Last December, I had one of the most incredible travel experiences I had in my life: an unforgettable husky safari in Finland.
I already knew it, but the pandemic confirmed one essential detail: we only have one life; we’re already living it, and we better stop postponing the experiences we dream about. So I finally did it; I opened my browser, looked for the best available husky safari I could afford in Europe, and booked it.
I fell in love with Finnish Lapland about twenty years ago, during the fantastic summer White Nights spent on an incredible horse-riding trip in the forests around Kuusamo, and I couldn’t wait to go back in winter, to experience real-life Narnia for more than a quick aurora gateway I treated myself to in the last decade.
My husky safari in Finnish Lapland
Finnish Lapland wilderness is an incredible place to escape civilization and get away from it all. I already knew it and wanted to experience that unique, authentic freedom feeling again and, in the meantime, get to learn more about local ancestral traditions and identity.
A husky safari was perfect for leaving my daily life behind and experiencing adventure. Well, it was adventurous! I travelled fast and almost silently across the snow, with a team of five Alaskan Huskies pulling my sledge (!) through a fairytale frozen landscape.
I booked a one-week safari starting in Mounio, near the Swedish border. The one I selected on the Harriniva Hotels & Safaris’ website promised that I would spend “seven magical days driving my team of dogs through stunning scenery in northwestern Lapland, travelling from cabin to remote cabin, through Christmas-card scenes of snowy forests and frozen lakes, in an area renowned for having the cleanest air in Europe.”
So, I expected a bit of adventure and quite a bit of daily work at the cabin, as I recalled from my previous experience on horseback, but I pictured a bit less physical effort, I have to say.
Upon arrival at Levi’s airport, I took a pre-arranged transfer to a wilderness hotel near Mounio, had a fantastic salmon-based dinner in a tipi-style cabin, and played a while in the snow like a kid. God, during the pandemic, I missed the snow so much!
The following morning everything moved so fast! Wake-up call at dawn, quick breakfast, pre-booked artic equipment pick up at the hotel excursion desk (artic boots, super heavy wool socks, artic pants, jacket, mittens, balaclava, trapper hat, and sleeping bag) and meeting with the other six crazy people I’d spend the week with and our guide, Hansi. We talked swiftly with her and went off to the dog kennel to start the adventure.
Well, the first hour felt a bit crazy and overwhelming. The kennel didn’t smell as good as nobody had cleaned it early in the morning yet, with hundreds of bouncing dogs barking frantically all around and dozens of harnesses and ropes and cables piled everywhere.
Hansi showed us how to dress the dogs and put them in the line attached to the sledge. To practice a bit, we all helped with her pack and sledge, and then she introduced each of us to our dogs, and that’s when I realized I would have been on my sledge by myself for the whole week. A few years ago, I already had a one-day husky experience in Abisko, but I wasn’t alone on the sledge and panicked.
Once my pack was ready – and with thick gloves, at -20°, trust me when I say that it’s not an easy task to put harnesses on to newly met and overly excited dogs and handle frozen cables and snap hooks – our extremely confident and direct guide explained to us how to stay on a sledge and brake and follow are arm signs during the following days. A set of maybe three minutes instructions, and then off we started.
For the first few minutes, I couldn’t focus on anything. I was trying to understand how to handle my weight on the sledge and how to look at my lead dog, the guide, slopes, and trees in front of me, and then the silence and white and magic made me smile.
From adrenaline to peace in a few seconds, this kept happening for the whole trip.
The only sound is the dogs’ paws padding against the snow and the sledge runners skimming across it. The excitement I felt heading away from the husky farm and into the wilds is something I will never forget.
We drove our husky sledges for about five hours daily (30/40 km). We stayed in the wilderness in charming cabins, being responsible for our team of dogs – preparing their meals (chopped frozen reindeer meat to bite in the morning and during lunch breaks and boiled in the evening), settling them down at night, and cleaning their sleeping area before moving on in the morning.
