As we headed straight for the pillar of a bridge, I tried to recall Algis’ advice. We sat in a shaky canoe on the Raudna river and collision was unavoidable. But with the best will in the world, I couldn’t remember what Algis had told us to do in case the boat tipped over. The chatty local, who had picked us up in the darkness with his rickety car, had shared with us so much that morning. From facts about nature to the number of children which he could push into a canoe in one minute (30).
I did know that the water was freezing cold. I didn’t have to go under for that. It was the end of October. Winter was upon us. You may be wondering, dear reader, why we went canoeing in the first place? Wouldn’t it be better to stay in, with a good book and a cup of hot cocoa? In other words, wouldn’t be better to be normal? Thanks for the concern, but our mental health is fine. No, we explored Soomaa National Park, one of the wildest areas in Estonia, of our own free will. More specifically, it was a birthday present for Anete from my parents. If we ended up wet, or worse, it was all their fault.
Soomaa, land of bogs
Estonians are simple people, I’ve said it before. They like to say a lot with as few words as possible. A flower shop here is called “Flowers”, a cheese shop “Cheese”. No frills. They employ that same simplicity in their geographical names. The largest Estonian island is called Saaremaa, or Island Land. And the national park Soomaa can be translated as Swamp Land.
Soomaa is wild. This is Estonia’s primaeval nature, almost completely untouched by human hands. It’s a succession of raised bogs, fens, mires, wetlands and riparian forests, a wilderness where bears, wolves, lynxes and moose roam. 43 mammal species live here, eight of which are protected, 183 bird species and 539 plant species. When we drove into the park at dawn several years ago, the only passengers on the six o’clock bus, we saw deer skip across the fields. Nature here is a silent primal force, the Amazon of Estonia.
Once again, we got up before dawn to see the sunrise in the bog. As we pushed our canoe onto the water, temperatures just above freezing, the first sunrays set the autumn colours ablaze. What a magnificent spectacle. I wanted to rub my eyes, squeeze my arm, but did neither. I didn’t want to lose my paddle this early in the trip.
Our silhouettes rowed with us through the reed. From the bank, a Galloway cow looked at us with scepticism, wearing horns that could pierce a grown man. We slalomed around fallen trees. It was silent and the water formed a magical mirror reflecting the surroundings, providing spindly trees in all shades of autumn with an underground doppelgänger. Some trees still donned their fluorescent green camouflage, others had turned completely bright yellow.
Fifth season
The canoe has historically been the means of transport in Soomaa. Some locals still make their canoes in the traditional way, carved out of a single tree trunk. Haabjas, named after the aspen that serves as a material. They’re the only ones in Europe who keep that tradition alive. The canoe is indispensable here. Water shapes the landscape. During the fifth season, when snow and ice melt and the rivers of Soomaa cannot swallow the excess of water, an area of 175 square kilometres floods. A strip that measures seven to eight kilometres.
When that happens, usually in the spring, the inhabitants need a canoe to go shopping. That’s why some houses are built on stilts and why the residents used to take all the necessary precautions. They baked extra bread in advance and secured their precious firewood to prevent it from washing away.
After about two hours of paddling, we rounded a few bends in the river. We dragged our canoe out onto dry land and left it in a swampy meadow. Algis had warned us: many tourists missed the right spot to go on land for a short walk to a watchtower in the bog. We played it safe and waddled through the mucky grassland – at times sinking to our ankles in the soggy soil – until we hit a gravel road. A car drove past with screeching tires. We were back in civilisation.
We walked a bit on the gravel road. A little further, we saw the official docking place for canoes. A gigantic sign urged canoeists ashore. Must have been that Stevie Wonder once came kayaking here, because I don’t see who else could have missed this sign. Our canoe lay on the shore a few dozen metres further. All that dragging and splashing had been for nothing.
A millimetre a year
At the start of the Ingatsi hiking trail, small plasticized placards marked the range of the water. It almost reached over our heads. During the record flood of 1931, the water rose more than five metres. After walking through a wet forest for a while, we saw the air getting brighter and arrived at the edge of the bog. A silent, endless plain stretched out in front of us, a wilderness from a picture postcard book. We shut up for a moment. No matter how often you visit such a bog, it remains an impressive landscape.
It was quiet, as if the spongy peat had absorbed all the sounds. We walked over the wooden boardwalks towards a lake, a carpet of colourful moss surrounding us. Bogs grow painfully slow. Still, some bogs in Soomaa are up to eleven metres thick. At a growing ratio of a millimetre a year, it means that the sphagnum moss has been accumulating for millennia, slowly turning into peat. In a similar landscape in Scotland, the remains of a wolf have been found. Two thousand years old, but the animal’s golden fur was still intact. All this to indicate how special a place like Soomaa is. And how vulnerable. It takes decades for a bog to recover. The message is to stay on the paths.
After the hike, we headed for that damned bridge. A sudden rapid had surprised us. A collision could not be averted. We crashed straight onto the pillar, rocked for a moment, but miraculously managed to keep our balance. When I later found an unopened can of beer at the bus stop, I was reminded of Bill Bryson’s words in A Walk in the Woods, about his hike of Appalachian Trail: “If there’s one thing the AT teaches, it is low-level ecstasy–something we could all do with more of in our lives.”
Practical
How to get to Soomaa with public transport?
Though challenging, it’s perfectly possible to do this canoe trip with public transportation from Pärnu. For a detailed explanation of this and other trips, check our blog post about public transport and nature in Estonia.
Canoeing in Soomaa
We booked a canoe for the day with soomaa.com. All went smoothly. Normally, the company allows you to leave at 10 am, 12 am, 2 pm or 4 pm, but Algis happily picked us up before dawn. This way we could go straight from the bus onto the water. We could leave items that we wanted to keep dry in Riisa Rantso. This is also the end spot of the canoe trip of twelve kilometres in total (excluding side trips on land).
We paid €25/person. Pick-up from Pärnu costs €20/person extra. But that’s actually not necessary if you follow our instructions. Soomaa.com also organises guided canoe trips. Another option, for the summer, is to rent a canoe for two or three days and camp along the way. +1 for our bucket list.
Hiking in Soomaa
Several hiking trails introduce visitors to the bog landscapes of Soomaa. The most accessible one, Riisa study trail (4.8 km), departs a stone’s throw from Riisa bus stop. During the canoe trip, there’s the option to walk Ingatsi study trail (4.3 km) and Lemmjõe forest study trail (5.8 km). Other hiking trails, which are somewhat more difficult to reach by public transport, are the beaver study trail (1.8 km), Meiekose study trail (5.6 km), Kuuraniidu study trail (1.8 km), Hüpassaare study trail (4.4 km), Öördi lake study trail (2.4 km) and Pauna hiking trail (3 km). In addition, the long-distance path Oandu-Ikla (375 km) runs right through the national park.
Sleeping in Soomaa
RMK provides a range of free camping spots and free and paying huts in Soomaa. The entire list can be found on the RMK website. Given the season, however, we chose to stay in Jõesuu, on the edge of the national park. Villa River Rose is a quiet place, beautifully situated along the river. The owner is the real gem of this place – friendly, accommodating and a good source of information. We particularly enjoyed the breakfast, which is excellent value for money. Everything was delicious, from the Italian coffee over the carrot marinade to the homemade apple cake.
Eating and drinking in Soomaa
The village café didn’t serve meals when we visited, although, usually, you can eat here. The next morning, we visited Tori Cider Farm. The owner explained the history of the farm and let us taste some ciders and wines. We hiked that day with a bottle of blackcurrant wine in our backpacks.
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