hut is said to be crowded. After a couple of hours of skiing, I have a hot soup standing on my skis and begin the climb to Finland's highest mountain. As I ascend, snowfall intensifies, visibility decreases meter by meter, and the wind howls against my face. The cold bites harder than at any point on the journey so far. I press on but turn back just before the summit when conditions worsen, and the chill seeps under my thermal layers.

After many days, I briefly have cell service and quickly send a text home. Then comes a long descent straight to the Halti hut, where I warm up with snowmobilers, eat, and have good coffee before heading back.

Skiing in fluctuating winds, I return to the Meeko hut after another night at Pihtsusjärvi. The empty hut offers a chance to rest before it fills with other trekkers. The first arrivals are two Dutch snowshoers. When three more kite-surfers show up, I know I'll need earplugs for the night in this small hut.

Rested, I'm ready for the climb up Saivaara next morning. The views leave me speechless again, with a snowy valley shining in the spring sun that, according to a commemorative plaque, even former President Urho Kekkonen once admired. On the slope, I spot the only reindeer of the entire trip, and while I sit in the snow for lunch, I hear a swoosh above me. I grab my camera just in time to capture a white-tailed eagle. Was it checking out my lunch? The journey continues off the route, guided by compass and map, until I return to the Kalotti Trail, where two women from Oulu ask me to take their picture. Funny enough, I'd met them a year earlier on the Hetta-Pallas route, and photos were taken then, too.

I spend one more night at the Kuonjarjoki hut before starting the final leg. Navigation near Saarijärvi becomes easy when the Saana mountain guides the way back to Kilpisjärvi. I take a shortcut through Norway, and then the last kilometers are a delightful downhill glide. In these final hours, I savor the glorious, dazzling spring sun and the snow of Lapland's wilderness, leaving a lasting impression in my mind after this 120 km long trip.