As a child growing up in Texas, the closest I ever got to dogsledding was strapping on inline skates and walking my black Labrador around the neighborhood. Dogsledding felt exotic and distant; I often imagined the rush of icy air on my face as I shouted “Mush!” to a team of blue-eyed huskies.
So when I sat on a worn wooden sled padded with a thick reindeer hide in Finland’s northernmost region, my heart raced. I had dreamed of this moment for nearly 15 years.
My team of six huskies was strong and eager, many paired with their siblings. Their owner, Mika Nylund, handled them with obvious care. I had booked the trip through Kakslauttanen Arctic Resort, which recommended Nylund’s company, Kamisak Oy, for an authentic dogsledding experience beneath the winter sky and a chance to see the Northern Lights.
Glass igloos at Kakslauttanen Arctic Resort © KRISTY ALPERT
For Nylund and many who grew up in Lapland, dogsledding is more than a tourist activity — it’s a way of life. Many locals begin learning as young as six, starting with a small sled and a couple of huskies.
“There are thousands of huskies in Lapland,” Nylund, a husky sledge activity guide, explained. “Some farms keep huskies for tourism, some as a hobby, and others for competitive racing. For many people it’s a sport like any other.”
As he prepared the sled, Nylund proudly told me he’s teaching his son Noa to be a musher, describing his son’s natural ability to command a powerful pack. He checked the harnesses, tucked extra blankets around me, and wrapped a scarf to protect my face from the wind that comes from riding behind six strong animals.
“The landscape in Lapland is perfectly suited for dogsledding,” he said. “The Kakslauttanen area offers pine forests and open, treeless hills that capture the true feel of Lapland wilderness.”
Dogs pulling a rider in the sled © DELSTUDIO | DREAMSTIME
Then we were off. My partner started as musher while I settled into the sled, eyes closed as wind kissed my cheeks and the sled glided along a trail marked by the steady drum of the dogs’ paws. The air was crisp and cool; the dogs, focused and well-trained, did not pause for breaks, which explained Nylund’s extra face covering. The scent of the forest and the serene landscape made the moment everything I had imagined.
After about an hour following Nylund and his team, we crossed an open field and stopped to enjoy steaming Finnish cocoa and stretch our legs. It was my turn to take the helm. Nylund gave a concise run-through of the sled’s controls and reassured me about the dogs’ responsiveness to commands.
I called “go,” gave the sled a running push, and hopped into place. Being the musher felt both empowering and humbling: I guided the sled, but the dogs provided the power and rhythm. We ducked into a pine forest, the air rich with the scent of needles, and then burst into an open meadow. Nylund signaled with a raised fist to stop. In the hush that followed, the dogs sat quietly as we looked up to see green and red curtains of aurora dancing across the night sky.
They say the Northern Lights are never guaranteed — a “fickle lady” — so seeing them felt like a special gift. Standing there in the sled, snow boots instead of skates and huskies in place of my old Lab, I realized a long-held dream. In that moment, watching the sky shimmer, I felt incredibly lucky.
Lapland Info to Go
All flights to Lapland connect through Helsinki-Vantaa Airport; the nearest airport to Kakslauttanen Arctic Resort is Ivalo (IVL). The resort offers a shuttle service when you book, and the transfer from Ivalo takes about 30 minutes.