Stormwatching in Evo, Finland
We had been planning a some sort of a winter expedition for a while and ultimately chose Evo, as it was relatively close and we could meet halfway in Hämeenlinna, from where to continue our journey towards Lammi and finally Evo. It was forecast, that a huge snowstorm named Valtteri would blow over the Evo area on 29.1. and we'd be in a prime spot to witness it. The storm was a coincidence, we didn't plan our trip around it, but as I enjoy new and unusual experiences, I wholeheartedly welcomed the storm with gleeful curiosity.
Our first stop was Valkea Mustajärvi (literally White Blacklake). We parked our car close by, as there was already quite a bit of snow and we didn't manage to score ourselves snowshoes from the rentals, meaning we had to trudge in knee-high snow to get to our camping site. Valkea Mustajärvi is located pretty much in the middle of the whole Evo area. The lean-to shelter has been renovated very recently (2021 maybe?), but the new kota-shaped shelter was not optimal for overnighting in winter. It's too open, there's no platform to insulate one from the ground and the Kaskinuotio fire box, while a nice system for cooking, did not simply exude enough heat to keep us warm. We used our own insulation materials, had good quality sleeping pads and winter sleeping bags advertised as providing comfort until -15°C, but we still got cold during the night, on which the temperature went as low as -14°C. We grilled some pike-perch with leek and potatoes, seasoned with pinch salt.
All-in-all, Valkea Mustajärvi was a nice place, even if not perfectly suitable for extremely cold nights. On the next day, we went to check out the primeval forest of Kotinen, situated in the northwestern part of Evo. One could instantly see how different it looked, with more and more fallen and rotting wood on the ground, although most forests look similar when there's a blanket of snow everywhere. Still, there was an atmosphere unlike I've ever experienced, a certain kind of stillness and sacredness, that cannot be experienced in regular forests. Visit to Kotinen made me a bit sad, knowing how rare such environments are becoming in Finland. Of all forests, only around 12% are protected and less than 5% are in primeval condition, with only 1% of protected primeval forest in the southern parts of the country. There is also a semantic dimension to this tragedy, as forests older than 100 years are considered to be primeval, but in reality, forests can take anywhere from 150 to 500 years to return into a primeval state after being cut.
After Kotinen, we did a quick visit to Niemisjärvi, only to realize it was packed with people, so we opted for another solution, moving towards Syrjänalunen, knowing the lean-to shelter there was a proper shelter, unlike the one we spent the night before. There was a storm brewing, so it was crucial to have a proper shelter.
The shelter at Syrjänalunen was situated between the edge of the forest and a tall esker, giving it a strong sense of liminality. We put on a fire, cooked food and had some coffee. Few fellow travelers sat with us, talking about the upcoming storm and anything of interest really. We fixed a tarp on the ceiling of the shelter just in case, as this time the fire pit gave out enough heat to start melting the snow on top of the shelter and we did not want to end up with a wet sleeping place in freezing temperatures. The only downside was a vole, that managed to get into my companion's backpack. We saw it run under the shelter and it started nibbling around in our bags when we went to sleep, even with the precautions we had taken, trying to lift our foodstuffs off the platform.
The night wasn't as cold as the night before, reaching to only few degrees below zero. The snowstorm was an amazing sight. It felt like the entire world around would disappear, there being nothing else but the shelter, the fire and endless grey void around us. One could not literally see more than one meter ahead. The night felt completely unreal, I am sure this experience will stay with me for a long time. I went looking for a transformative experience, and that it truly was.
The next morning we were greeted with a completely new, utterly white world. It had snowed close to 30 centimeters of snow during the night and as we worked our way out from the forest, there were places where the snow would reach our midriffs. The feeling of walking through heavy snow for myself is at the very crux of what winter is all about. I love snow and winter and felt exhilarated and blessed for having experienced all this on a single trip.
Our trip to Evo was not the first time I've been camping out during the winter, but it was so far the coldest and the most rich in snow. There's a certain difference in one's mental headspace when camping out in the winter, a certain seriousness, when you know that failure to find shelter can prove to be fatal, especially if travelling without companions. Water supplies and food will freeze and fire is your lifeline. I'm already looking forward to my next trip.