From Kurtakko to Bearhill – Teemu’s road to our husky kennel
Hello, I’m Teemu Sara, the sales team leader and sales operations manager here at Bearhill Husky. I thought I would hijack the blog for a couple of posts.
Not permanently, don’t worry. Just for a little while, I’m very well aware that dog related topics tend to be way more interesting for people to read.
There are a few topics I would like to write about from my own corner of Bearhill: sales, customer service, tour planning, and the slightly strange balance between giving guests the experience they dream of while also making sure we never promise more than the dogs, guides, weather, or reality can safely deliver.
But before getting into those topics, I thought it would make sense to start with the beginning. How did I end up here?
Like many stories in Lapland tourism, it was not exactly a straight road.
Growing Up in Lapland
I grew up in Kurtakko, a small village about 200 kilometres north of Rovaniemi. So in that sense, Lapland has always been home to me.
When you grow up in Lapland, the things that visitors travel across the world to see are often just part of normal life. Snowy winters, long distances, dark winters, bright spring light, mosquitoes in summer, and the kind of silence that people from bigger cities sometimes find almost suspicious.
At some point, I started my BBA studies in Tornio, near the Swedish border, west of Rovaniemi. Later, in 2018, I then moved to Rovaniemi for a work internship at Safartica, a tourism company operating here in the city.
That internship gave me my first proper feeling that tourism could maybe be a career path I could fit well into.
Still, as these things often go, life was not quite that simple. It took some time to finish my studies, get things in order, and find the right direction.

The first real season
In 2021, after graduating and after meeting my fiancée I got a job at Wild Nordic in a front desk sales role.
To say it was an easy first proper workplace experience in tourism would be a lie.
It was hectic. Long days were normal. There were a lot of moving parts, a lot of guests, a lot of pressure, and plenty of moments where you had to think fast, stay polite, and still somehow keep track of what was actually possible.
At the time, it felt straining. Looking back now, I can see how much it taught me.
That season gave me a foundation. Not only in sales, but in sales ethics. There is a big difference between selling something and selling something properly. In tourism, especially in Lapland, you are often selling someone’s once-in-a-lifetime experience. That matters.
People might have dreamed for years about coming here. They might have saved money, planned carefully, brought their children, or travelled from the other side of the world. So when you recommend a tour, answer a question, or explain what is and is not possible, you carry some responsibility.
That was one of the biggest lessons from my first season. The best sale is not always the biggest sale. The best sale is the right tour for the right person, at the right time, with the right expectations.
After surviving the season, I think “surviving” is the correct word here. I was promoted to front desk team leader. But even with that step forward, the general direction and feeling of the company did not quite make me comfortable enough to continue there long-term.
Then I noticed an opening at Bearhill.
Finding Bearhill
I already knew Bearhill in a way, because I had been selling Bearhill tours while working at Wild Nordic. So it was not a completely unknown place to me.
From the sales side, Bearhill already had a good reputation. The tours were easy to stand behind because the product made sense. There was quality, there was care, and there was a clear idea of what kind of experience guests should have.
That made the transition feel natural in one way.
In another way, it was a big change.
I was coming from a snowmobile-focused company into a husky company. And that is not just a change of activity. It is a completely different mindset.
A snowmobile is a machine. Of course, machines need maintenance, fuel, repairs, and respect in their own way. But at the end of the day, if a snowmobile is available, you can usually plan around it quite mechanically.
Dogs are not machines.
That sounds obvious, but from a sales operations point of view, it changes everything.
Now the pulling force behind the sled is alive. It has moods, health, training levels, recovery needs, limits, and good days and bad days. Weather matters. Trail conditions matter. The structure of the dog teams matters. The experience of the guests matters. The workload of the guides matters. Everything is connected.
This is where I have been very grateful to Valentijn, who has been an excellent teacher in understanding how to balance sales with what can actually be done.
Sometimes the answer is yes.
Sometimes the answer is maybe, but only with adjustments.
And sometimes the answer is simply no.
