Tue 28 June
Another gray day today as we ride up the northern peninsular in the mist. We pass through small fishing villages, almost tundra like landscape with small ponds such that you see when the permafrost has melted. The roadside has the occasional garden plot each carefully tended by the unknown occupier and fenced to keep the moose out. There are also piles of cut firewood waiting for buyers – seems no one steals the stuff. The cutters are taking the dead trees from the forest.