During late winter each year, the Lapland scouts head up to Aakenus fell, between Äkäslompolo and Kittilä, for a few nights, to practice their outdoor skills.
With temperatures often dropping to -20C and lower, it's important to have good shelter and to keep out of the wind.
In Southern Europe scouts would rig up tents and camp fires, but up here in the north, they have a slightly different approach, digging a series of caves in the deep snow on the side of the mountain.
Let's go Caving!
As the snow melts in springtime, the caves disappear, but in the few weeks before the thaw properly sets in, the caves remain usable. That was when our friends, the Karinen's, who make sure that we don't miss any exciting experiences in Lapland, suggested that we all head up there for the weekend...
So, with thoughts of frostbite, claustrophobia and hungry bears emerging from hibernation, we set about practising our snow shoeing technique and loading as many warm clothes as we could find on to our little sledge.
Get the gear up the mountain
Forty five minutes driving and we were at the start of the path, a quiet ski trail that formed the first 2 km of our route.
Once we got started, the snow shoeing was fairly easy and pulling a sledge behind is easier than we thought, even when it sniffs around your ankles like a small dog wanting to play every time you head slightly downhill.
With Timo leading, pulling what seemed more like a small boat in comparison with our tiny sledge, we were soon off the track and heading up the steeper section to the small gully where the caves had been dug.
House Inspection
The first surprise was that the entrances to the caves were about 5 metres above ground level. It would have been so easy to walk past them if we'd not known they were there.
Then the second was that they appeared to have bars over the entrances, caused by the slow defrosting of the snow forming icicles as it dripped down over the doors.
At night, the temperatures are still well below Zero, but the daytime sun, and by mid-April in Lapland there are around 18 hours of daylight, causes the top layer of snow to begin to defrost.
The icicles were easily swept away, and the next surprise was that immediately behind each entrance was a steep climb through a narrow gap to get into the actual cave. The daytime defrosting had made these sections pretty icy and the combination of enclosed space and slipperiness, with a steep drop outside, made for quite an exciting experience.
Actually, it was probably about three feet high, but while you are trying to convince yourself that you don't suffer from claustrophobia, and working out if the entrance is small enough to discourage a hungry bear, you don't take in all the detail.
Once we'd all selected our caves, we set about digging steps up to the entrances, then lugging our gear up to them.
While we were preparing sleeping gear, and getting our caves organised, Jonna climbed high above the cave entrances to raise the camp flag.
Apart from looking pretty good, the flag would warn any returning scouts or other potential new residents that there were other people around.
That seemed a pretty good idea, since a surprise encounter 15 feet or so above ground level could be dangerous for all involved.
Despite the caves being a bit small and a little chilly, setting the gear out in them did make them feel a bit like wilderness hotel rooms.
That said, we were quite glad to set out again for a while to climb the slope in front of the caves and take in the evening view.
By mid-April the days in Lapland are long and bright, and the short night is preceded by a long slow sunset, which gave us the perfect opportunity to have some dinner and take in the view while reflecting on how much our lives have changed since we moved away from London 18 months ago.
While we were taking in the spectacular view, eating, and thanking Jonna profusely for the rum that she'd brought along, and which spiced up the outdoor coffee perfectly, the younger members of the expedition team were off taking full advantage of the still-perfect winter conditions on the hillside.
In my younger days in Scotland, sledging meant pointing yourself and your sledge downhill, then running like the clappers and jumping on, hoping that you didn't hit anything too solid before the bottom of the slope.
For the younger Finns it's a much more sophisticated event with capabilities to steer around obstacles that would have seen me and my childhood friends spending the night in casualty.
We took one final precaution before heading for bed, setting up a couple of outdoor candles, left over from the winter season, at the entrance to the cave.
They might not have been enough to discourage a seriously hungry bear, but they might give us time to beat a hasty retreat while it was blowing out its flaming tootsies.
Though we were a bit apprehensive about getting any sleep at all, the reindeer skins that the Karinen's had brought to go under the sleeping bags actually made quite comfortable on top of the icy base layer.
Squatters in Residence
Apart from looking pretty good, the flag would warn any returning scouts or other potential new residents that there were other people around.
That seemed a pretty good idea, since a surprise encounter 15 feet or so above ground level could be dangerous for all involved.
Ready for Bed?
That said, we were quite glad to set out again for a while to climb the slope in front of the caves and take in the evening view.
By mid-April the days in Lapland are long and bright, and the short night is preceded by a long slow sunset, which gave us the perfect opportunity to have some dinner and take in the view while reflecting on how much our lives have changed since we moved away from London 18 months ago.
