Discover Karelia by Bike: 2024 Adventure

The year 2024 offered many reasons to travel around Russia🇷🇺. Karelia, in particular, stands out as one of the most obvious, accessible, and engaging options, especially for those looking to explore by bike.

This is Uliana, whom you’ll see in nearly every photo from the journey. We arrived in St. Petersburg, left unnecessary items with friends, packed what we needed into saddle bags, and set off. Considering our past travel experiences, we brought only essentials, freeing our backs. We foraged for food along the way and slept in houses and hotels booked via Booking.com.

Initially, the plan was to cycle around Lake Ladoga, allocating 10 days for the entire journey. As is often the case, plans started changing almost immediately, and the whole trip ended up looking like this, with black marking the bike path and red the trains.

Vyborg is the first major stop on the map, about 200 km away, which we split into two days of 100 km each, with an overnight stay in between.

As we left St. Petersburg, we took a temporary bike lane on Krestovsky Island. Such lanes have begun to appear in Moscow and St. Petersburg as part of COVID measures to rapidly improve cycling conditions in the cities. It’s a great trend spreading worldwide, though it is still sparsely implemented and not very effective in Russia, resulting in no significant increase in users.

Drivers, used to leaving their cars on open roads, did not appreciate the new solutions and continued to park on bike lanes. Notably, all of these people drove to their workouts at local sports complexes, showing disregard for those engaging in outdoor sports.

A bike-pedestrian bridge connects the island to the mainland. Initially, the Yacht Bridge was also intended for cars, but the stadium’s territory closed it off with multiple fences, leaving the bridge for the joy of citizens. It features a beautiful bike route.

Passing the Lakhta Center skyscraper, we found ourselves on the Primorsky Highway, which we would be traveling on for the next two days until we reached Vyborg.

Despite heavy traffic and the absence of any shoulder, we constantly encountered groups of athletes. Some traveled solo, while others were entire teams accompanied by a support vehicle. This can be easily explained by the fact that Primorsky Highway is a long scenic route along the coast. It has attractions, places to stop, and in case of need, you can take a train back to St. Petersburg at any time.

Why, with such an obvious demand, is there not even a millimeter of infrastructure along the highway? There isn’t even a shoulder, compelling cyclists to hug the edge and fear passing trucks.😡

The overpasses and junctions are even worse. Visibility is poor, and drivers speed up on the incline. There are no alternative routes either.

Yet, as soon as you exit the KAD (ring road), a bike path appears along the highway! Functionally, it’s a bike-pedestrian sidewalk, but it is constructed almost like those in the Netherlands.

This example of a bike path on the way from Amsterdam to Rotterdam is similarly separated from the roadway by grass, allowing for a peaceful ride along its length.

However, as we entered Sestroretsk, the fantastic bike path turned into this:

The main problem is the reckless buses. They fly by at tremendous speed and disappear into the distance.

On one of them, I noticed an advertisement for a new mobile tariff with a catchy slogan: “Speed through Leningrad Oblast at lightning speed.” It seemed so symbolic that I went online, searching: “Speed in Leningrad Oblast at lightning speed accident.” Immediately, I found a photo of an accident involving such a bus. Here’s what comes of going so fast.

Beyond Sestroretsk, the highway squeezes against the coastline, and the bike path reappears. The impression of the ride changes dramatically when you leave the dangerous highway for a quiet path. Time starts to flow differently, butt muscles relax, and one’s gaze focuses more on the beauty around. Most importantly—two people can ride side by side and chat!

Immediately, we met other cyclists traveling along the coast between resort towns.

Nowhere else in Russia have I experienced such pleasure from cycling!

We made our first stop in Repino. Here is a group of traveling guys. According to their stories, they were supposed to cover 60 km that day.

People on foldable bikes.

Very nice.

In Moscow, I’m entirely unused to simple and convenient crossings over the railway.

Komarovo is a collection of private houses on a hill among a vast forest. There are no cars and along the highway runs such a beautiful Resort Street, which we used to cut part of the way.

After a couple more kilometers, we returned to the Primorsky Highway with its remarkable bike path.

In one place, at some time, there was a picturesque landslide, but instead of erecting a temporary bridge, they just put up a fence, and people detour along the road, climbing over the guardrail.

Bridge over the stream.