That last one is important. In a good sales environment, refusing a sale can feel counterintuitive. But in a responsible kennel, it is sometimes the only correct option.
Selling something you believe in
One of the nicest things about working in sales at Bearhill is that I have never had to worry whether the tours are good.
That might sound like a small thing, but in sales it is everything.
It is very difficult to sell well if, somewhere in the back of your mind, you are unsure about the product. If you wonder whether the guests will be taken care of, whether the dogs are treated properly, or whether the experience will match what you are promising, the work becomes heavy in the wrong way.
At Bearhill, I have not had that problem.
From the beginning, it has been clear that the dogs come first. The people working with them genuinely have their best interest in mind. Of course, no workplace is perfect. Bearhill is a complex, multilayered operation, and like in any place where people, animals, guests, weather, vehicles, trails, and logistics all meet, there are always things to develop and improve.
But the direction has always felt right. The work is done on the dogs’ terms.
And that gives the sales team a very strong foundation. We are not trying to dress up something average as something excellent. We are trying to communicate honestly what Bearhill is, what the tours are, and which experience is the right fit for each guest.
That suits me.
The dogless sales guy at a husky kennel
There is also one funny detail about my place here.
I am still one of the few people working at Bearhill who does not have a dog of my own. And despite the many offers and hints I have received, I am not planning to get one either.
This sometimes surprises people. After all, working at a husky kennel usually attracts people who are very, very dog-oriented. And don’t get me wrong: I like dogs, but I grew up in a cat household after all.
But my main interest has always been more on the sales, customer service, structure, and development side of the business.
That is also why Bearhill has been a welcoming workplace for me. There is room here for different kinds of people with different strengths. Not everyone has to be a musher. Not everyone has to dream about running a dog team across a frozen wilderness for days.
Some of us are more interested in booking systems, guest communication, tour capacity, product structure, and making sure the person asking a question in August gets the right answer for a tour happening in February.
It might not sound as romantic as standing on the runners behind a team of dogs under the northern lights.
But nerding out of the technical aspects of this business is what I find cool.
A good tour starts long before the guest arrives at the kennel. It starts when they first read about us, when they ask questions, when they choose the right product, when expectations are set correctly, and when the booking is made in a way that actually works for everyone involved.
That is the part of Bearhill I enjoy developing.
Learning by Trying
One thing I appreciate here is that trying new things is allowed.
That does not mean every idea works perfectly right away. They don’t. Sometimes we test something, and the result is not exactly what we hoped for. Sometimes we need to adjust the process, rewrite the information, change how we communicate, or admit that an idea made more sense in theory than in practice.
But that is fine.
There is an atmosphere here where mistakes are allowed, as long as we learn something from them and at the very least have an idea how to improve upon the failures.
For me, that is important. Working in sales is not just about repeating the same routine forever. Guest behaviour changes. Booking patterns change. The market changes. The winter season changes. Even the way people read, compare, and choose tours changes.
So we need to keep learning too.
And when the workplace gives space for that, it becomes much easier to grow.

A stable place to build from
On a personal level, Bearhill has also become part of a very important chapter in my life.
Since starting here, our family has grown to three. My son turned two in April, and we have moved into our own house.
Those are big things.
Work is never only work. It affects the rest of life. Having a stable workplace, a team you trust, and a role where you feel useful makes a difference outside office hours too. It gives structure. It gives security. It gives room to build a life.
For that, I am grateful.
More to come
So that is, in short, how I ended up here.
From Kurtakko to Tornio, from studies to Rovaniemi, from a hectic front desk season to Bearhill, and from selling snowmobile tours to learning how to sell husky experiences in a way that respects both guests and dogs.
I am happy to be here.
And since I have now officially hijacked the blog, I will be writing a few more posts soon about the topics closest to my own role: sales, customer service, tour planning, and why sometimes the most responsible thing we can say to a guest is no.
Stay tuned.
— Teemu Sara
Sales Team Leader & Sales Operations Manager
Bearhill Husky