In my younger days in Scotland, sledging meant pointing yourself and your sledge downhill, then running like the clappers and jumping on, hoping that you didn't hit anything too solid before the bottom of the slope.
For the younger Finns it's a much more sophisticated event with capabilities to steer around obstacles that would have seen me and my childhood friends spending the night in casualty.
Retiring for the Night
As we sat on the hillside, the temperature slowly dropped to around -10C. With no wind, it didn't feel that cold, but we finally decided it was time for bed.
They might not have been enough to discourage a seriously hungry bear, but they might give us time to beat a hasty retreat while it was blowing out its flaming tootsies.
Though we were a bit apprehensive about getting any sleep at all, the reindeer skins that the Karinen's had brought to go under the sleeping bags actually made quite comfortable on top of the icy base layer.
The combination of fresh air, exercise and good food soon overcame the fear and we were sound asleep.
Though we were all starving, we decided to take a walk up towards the top of the mountain, to take a look at the views first.
On a Sunday morning out in the wilderness, you sort of assume that there is no-one for miles around, but, just as we were approaching the top of the mountain, a couple of fit and enthusiastic cross-country skiers appeared over the mountain-top and stopped for a quick chat.
As we turned to head back down to the caves, we saw something moving around some rocks, it was a bit far off to see clearly, but we finally guessed that it must be a snow grouse.
It wasn't keen on us approaching, but we managed to get a quick picture just before it fluttered off to a quieter part of the fell.
In northern Lapland, nature is never far away. It's always interesting to see how the wildlife evolves to cope in the rugged terrain and often tough weather conditions.
When we arrived back at the cave site, the younger contingent were finally taking it easy.
There also seemed to be significantly fewer biscuits than we remembered, but we couldn't be quite sure.
Certainly it seems that the combination of late night sledging, fighting to escape from sleeping bags and living out in the freshest air in Europe builds a healthy appetite!
Talking of which, we (mostly Jonna) were soon busy in the cave kitchen making some fantastic outdoor pasta.
There really is something special about food that is prepared and eaten outdoors away from home and we took a leisurely lunch before emptying the caves, and packing up ready for the trip home.
Once we had all the gear packed and ready to leave the caves for the last time and head for home, we stepped back into our trusty snow shoes and started off following our tracks back to the main path.
We made the mistake of thinking that it would be easier heading back, since we had eaten and drunk most of our supplies.
In fact the reverse is true. With all the food eaten there was not enough weight to keep the sledges stable, and, especially in the cross-hill sections, they insisted on rolling over at every possible opportunity, attempting to drag us downhill the quick way.
Morning has broken
Bright and early on Sunday morning, we found that we hadn't been buried alive or been attacked by the bears rumoured to live in the fell, but instead woke up feeling quite refreshed on a glorious morning.
When we got there we found that we could see Ylläs fell, the mountain which our village, Äkäslompolo, sits at the base of. It's just visible in the background here.
On a Sunday morning out in the wilderness, you sort of assume that there is no-one for miles around, but, just as we were approaching the top of the mountain, a couple of fit and enthusiastic cross-country skiers appeared over the mountain-top and stopped for a quick chat.
It wasn't keen on us approaching, but we managed to get a quick picture just before it fluttered off to a quieter part of the fell.
In northern Lapland, nature is never far away. It's always interesting to see how the wildlife evolves to cope in the rugged terrain and often tough weather conditions.
Relaxing at camp
There also seemed to be significantly fewer biscuits than we remembered, but we couldn't be quite sure.
Certainly it seems that the combination of late night sledging, fighting to escape from sleeping bags and living out in the freshest air in Europe builds a healthy appetite!
There really is something special about food that is prepared and eaten outdoors away from home and we took a leisurely lunch before emptying the caves, and packing up ready for the trip home.
Time to go home
We made the mistake of thinking that it would be easier heading back, since we had eaten and drunk most of our supplies.
In fact the reverse is true. With all the food eaten there was not enough weight to keep the sledges stable, and, especially in the cross-hill sections, they insisted on rolling over at every possible opportunity, attempting to drag us downhill the quick way.
That did make the first half of the return trip a bit harder, but it was quite funny watching the gear spill out of the sledge every few steps until we managed to lash it better into place.
After an hour or so we were back in the car and heading home, just in time, for Timo had prepared a champagne reception for the brave explorers! The perfect welcome home!
As with so many new experiences in Lapland, we're now planning to do it all again next year.
Maybe it's the cold that makes us crazy.
Maybe it's the cold that makes us crazy.
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