All this beauty lasted about 26 km, after which the resort towns ended and the Leningrad region began.

Along with the bike paths, traffic also disappeared.

A short old and winding sidewalk appeared, but it was very old, broken by tree roots, and difficult to ride on.

At one point, it completely broke down, forcing us back onto the highway.

The remaining 50 km were very monotonous, with nothing but forests and clouds along the way, and the temperature began to drop. On this road segment, they laid new asphalt, making for a fast ride, but long climbs and descents began.

We were very tired, and to reach our rest area, we had to turn off the highway and ascend a rather high hill towards the lakes.

On one side, beautiful nature began, while on the other, more and more trash and abandoned buildings appeared.

Particularly, they excelled in visual clutter by covering all the trees with hideous ads.

But there is no one around.

We stayed overnight in an earth lodge in an eco-park on the shores of Lake Zerkalnoe. Not the best option for cycling, but the atmosphere was entirely worth it.

There’s no electricity, internet, or even cell reception in some places. Water must be sourced from a spring, and food brought with you. There’s no flooring inside, but there is a big bed and a stove.

Just magical!

Textures.

The sunset on the lake’s shore in perfect silence and solitude. No insects, no animals, no people. Merely peace and calm waters.

Morning greeted us with a drizzle, and rain was forecasted. Not the most pleasant weather, but we had to go.

Back to the Primorsky Highway and the wet, freshly laid asphalt.

The landscape has noticeably changed.

The road changed too. The asphalt was old and quite bad in spots.

Due to the heavy rain, we had to stop more often and skip going to Primorsk. But the grandfather was doing well.

Such pavement.

After several hours of riding, we finally emerged from under the cloud, the sky cleared, and the roads became almost dry.

What hurts the most after cycling 150 km?

Rest stop at a station.

As we approached Vyborg, large boulders began to appear along the road.

The whole route can be summed up in one sentence: The closer you get to Vyborg, the more beautiful the nature, and the more decay surrounds you. It’s hard to explain how such a once-resplendent Finnish town became such a mess.

The historic center is especially heartbreaking. It looks like it was bombed a hundred years ago, and nothing has been done since. Vyborg is only worth visiting to tearfully imagine how wonderful it could have been.

Nevertheless, the city’s atmosphere is genuinely unique and continues to attract a large number of tourists.

Overgrown sidewalk.

Port.

City center.

You trek through the ruins, and then suddenly, a bit of street coziness.

Fortunately, the station is in excellent condition. The plan was to head to Priozersk, but after the cold ride in the rain, we had little strength left, and we managed to catch a cold, so we decided to shorten the trip on a local train.

Trains do not run to Priozersk, so we boarded a diesel locomotive to head directly to Karelia and then retrace back to Leningrad Oblast.

With us traveled an elderly couple on city bikes with huge backpacks.

That’s how we arrived in Karelia earlier than planned.

Views from the window. The diesel locomotive moves very slowly through the swamps and lakes, with passengers being mainly older locals.

Upon arriving in Hiitola, we were met by border guards. It turns out that the western part of Karelia, bordering Finland, is a special border zone, so they check tourists’ documents, record data, and ask where we’re going and for how long. It was a bit tense, but we were advised how best to travel and given a business card, allowing us to skip this procedure when re-entering Karelia later.

September 1st, a schoolboy rides home on a local road.

After flat Vyborg, the terrain here is notably felt.

And just after 10 km, we left Karelia. Along the way, we faced border guards with whom we would meet again tomorrow.

This new highway along the western coast of Ladoga is perhaps the best road I’ve seen in Russia. After seeing the broken roads of Vyborg, it seems cosmic.

Surrounded by chiseled stones and Karelian forests.

It reminded me very much of cycling through the desert in Israel, with exactly such roads.

A fallen sign and drainage along the road.

Observe the speed limit!

A crossing with a safety island, albeit painted.

After roads in the Moscow region, such neat descents are surprising.

Arrived in Priozersk. A sidewalk emerged, and a buffer along the road, which might well serve as a bike lane.

In places, even as a very wide bike lane.

Korela Fortress. This is where the movie Brother starts.

An idyll of sorts.

The city is very clean and well-kept, even if it has fallen victim to Rosavtodor fences.

Sidewalks are cleaned by small UAZ vehicles.

And around the miniature panel buildings grow square bushes, and no one parks on the sidewalks.

