A Week in Karelia: Dog Trekking, Cycling, and Rafting

Breakfasts Like at Grandma’s in the Village — and a Walk with the Dogs

I had long dreamed of visiting Karelia. I was deeply drawn to the northern landscapes, as well as the region’s culture and history.

On the drive from Petrozavodsk to our accommodation in the village of Matrosy, I already began to feel that I was truly in the Russian North. The first thing I noticed was how different the trees — and even the air — felt. The pines here are tall and slender. In Siberia, where I’m originally from (Irkutsk), they are thicker and shorter.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was visiting my grandmother: we checked into a cozy guesthouse, were served oatmeal porridge and toast with apple jam, and after breakfast I took a stroll around the welcoming grounds.

On the first day at the kennel, each member of our group chose a four-legged companion. Together with our guide Yulia and a local staff member, we set off for a walk. For me, this activity was a real discovery. Walking through the forest harnessed to a sled dog — one that had taken part in expeditions to the North Pole and maintains its endurance through regular training — was a fascinating experience. Despite their stern appearance and the harsh conditions they’ve endured on expeditions, these dogs are incredibly affectionate and friendly, and they love having their bellies scratched.

After the walk, we returned to the guesthouse. I sat on a garden swing, watching the owner’s son water the small shrubs with a watering can. He had planted them himself to make the yard even more beautiful and lush. Once again, I felt as though I were visiting my grandmother.

For dinner, we were served a delicious homemade zucchini and chicken stew. The guesthouse owners have a small vegetable garden and bring fresh produce straight to the table — cucumbers, tomatoes, and zucchini.

20 Kilometers by Bike and Relaxing by the Lake

On the second day, we set out on a cycling trip. It turned into a great cardio workout along forest roads — about 10 kilometers each way. We made a stop in a stunning spot by a lake. Our guides, Yulia and Ivan, started preparing lunch. The camp menu included borscht cooked over the fire, a fresh vegetable salad, sandwiches, and oranges for dessert.

I volunteered to help and was put in charge of slicing cabbage for the borscht. While it simmered, the group and I went for a swim and tried stand-up paddleboarding. After cycling 10 kilometers, swimming in a warm, crystal-clear lake felt like pure bliss. I paddled out to the middle of the lake, lay back on the board, and for a few minutes simply drifted, absorbed by the beauty and calm around me. Birds were singing, the campfire crackled in the distance as our lunch cooked, and all around me stretched a vast mirror of water reflecting the sky and trees. Bliss — there’s no other word for it.

After lunch, we picked bog blueberries — large and sweet. The clearing where we had stopped was covered in them. In just seconds, you could gather a generous handful: pop them into your mouth, savor the taste, and reach for more. During those six days, I ate more blueberries than in the rest of my life combined.

Some participants came well prepared, bringing bottles with wide necks to fill with berries. In the evenings at the guesthouse, they would continue enjoying their harvest.

That day brought back childhood memories. In summer, my friends and I practically lived on our bicycles, riding to a neighboring village to pick wild strawberries. At my grandmother’s house, I gathered raspberries from her garden for jam. We returned to the guesthouse at sunset, pleasantly tired.

Rafting — or How We Became the “River Wolves”

The day began once again with a delicious breakfast: millet porridge, pancakes with sour cream and condensed milk, baked omelet just like in kindergarten, and freshly brewed coffee. Well fueled, we were ready for rafting.

We put on our life jackets, boarded the bus, and headed to the starting point of our river descent — the village of Pryazha, where we met another guide, Stas. He was in charge of the second raft.

We split into two teams, loaded our gear (and ourselves) into the boats, and began paddling calmly down the Shuya River. Our raft was led by Yulia. She taught us the basic commands: “full ahead” — paddle hard; “easy” — relax a little; “back paddle” — row in reverse; and our favorite — “paddles up,” meaning a well-earned break.

Yulia also showed us how to distribute the effort properly while paddling — engaging our core so our arms wouldn’t tire too quickly.

We drifted along the gentle current, chatting and admiring the charming little villages we passed along the way. At some point, we started racing the other raft. We came up with a team name — the “River Wolves.” To keep us in sync, Yulia called out rhythmically, “One, one, one!”

After overtaking our rivals, we burst into song: “And we don't care, and we don't care, though we are afraid of a wolf and an owl” We probably scared away all the local fishermen’s catch — but we had the time of our lives.

The friendly competition, the songs, and Yulia’s infectious energy brought the group closer together.

We paddled on until we reached our campsite. Lunch was a Greek salad, chicken noodle soup, sandwiches, and pears.

Cooking together always sparks conversation, so I asked Stas about his work as a guide. He told us about a sports camp for orphaned children, training sessions, and participating in water expeditions. Stas also works with the Karelia Federation of Sport Tourism.

He was born and raised in this region and is committed to developing his homeland and inspiring the younger generation to love sports. Stories like his always move me and help me feel more deeply connected to the places I visit.

Karelian Off-Road Adventure

On the fourth day, we set out to ride ATVs along forest trails. It was my first time behind the handlebars of a quad bike, but I was surprised at how easily I managed it. The route took us through forests, open fields, and marshy stretches. My favorite part was powering through the mud — no proper off-road ride would be complete without it.

Along the way, we passed a lake where we stopped for a swim and picked berries. The guides even arranged a full hot lunch along the route: broth in thermoses, chicken, sandwiches, and fresh vegetables.

Living History in Kizhi

One day was dedicated to visiting the open-air museum-reserve on Kizhi Island. I’ve always loved history, so I was especially looking forward to this excursion.

We were welcomed by a guide whose stories transported us back in time. We learned about peasant life, examined household items inside traditional wooden houses and granaries, and even stepped inside a windmill. I was struck by how thoughtfully our ancestors organized their daily lives.

The main landmark of Kizhi — the Church of the Transfiguration — amazed us with its grandeur. Its domes are visible from anywhere on the island. It’s hard to believe that such beauty was created by human hands.

From time to time, the ringing of the old bell tower echoed across the island. It felt as if time itself had stood still. I found myself wishing to become a peasant girl, humming a tune while running barefoot through the grass and dancing in circles with friends. Kizhi has an incredible energy. Here, I felt connected to the roots of Russian culture and witnessed the pinnacle of traditional Russian wooden architecture.

This trip to Karelia briefly brought me back to childhood: cycling along dirt roads, swimming freely in a lake, eating berries to my heart’s content, splashing through mud on an ATV, running through the forest with a dog, and listening to the peal of church bells. Sometimes, it’s simply necessary to feel like a child again and escape the rush of city life in nature.