I’m writing about this year’s van trip a bit belatedly, as writing during the journey and editing photos takes its own time.

This entry comes from a spring-warm valley in Northern Norway. The leaves have already burst into their splendor, and the temperature is hovering around twenty degrees. After weeks of traveling through snow and rain, it feels incredibly pleasant. However, let’s return for a moment to early May and the starting point of the journey.

The van trip began right at the start of May, just on the cusp of summer. Although it’s hard to call May a summer month in Lapland, the journey is still about traveling during the summer season. For now, that doesn’t bother two eager travelers.

We drove to Lemmenjoki National Park for our first night, still covered in winter. The silence of nature amidst the fog is almost tangible. The mountain ridges lie dormant under the snow and blue mist. We park in an empty lot, which, judging by the snowy tracks, has been deserted for a while. The July tourist traffic feels like a distant memory. Here, we can be completely at peace with ourselves.

I was about to grab a kuksa full of water from the nearby mountain stream while brushing my teeth, but I noticed a fresh reindeer carcass collapsed by the water's edge and pulled the kuksa back. Generally, the water is drinkable in almost all streams and rivers throughout Lapland, but you still have to be cautious. Luckily, we have our own supply of water. It’s better to start the journey with healthy stomachs.

The temperature drops below freezing, and we dig out sleeping bags from the van along with our blankets, but the night still goes by cold as we adjust to a new bed. Breakfast is enjoyed in silence, with a slight shiver. The deserted Lemmenjoki National Park feels like it’s still in its winter slumber.

We continue our journey to Inari, which is engulfed in beautiful May fog. Lake Inari, often referred to as the sea of Lapland, is still thickly frozen, although patches of bare ground are already peeking through as a sign of spring along the edges of the roads. It’s quiet and deserted everywhere. We spend half the day driving along empty roads and capturing the dreamily beautiful, misty lake landscapes.

I’m filming the river running alongside the road in a drizzle with the drone, which carves its path down in the valley below. I’m about to fly back to the car, my fingers a bit numb and slightly anxious about how the copter will handle the May chill of the water while gliding in the air when thud. The copter bumps into the top of the tallest pine and gets stuck, hanging there by one of its wings.

Local attraction. Spot the copter in the middle of the picture.

The drone stayed in the scenic spot, admiring the misty mountain and the river. Its camera worked for a moment before I shut the device down. We estimated that the copter was about 12 meters high, nearly at the top of a straight, branchless pine. It took us quite a while to contemplate how we would even attempt to get it down.

We drove through the villages of Inari and Ivalo, stopping at all the open shops from the hotel to three stores and a fishing equipment shop. Every seller and local we asked for help was incredibly helpful and friendly, but reaching that 12-meter height felt like an almost impossible task.

The drone chose a beautiful scenic spot to get stuck.

We spent the night at the parking lot by Jäniskoski, waiting for the rain to stop. Fortunately, there was no rush, and home travels with us. The copter had to hang alone in the rainy pine tree for the night.

The next day, based on a tip we received from the store in Inari, we found Puuha-Kari, a local equipment rental company, from whose yard we discovered a pile of idle electrical pipes. We were able to borrow long ladders and a handful of pipes, which we crafted into an absurdly long pipe with tape, using it to poke the drone down from the tree. After a couple of hours of tinkering, the drone surprisingly fell into the snow, still operational. Huge thanks once again to Puuha-Kari (and all the other locals in Inari) for their help, tips, and empathetic advice ❤️

Inari's brief stop turned into a two-day drone rescue operation, but fortunately, there’s flexibility in the trip. With the chilly copter in the front seat, we continued our journey further north to Utsjoki.

Last summer, I spent a night in June in the van on top of Ailigas Mountain in Utsjoki. I really wanted to visit there again now, but the May road to the mountain (which, by the way, is a private road requiring a special use permit that can be obtained from the Utsjoki village house, Giisa) was still completely covered in snow. It would be a while before we could access it by car.

The van was left at the foot of the mountain while we went for an evening walk in the hills. The birds were holding their spring concert in the leafless mountain birch groves, and the snow was melting with a rush, but sneakers were unfortunately the wrong choice for conquering a May mountain, and they got soaked. Still, the landscape is beautiful. The blue-hued mountains on the Norwegian side, the slowly melting Tenojoki River, and the warm, brown-toned mountain birches are starkly rugged yet gently enchanting.

We continued our journey for the night to Nuorgam, the northernmost village in Finland, just on the cusp of the midnight sun. The midnight sun would begin shining here on the crown of Finland in three days. Even now, it illuminates the landscape, with no darkness in sight, although the sun briefly dips behind the mountains on the Norwegian side around midnight.

We spent the night by the Teno River, right next to the main road, but we were able to enjoy a peaceful evening. The passing cars could be counted on one hand. The river ice was still firmly in place, although a summer-foretelling meltwater channel was already flowing in its center. The thick ice released a biting cold air across the treeless expanses of Utsjoki, even as the sun shone promisingly warm from the blue sky.

From here, we will continue our journey into Norway, and we will most likely return to Finland only in June.

I’ll continue writing about the trip soon. Next up are the endless and snowy mountain plateaus of Northern Norway (thankfully we set off with winter tires), a small taste of spring warmth and the turquoise Arctic Ocean in Lyngen, and a rainy, chilly adventure through the Lofoten Islands.

See you soon, sending lots of warmth and hugs!

♥ Sanna