After spending the night in Priozersk, we set off back to Karelia. In bike travel, there is one problem: if you pedal all day, there is very little time and energy left to explore the local beauties. Therefore, we decided to cheat again and reach the nearest train 20 km from Priozersk, to quickly get to Lakhdenpokhya, and from there, proceed to Sortavala.

But in Kuznechny, we suddenly realized that trains run only twice a week, and it’s definitely not today. 😭

The mischief did not succeed, so we must continue to proceed by our own effort.

Hello Karelia again! In the distance, we see the border checkpoint we passed yesterday. We were stopped again and asked to show documents. But here, I pull out the magic card. The guys, upon seeing the name of their chief on the card, called and asked if two cyclists had been in Hiitola yesterday. To which they replied yes, all’s well, and let us proceed.

The main delight of Karelia is that all the names here are historic. No Komarovo or Popovo, which creates the impression that you’re in Finland.

An overgrown rock.

The terrain is quite noticeable, the hills continue to rise and fall. It takes a lot of effort.

But the views are beautiful.

The primary question that plagued me the entire way: why are there so many fences here??

On the left, an old, winding road is visible. In its place is now the new one, which we’re traveling on. Ahead are 80 km of Karelian forests and nothing else.

Lakhdenpokhya, the first settlement of the day, turned out to be a terrible hole. North-destroyed wooden houses, a provincial café, and awful streets without pedestrian crossings.

After Lakhdenpokhya ends the smooth road, and winding serpentines begin through the Karelian hills. Steep inclines, sharp turns, moss-covered rocks and dangling pines. Very cool in all senses. The drivers also enjoy speeding here; real roller coasters. Though it was rather scary for us on bikes—especially when at the top of the next hill, you don’t know how steep the descent ahead is or in which direction it will turn.

By day’s end, strength is near exhaustion, so the last kilometers drag on endlessly.

Not reaching Sortavala, we turned off the highway to descend the hill to the lake where we would stay overnight.

View from the cabin window.

A police boat that once was militia.

Sitting on the lake shore, we realized it was time to change plans again and leave early in the morning to visit Ruskeala and avoid suffering on the local hills. We called a taxi and quickly reached Sortavala with our bikes in the trunk.

Sortavala is an amazingly charming city. It’s clean, pleasant to walk around, and filled with well-preserved old Finnish architecture.

Notice how all those obnoxious signs and frightening traffic lights hang on poles placed off the sidewalk, so they don’t block the walkway or cleaning. Even in Moscow, there’s nothing like this.

Tidy signage and black windows that don’t ruin the façade of old houses. The wires aren’t as annoying either.

A very beautiful wooden house.

Finnish bank building.

Entrance to an early 20th-century building. Everything original and in superb condition!

Another early 20th-century building with a dominant corner at the intersection.

What beauty.

The sidewalk is separated from the road by tall bushes. A green corridor.

I’ve never seen old wooden architecture in such good condition.

In Sortavala, there’s also a cozy promenade with cafes, a playground, and art objects.

And on the promenade itself, a green lawn and a stunning view of the skerries.

Skerries are a huge archipelago of islands with unique nature quite different from the mainland. It’s definitely worth taking a boat ride around them.

Textures.

Ladoga.

We return to Sortavala to visit another wonderful place worthy of attention—Ruskeala. It’s a natural park with marble quarries, accessible by the historic “Ruskeala Express” train.

The train is a replica, decorated in a vintage style, but so beautifully done that it’s not at all embarrassing.

Historical lamps with lovely signage.

The train is pulled by a real steam locomotive.

Inside, everything also follows the vintage style, though it’s all modern.

A dining car with a piano, restored furniture, and various décor items. Some people visit explicitly in costumes to take photos in these interiors.

A parrot is included.

The final station features a wooden platform.

The remains of the former marble factory.

A marble quarry. Once, marble was extracted here for the Isaac Cathedral. Since then, it has become half-submerged.

Landscaping is very high-quality and eye-catching.

The perfect gap.

Some decor pieces come with a workshop, but they look very natural.

The place where the marble was extracted.

It’s a true carriage, but made from modern materials.

And so, our cycling journey through Karelia concluded, and we boarded the Swift train, placed our bikes in designated spots, and four hours later found ourselves back in Saint Petersburg.