Ivalo, Finland -- Watch out for the reindeer," Finnish friends had warned when they heard I'd be driving through northern Lapland.
Reindeer graze alongside the Arctic Road in summer. They like the salt left from snow removal efforts when winter nights are 21 hours long. Traffic doesn't bother them. Blaring horns won't stop them from walking in front of a speeding car.
Knowing that is enough to keep a driver alert through mile after mile of two-lane asphalt through thick timber. Occasional glimpses of vast, mirror-like lakes relieve the tedium. After a while you tend to wonder what inspired the myths about reindeer.
Lapp reindeer are not red-nosed and Rudolphy. They have nothing in common with the streamlined team on Christmas decorations and couldn't fly Santa's freight under any weather conditions.
Big, grayish-beige, oafish and elk-like, they mosey along the flat stretches between forest and highway. Because there are three reindeer for every Lapp in northern Lapland, the reindeer is king of the road. If a reindeer chooses to cross, you do the yielding.
Every reindeer belongs to some Lapp, and the beasts do everything from put food on his table to clothes on his back to money in his bank account. It's been that way since the Lapps were nomads and followed the reindeer to this area near the Arctic Sea. And now the reindeer are tourist bait. First, the outlanders visit reindeer farms where they pay to see, touch and photograph the animals with their owners in full Lapp costume.
Then the visitor can go inside a huge wooden "kota," or tepee, and eat reindeer stew.
"We had some British guests who refused to eat 'Santa's reindeer,' " reported one farmer near Rovaniemi. "We told them these particular reindeer weren't from Santa's herd."
Such sensitive visitors still get their money's worth at a Lapp baptism ceremony around a campfire in a smoke-filled kota. They sit on reindeer rugs, sip strong coffee and hear legends of how good Lapps are reincarnated as reindeer.
They also learn:
Why Lapp boots have curly toes. (They hold the snowshoes in place.)
Why the men wear the Four Wind hats. (The four points are like pockets, providing secure storage for things you wouldn't want to get wet if you fall in the river.)
Why the women wear those big silver brooches covered with small gold disk mobiles. (the flicker of any movement scares eagles away.)
And why the men wear so much silver on their wide leather belts. (Lapp nomads didn't have banks, so they carried their riches with them.)
Reindeer-farm visits may whet the appetite for all kinds of antlered enterprise.
In winter reindeer safaris, a series of sleds are pulled by reindeer, one well-trained reindeer per well-weatherproofed tourist. A Lapp in traditional costume is escorts for a journey that might last anywhere from 1 1/2 hours to all day -- even overnight, if the visitor can cope with the reality of sleeping in a tent on reindeer skins at 22 degrees below zero.
Visitors can earn a reindeer driver's license, but they're smarter to remain spectators at the 20 official races in which wild reindeer are harnessed to pull skiers. Natives and their prized animals fly across the snow as if jet-propelled. The Gold Watch race in March is the Lapp answer to the Kentucky Derby.
The living room wall of Into Paadar's home near Inari is covered with racing trophies family members have won over the years. Taimi Paadar, in her 20s, has won her share of those trophies.
The family keeps a small herd of reindeer on the farm, she said, for use on safaris. A far larger number are tagged and freed to run wild with an enormous herd.
"There are too many reindeer, not enough food, so the law says we have to kill 80 percent of the calves and 20 percent of those over a year old," she said. "We sell the animals we slaughter for meat."
Reindeer fur is fashioned into boots, coats, hoods, mittens and various souvenir items, ranging from bottle holders to key-chain items. The hides are used for designer coats, leather bags, boots and belts.
Since reindeer grow new antlers every year, discarding the old ones in the spring, there's an endless supply of horn. Inari's internationally known craftsman Petteri Laiti uses the horn for carved knife handles and sheaths, always following traditional Lapp designs.
Until the early 1980s, when legislation was passed requiring guides for those who entered the forest, tourism had been unpopular with Lapps, for good reason. One reckless tourist on a snowmobile or one too eager to photograph a reindeer could stampede a herd. The owner would have to spend days to find and bring back the animals.
"A guide can show visitors big herds -- up to 2,000 reindeer -- but in ways that the animals will not become frightened and run," Ms. Paadar said.
The Inarin Porofarmi is a popular lunch stop for safaris. People from Germany, England and Japan (not many Americans yet) gather around the fireplace in the big wooden tepee, sit on reindeer-fur rugs and use logs for tables as they dine on hearty servings of reindeer stew over mashed potatoes, lingonberries, pickles and fresh bread.
IF YOU GO . . .
Rovaniemi is the capital of Finnish Lapland, but visiting Rovaniemi and thinking you've seen Lapland is like passing through Chicago and thinking you know about life in Midwestern small towns.
It's less than an hour's flight, or a four-hour drive, to Ivalo, heart of gold-mining country and a blossoming winter resort area. Though nightfall comes about 3 p.m. during the long winter, cross-country and downhill trails are lighted. Northern-light snowmobile safaris are popular. In summer, visitors can try their luck panning gold at an open-air gold-mining museum, fishing in countless lakes or seeing the countryside.
Another hour north by car along the Arctic Road will put you in Inari, center of Lapp -- or Sameland -- reindeer territory.
(Lapps call themselves Samiis.) Visit the Samek outdoor museum for insight into the culture. For Lapp crafts, visit the Samekki studio of Petteri and Tuovi Laiti.
The Inari area is popular with European campers, fishermen and hunters as well as winter sports enthusiasts.
Winters in Lapland last from November to May, with temperatures dipping as low as 58 below zero. But in July and August, temperatures can reach as high as 90 degrees. In December and January, daylight lasts only three hours. In late June through July the sun never sets.
For more information, contact the Finnish Tourist Board, 655 Third Ave., New York, N.Y. 10017. (212) 949-2333.