Ulrie's Daughters

There are things that we discover.

There are things that we think that we have discovered.

And there are things that we never find out.

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Having disembarked from the flight via the link bridge at its destination, Ben made his way into the main terminal at Helsinki airport, through the customs check then straight to the 'Exit' to the car hire desk. He didn't take any checked baggage with him; he always travelled light on these business trips and had changes of clothes stowed neatly in the small case, which he wheeled behind him via the extendable handle.

It was a familiar and relatively frequent trip from Heathrow, he had been three times this year but this was his first visit this late into the year. It was only a few weeks before Christmas! The decorations were up within the airport terminal and there were the usual ubiquitous nativity displays, a large and real Christmas tree and colourful ribbons and banners. Ben had already grown bored with the hype that prevailed in the shops back in England and was also pushed onto the viewers on television and radio. The Christmas themed advertising had started in early November, much to Ben's chagrin.

Ben was well travelled, in his mid-twenties and very much worldly-wise. Because of the fact that it had been a little bit chilly at home when he left and most likely colder at his destination, Ben had donned a puffer jacket for warmth over his business attire, complete with shirt and tie, dress trousers and shoes. He had stowed his matching suit jacket in the front zip section of his luggage having swapped it for the coat as he had parked his car at Heathrow prior to checking in for his flight.

This particular trip was for four days. His colleagues in Finland knew to expect him during that week, but no particular fuss was made in scheduling meetings or changing their daily routine. Ben had pre-booked a room in his usual hotel and colleagues would invariably come to meet him for drinks after work and occasionally, he would be joined for dinner. The company itself was engaged in the manufacture of food processing machinery for packing, sorting and weighing. Ben was the CEO of the UK subsidiary and both marketed and distributed their products both there and into Ireland and the USA.

Ben had decided that Finland was his favourite country within Scandinavia. Indeed, he ranked it as one of his favourite places in the World. He adored the people, so pragmatic and efficient. The country was scrupulously clean and organised. Plus the women were strikingly attractive! Even the plainest women had a certain beauty about them.

Not that Ben had any intentions with women on his travels. He had known his wife for five years before they married and she was the love of his life. Whilst Ben had his wife back at home he also had a two year old daughter and he doted over them both, as they both meant the World to him. However; Ben somewhat selfishly valued his trips away and the freedom from domestic life. His wife didn't mind him travelling away and simply insisted that the least he could do was to call her at regular intervals to check in.

Ben hadn't picked up a great deal of the Finnish language. He knew some basic greetings and farewells, or within the confines of the hotel, could order a couple of beers or Muikku and chips, which was the Finnish version of his own fish and chips national dish. Besides, most Finns were multi-lingual and spoke excellent English, so any great effort on Ben's part would be pointless, he figured. Ben could read road signs and decipher those that weren't general direction signposts, so he was sufficiently armed to make the journey by car on his own and had done so many times.

The only discomfort that Ben found in driving in Finland was that; he was required to drive on the right, whereas at home he drove on the left. The fact that the steering wheel was on the 'wrong' side of the car was a mere interruption to habit, rather than any notable inconvenience.

Arriving on the Monday at mid-morning, Ben was booked to fly out early on the following Friday evening. This allowed him to drive up to visit the factory his company had established many years before, up in the city of Hämeenlinna, half way to the major town of Tampere and a three hour drive North from Helsinki on the main European Route E12. He wanted to assess the latest control systems and software that were being developed and be home for the weekend with his family.

This was a journey that Ben had always made before by road. He habitually secured a hire car from Avis at the airport and drove north to the factory. On this occasion, Ben was informed by the attractive uniformed lady at the desk that his hire car had already been outfitted with spiked tyres, as was standard in this part of the World during winter months.