While Hansi cooked for us for the whole week – yummy lunches cooked on open fires in the wilderness and delicious and full meals in the evening – we had to dig holes into the ice to collect water for the Finnish sauna and the cabin (drinking, cooking, and dish-washing water), light fires both in the sauna and in the cabin (to stay warm and cook our dinner and the one for the dogs) and then clean up the cabin in the morning and chop, re-stock and pile up wood for the following travellers.
A husky safari in Lapland is a unique experience through a pristine, untouched winter wonderland created by snowy forests, frozen lakes, and rivers dotted with small fairytale cabins.
When booking one, you can be assured you will meet and spend time with adventurous cool people willing to share tasks and happy moments, and then there are furry, cheerful, brave, strong, funny dogs you’ll quickly come to know and love—pure, unforgettable magic.
Husky safari and sled dogs
The word safari stems from the Arabic safara, to travel.
Starting in the late 1800s, sledge dogs were bred for Polar Exploration, and just a few decades later, sledge dog racing became popular in the Arctic. Still, there were no husky farms as this is something relatively new, developed by white people for tourists.
Immersive husky safaris can last from one short weekend to a whole week, travelling through Christmas-card scenes, covering around 25-40km per day, depending on weather conditions and the group’s ability. As said before, it’s a very active trip involving you in setting up camp and caring for the dogs.
Sled dogs are highly trained and intuitive, and they know the commands, so you don’t need any experience. The training before starting is quick but effective. You might fall a few times during the first day – it only happened twice to a girl in our group – but if you can ski, you can be a musher (i.e., sledge pilot).
Before booking the trip, my main concern was related to the dogs’ treatment and life. Well, I asked many questions before confirming and was reassured that dogs are loved and valued by the safari operators. Huskies love running and pulling sledges and prefer to sleep outside than at home (they start feeling good at -15° and feel hot above this freezing temperature, and when you spend time with them, it’s something you can easily realize). They were bred according to these traits.
My pack was composed of five Alaskan Huskies. Two lead dogs, Wind, a brilliant and overly furry ten-year-old male, the actual team leader, flanked by Gaga, an adorable and brave three-year-old skinny lady. Behind them, I had Mojito, a shy two-year-old daughter of Gaga. I had to conquer her trust the first two days and keep her quiet the whole time, especially in the morning, as she was too excited and would never stop pulling. The two wheels were Xylitol, a nine-year-old strong and enduring male, and my baby, Outa. A crazy and funny sixteen-month-old son of Gaga at his first overnight safari.
My dogs were fantastic, and their enthusiasm was infectious. Cuddling them at lunchtime and in the evening and playing in the morning was a treat and one of the highlights of my safari in Lapland. When we returned to the kennel and fed them the last day, I cried and thought about them often.
Anyway, before booking a sledge dog safari, look for detailed information about sledge dog welfare, no matter where. If you can’t find it on the official website, ask questions about the husky farm, the kennel, and the dogs and what happens to them when they retire.
A husky safari is not for everybody
But. Cause there is a but. A husky safari in Lapland is not for everybody. It’s physically exhausting, and you never really rest or have time to yourself.
Not having electricity and running water in a freezing winter is difficult. Having to wear heavy layers of clothes and boots to reach an almost frozen wilderness loo with a head torch is not always funny.
Showering in a shared sauna mixing freezing cold and boiling water in plastic buckets might be hilarious or overly frustrating, according to your mood. Trying to fall asleep next to or above a heavy, snoring travel companion you just met is exhausting.
A husky safari in Lapland is not for you if you freak out if the elements take over: deep snow and biting winds are the norms, and temperatures can quickly drop to between -20 and -30 degrees; you can never really predict which dog sledging trails will be open and in which state you will find them nor how long the dogs will be able to run for.
A husky safari in Lapland is not for you if your priority is sharing perfect pictures and videos on your Instagram account nor if you want to look pretty in those you get to take.
Was it for me? Hell yeah! I loved it and even loved what I hated, and I sincerely hope to experience it again, maybe in Alaska.
