Hammocking at Repovesi, Finland
After the recent pilgrimage to the Evo forests, we already made plans to do another trip in the summer, just to get the feel of how different it is from winter camping. I have of course camped in the summer before, but all occurences have been as a part of a way bigger group, which might've been somewhat detrimental to my enjoyment. I've only relatively recently started to explore more of the local nature and a big part in my increasing interest in camping was played by actually finding travel companions who are pleasant to be around with and operate at the same philosophical wavelengths. Late night discussions around the campfire are only as good as the participants.
Our original plan was to make a week-long excursion to the Koli National Park, but due to some unseen circumstances, we had to downsize our ambitions a bit, opting for a two-nighter at the Repovesi National Park instead, which was more familiar territory. Repovesi wasn't exactly unknown for myself either, having visited there once, some 20 years ago, but the only things I could remember, were the suspension bridge of Lapinsalmi and the gorgeous gorges that cut through the forests, almost as if some antediluvian laser had torn the earth aeons ago, only for the nature to reclaim the area again. Of course, the ice age that formed these magnificent sights is as exciting explanation as anything involving lasers, but I digress.
We left on a slightly rainy Wednesday morning, got ourselves some supplies and beelined towards Lapinsalmi. We travelled some 5 kilometers towards the Kuutinkanava, which is an old lumber channel between Repovesi and Tervajärvi. After having some lunch, we begun an ambitious ascend to the towering cliffs of Kuutinlahti, powered by the sheer excitement of getting to see the entire landscape from higher ground. We continued our mountaineering towards the Mustalamminvuori observation tower, but it was starting to get a bit rainy, so we omitted the ascent to the tower and instead made our way towards Olhava, which was to be our first night's campsite.
Olhavanvuori was a magnificent sight, a huge rock cliff frequented by climbers. The cliff had some interesting features, evoking some primordial feelings, almost as if some ettin was turned to stone on the rock face. There's actually some cave paintings from 6000 years ago at Olhavanvuori, meaning that the place has been of some importance to whoever called these cliffs their home at that time.
Right after getting our hammocks up at Olhava, a family of four came from the forest, deciding to put up their tents a bit too close to our setup. Out of courtesy and not wanting to seem inhospitable on common ground, we packed up instead and started looking for another campsite. We had to walk quite a way back to find the place we had made a mental note of before, foreseeing that there might indeed be other campers at Olhava. Our new campsite was close to the Kuutti fire pit, which we made into our main office for sustenance and coffee imbibement.
I had bought myself a DD Hammocks Frontline, as well as the appropriate 3x3 meter tarp from the same manufacturer. I had never slept in a camping hammock before, so I was curious about that as well. I had some worries about forgetting about all the knots I used to know back in the day, when I was in the scouts, but seems like DD Hammocks know what they're doing and the ropes are just elastic enough to make it easy to untangle all sorts of Gordian knots made with poor planning. Setting up the hammock took some trial and error, but I was pretty pleased with the configuration I came up with for the first night. It rained a bit during the night, but we managed to stay completely dry.
The second day was less eventful, as we managed to find a very peaceful spot on the opposite side of the bay. There seemed to be more people at the park, but none presented themselves at our campsite this time around. The day was spent basking in the sun, reading Meister Eckhart and just enjoying existing in that moment. I think this is the crucial difference when comparing to winter camping - one can have a much less serious outlook on life, when you won't literally die of hypothermia in the case if you get lost or can't find shelter. Summer has inconveniences, like sunburn and mosquitoes, but the Finnish summer doesn't tend to outright murder you (unless elderly and/or suffering from heart conditions, also maybe this'll change as the climate change progresses, turning our previously comfortable camping experiences into scorching hellscapes of existence).
Sleeping in the hammock was way more comfortable than I expected, although my sleeping bag was definitely overkill for the summer temperatures. I don't think the temperature at any point went below 11°C. In practice, I had to come out of the bag few times a night just to cool off a bit, until I was too cold and had to crawl back in.
Compared to the latest excursion to Evo, there's a big difference in nights. Gone is the stillness of the wintery night, replaced by the cacophony of mosquitoes patrolling outside the bug net of the hammock, almost sounding like something out of György Ligeti's Kyrie. Birdsongs are also a definitive feature of a summer forest. The amount of life at Repovesi is something that to me came as a slight surprise, even if I at some subconscious level understood that we're visiting a place that many creatures call their home and we are but transients there. During our treks we saw a crow stealing eggs from a gull. A black adder basking in the sunlight hissed at me as I made my way past. We saw an elk go over the road as we were leaving.
In hindsight, I wish I had taken a few more photos, but then again, I do not want to get in to the habit of experiencing the world through a lens. I'd much rather describe my experiences in words. As we left Repovesi for Kouvola, there was an aura of contentedness, of being tired and aching, but full of newfound vigor, sparked by the mere act of unwinding in the forest. A theme that sprung up in our discussions multiple times, was being in the state of flow, being in the zone, almost as if one's consciousness is transported to some other realm of existence. I recently read Aldous Huxley's Heaven & Hell and I immediately found parallels to our journey through Repovesi. Forest is truly a church, a holy place of its own right, one that can evoke all sorts of emotions, if one is mindful enough to inhale the world and savor it.