When temperatures fell to the point that they were dramatically below zero, sheet ice became an issue. When driving on compacted snow, the spikes in the tyres came into their own giving some welcomed grip. The design of the tyres was such that when the surface of the road was clear or coated with a thin layer of ice, the spikes were pressed into the tyre so that they were retracted and you could hear the rattle of cars approaching as the tips of the spikes ran on the road surface.

Ben was left to ponder why these winter tyres weren't permitted in the UK, since ice was common and there was often snow during winter in the early months of each year the further North that you travelled. His colleagues here in Finland suggested that it was probably due to the damage the spikes caused, as they resurfaced the roads here quickly and efficiently when spring arrived. After the first day of March, everything reverted to normal conditions and they simply got on and did what was required to repair.

With his electronic remote key in one hand, Ben set off to the exit from the terminal and to wander round the rows of hire cars to locate his vehicle; a standard two litre saloon version. There was no need for off-road vehicles on the main trunk roads that he was intending to navigate! The main E12 route was a fairly long and straight tree lined highway, one lane each way.

All cars had headlights that defaulted to be on at all times, which was a requirement in this part of Europe. Also; to Ben's amusement, there was a requirement for 'Moose Insurance.' These creatures were prone to simply putting their head down and dashing from the shelter of the trees and across the road. Collisions occurred often and the damage to your vehicle could be quite substantial. Winter rules also included lowering of speed limits; not that this was a concern once away from town and Ben couldn't recall ever seeing a police vehicle away from the towns and cities.

As Ben approached the automatic glass sliding doors to the outside, he noted an electronic sign displaying outside temperature as minus twenty two degrees. This didn't particularly register with Ben, until he walked to the automatic doors and they opened.

Stepping from the relative warmth of the terminal to the outside air, it struck him like walking into a wall. The freezing air literally took his breath away. Ben was stunned into stopping walking and adjusting himself to the rarefied atmosphere. Whilst it was unbelievably cold in contrast to being inside the terminal, the cold wasn't a damp, moist cold that Ben was all too familiar with from back in the UK winter. That kind of coldness chilled to the bone. This kind simply took your breath away until you got used to it, which happened within a few minutes.

Even the snow was different here. Back in England it was wet and cold to handle. Here, it was powdery and not as easy to compress into a snowball. It didn't burn your fingers in the same way, either. Ben didn't actually mind the wintery months here in this part of the World, as he didn't usually feel the cold and it was very much a lower temperature combined with a less humid cold in these parts.

Ben located his vehicle and threw his bag onto the back seat. He turned on his cell-phone and checked for coverage and messages, slipping it into his shirt breast pocket before firing up the car and setting off to the airport exit and embarked upon his journey. Within fifteen minutes, he had skirted round the centre of town and turned onto the main route north.

As Ben progressed, the frequency and density of buildings thinned noticeably and stands of trees increased. Aside from the approaches to a few small towns on the route, there would be mostly dense forests of pine trees lining the road. The roads were lined with snow poles, which marked the road edges and glowed in the dark when headlights reflected from them. If there was a blanket of snow, you could still keep on the road itself, which was raised above the grassed areas below and on each side of the roadway for a distance of approximately ten paces, before you were in the trees.

After about an hour driving, the inevitable happened. It started to snow. It wasn't heavy snow but enough to immediately settle on the road itself and the surrounds.

Ben didn't concern himself. He had always been impressed with the Finns and their ability to deploy the machinery and personnel to keep the roads clear and open. He had witnessed through the window of the bar in his hotel heavy snow falling, which had continued through the night to a depth of four feet, only to be all pushed to the side of the roads or shovelled clear of paths and driveways by the following morning.

Ben pressed on, exercising a little more caution and lowering his speed, more to avoid the potential of any Kamikaze Moose than losing control on the slippery snow. The tyres were working a treat and the car felt stable and solid on the road. As the journey progressed, the snow got thicker. After driving for about a further twenty minutes, the snowflakes that were coming down were huge. They stuck to the windscreen and the windscreen wipers were struggling to keep his visibility clear.

Ben estimated that he had only completed about a third of his journey but he had reached a point of no return. He checked his cell-phone for coverage, which he knew to be sketchy at best in the forested area and noted that he still had a weak signal registering. Even the car radio was struggling when he tried it for any bulletins that he might be able to decipher.

Ben weighed up his options. He could press on through the heavy snow and hope it thinned out or cleared further up the road. Alternatively, he could abort the journey by doubling back, find somewhere to hole up in one of the small towns he had passed and try again tomorrow. He also knew that the snow clearing resources of the Finns would be out in force and fully expected to see snowploughs setting out from each town and village to clear the road ahead.

That latter confidence in the Finns and their superb organisational abilities made the decision for him. Ben would keep going. It was now approaching midday and even at the slowed rate of progress, he would be at his destination before it became dark.

A further fifteen minutes along the road and Ben was starting to panic. The snowfall had only got heavier, the wind had picked up and he was finding it very difficult to see through the windscreen and remain within the snow poles as they reflected the headlights and stretched out ahead of him.

There hadn't been any sign of snowploughs whilst the snow had now built to a couple of feet and he could feel it crashing against the underside of the car. His speed of progress had slowed considerably and Ben feared he would be stuck out here on his own and freeze. There was plenty of petrol in the tank and the air conditioner worked fantastically with all the heat he desired, but if he stopped, he was going to be in a world of trouble.

Ben muttered to himself; "Lay on McDuff..." alluding to the famous line of Shakespeare from Macbeth. 'Lay on McDuff, and damned be him who first cries "Hold. Enough!"' Fortified from the dubious benefits of his classical education, he was now urging himself through gritted teeth to push on through the worst of the situation.

The snow wasn't easing off at all, the wind had risen so that Ben was in the middle of a full blown blizzard and, whilst the car was performing admirably on its snow tyres by gliding across the snowy surface, it became increasingly difficult to see anything beyond about ten feet ahead.

The sky was completely obliterated from view and it had become very dark; the headlights giving an eerie glow in the surrounds of the blizzard and picking out the luminosity of the snow poles, but the snow was reflecting back at him to highlight the huge snowflakes that battered the windscreen. It was becoming very difficult to keep going. Even winding down the driver's window and looking ahead with his head leaning from the window didn't prove a viable option.

Judging by the snow poles, Ben calculated that the snow was about three feet in depth. It was starting to pile up against the front of the car as he travelled, even though the tyres were climbing onto the snow in front of them as they compacted it during his slow progress and he was able to retain some control of the steering thanks to the spiked tyres.

Squinting ahead through the snowflakes Ben saw a bank of snow ahead and jammed his brakes on, sliding to a halt. Ben opened the passenger door and half extracted himself from the driver's seat to get a clearer look.

There was, indeed, a bank of snow across the road. Ben waded forward through the snow in the beam of his headlights to assess the situation. He saw that a tree had fallen across the road and the heavy fall of snow, combined with a now increasing wind, had caused the snow to bank and accumulate against the fallen pine tree.

Ben discovered that there was no way to navigate past the blockage and realised he could progress no further. He would have to do a full turn and head back from whence he came. The thought flashed through his head that he could freeze to death if he was stuck out here for the night!

Glancing to his right as he waded back to the car, Ben noticed a set of tracks headed off the side of the road and into a gap between the trees. Somebody had recently come from the forest and passed where the tree had fallen or, alternatively, driven from the road into the gap through the trees shortly before the tree fell.

The tracks were relatively fresh, causing ruts in the snow to a depth of about two feet and at a distance apart not too dissimilar to a car. But Ben also noted that there were hoof prints running along between the tracks. It must be some kind of sled or sleigh, Ben surmised as he turned the car off the edge of the road and gunned the engine to follow the tracks to wherever they had come from, or alternatively; to wherever they went. Ben concluded that there may be a loop to bypass the blockage or indeed; this might be his only hope to find shelter from the snowstorm.

Within the trees, the effects of the snow were not so blinding. The trees sheltered the car from the wind and the driving snow so that Ben was able to follow the tracks without much of a problem. Ben figured that he was travelling in the same direction as whatever it was that made the tracks, as they were not being obliterated by the snow as fast as they might have been if they were caused fifteen minutes earlier.

Ben followed the tracks for about ten minutes through the forest then they turned sharp right when they reached a stream. Ben flicked the rear of the car as he turned to follow. He had always admired the skill of his Finnish colleagues when they drove in slippery conditions. They had shown Ben that they were masters of this style of driving when he had visited previously and there was snow and ice about. The Finns found the conditions to be challenging but fun and with the benefit of the spiked tyres, it was not too difficult to get the back of the car to drift out on turns and control the car with application of a cultured application of power. Despite the desperation of Ben's situation, he was actually starting to enjoy himself!

Following the tracks along the edge of the stream, Ben was forced to slow due to the heavy snowfall and the fact that he was clear of the shelter from the trees. After a few minutes, the tracks again turned right, this time back into a gap in the trees. Ben followed and noted that the light was failing; it was now starting to get dark.

Another couple of part turns into further gaps in the trees took Ben to follow the tracks back to the edge of the stream again. A sharp turn right again and he followed the tracks cautiously for a further distance of about a mile. He had now been driving for at least thirty minutes and up ahead, Ben could see the faint flicker of a light in the distance. The tracks continued to follow the bank of the stream, only deviating away from it slightly before returning to run alongside. Ben stopped briefly to peer through the snowfall to the source of light. There in the distance was the outline of some kind of house, or hut!

Jumping back into the driving seat, Ben pressed on until he came upon what was actually a large rustic timber house. Ben assessed the frontage of the structure directly ahead and noted that it was quite substantial, double fronted and constructed from vertical raw timber slats.

The front part of the house was single storey, with a further storey above and set back from the frontage area and of similar width. It was rustic in appearance, very rough and ready, with a separate barn constructed with similar materials and sited to one side and set back from the front of the house. There were also two rudimentary wood storage areas stacked about one third full with chopped tree pieces in wedges about two feet long.

The stream had diverted away to the left and the tracks continued to follow, but in the approaches to the property was a clear, flat area leading to the frontage of the house, blanketed in snow. Ben now slowly edged forward toward the house, exercising caution as he didn't know whether he was on open meadow, fields or what might be buried under the thick layer of snow. Ben drove to a safe distance before pulling up with his headlights illuminating the area of the front door and beyond.

Turning off his engine and lights, Ben noted that there was smoke coming from a large and very wide chimney that exited the front part of the upper roof. There were very faint lights showing in the front windows only and the snow had started to pile against the front wall of the house. Somebody had already cleared a path from the barn to the front door and this was already starting to be settled with fresh snow. Ben figured that whatever had made the tracks must have been less than ten minutes ahead of him.

Ben gingerly climbed out of the car, shoving the door open against the deep snow that was to the sides of the car. He high stepped through the snow, pushing the car door closed behind him and resolved that he would throw himself at the mercy of the inhabitants and beg for somewhere to overnight and escape the blizzard.

Approaching the house, Ben noted that the front door was set back slightly with a rustic porch that ran the entire width of the house. Observing a rise in the snow, Ben concluded that there was a low veranda, so he slowly progressed and aimed for the middle of the two vertical poles that indicated the entrance to the front door. Feeling his way with his feet and with one hand to support grasping one of the poles supporting the veranda roof, Ben found two steps up onto the snow covered surface of the veranda and gently progressed to the door, which was quite low in height. Ben was six foot and he reckoned that the top of the doorframe was at his eye level.

Ben was taken by just how quaint the house seemed as he approached the quite substantially constructed timber panelled door. He knocked three times loudly with his knuckles, immediately regretting it as his hands were already getting cold in the open air, away from the warm confines of the car.