“I think the salmon are impressive,” Mari said. “They put all they’ve got into this trip. Their bodies change so that they can function in the river’s fresh water after being in salt water their entire adult lives. It’s pretty crazy.”
“How do they know where to go?” Russell asked.
“It’s kind of a mystery,” Mari said. “Scientists think it might be their sense of smell.”
Dev tried to wrap his head around that: the fact that the fish trusted their instincts to lead them back to where they had been born. That wasn’t the way Dev thought at all. He’d want proof, a landmark or something. No way would he just smell his way somewhere.
On top of everything else, Dev knew Mari was leaving out one key fact. The salmon died after they spawned. This journey would be their last.
“Okay, I’ll admit, I could watch this all day, but let’s not forget why we’re here.” Leave it to Sage to get them back on track.
Dev had been so captivated that he had almost forgotten to snap the photo. He slipped out the ancam and focused in on one of the mighty bears. With the trees blocking some of the sunlight, he was able to get a good shot. “Got it,” he said as he sent the image to Bull Gordon, the rugged spokesperson for The Wild Life. He was certain Bull would approve it.
The teams had only seen the world-class adventurer at the start and finish of each leg, but Bull Gordon’s big personality seemed to cheer them through each challenge. At no point did Bull suggest that the race was a battle of man versus nature. He insisted people had a responsibility to respect and protect the wild world. The more Dev learned, the more he felt the same.
Almost immediately, he felt the familiar buzz of the ancam. “We’ve got our next clue!” he announced. He read aloud.
No little dears,
New in spring, deadly in fall,
Branching like leaves,
On the largest of all.
“Now that’s not bad,” Dev said when he had finished. All throughout the race, he had cringed at the forced poetry of the clues. Dev liked a good pun, but he hated a bad rhyme.
“I’m glad you think the clue deserves extra credit for creative merit, but do you have any idea what it means?” Sage questioned. The skin between her eyebrows creased into a deep V as she read the clue again. They all looked to Mari.
“We can figure this out,” Mari answered. “I know little dear isn’t spelled like the animal, but it’s an obvious hint.”
“I’m pretty sure largest of them all is, too,” Dev added. “The largest deer is the moose, but they don’t just want a picture of a moose.”
“They want the antlers,” Russell realized. “Only the male moose have them. They grow new ones in the spring and then fight with them in the fall. The bigger the better.”
“Nice work, guys,” Sage said with a smile, and the V instantly disappeared. “So where do we find a set of those big antlers?”
“Attached to a big moose,” Dev answered.
CREATURE FEATURE
MOOSE
SCIENTIFIC NAME: Alces alces
TYPE: mammal
RANGE: widely spread across northern sections of North America and Asia
FOOD: aquatic plants like grasses and lily pads, twigs, bark, even pinecones
Besides being the largest deer, the moose is the only deer that can feed in the water. Equipped with nostrils that can seal shut, moose wade into streams and rivers to eat aquatic plants. They can even dive underwater to escape a wolf—or nasty, nippy bugs—for up to 30 seconds.
With its long, skinny legs, droopy muzzle, and floppy throat flap, the moose might look like a mess of odd features, but its body is fully functional. Those legs help it run exceptionally well—up to thirty-five miles per hour. A calf can outrun a human when it’s just five days old! Its nose gives the moose a super sense of smell. And the flap of skin hanging from its throat is called a bell. Scientists are not sure what it does yet!
With the way Dev’s brain worked, he sometimes couldn’t stop himself from making a bad joke. But he took a lot of things seriously, which was part of the reason he was in charge of the GPS. The other part was that he loved gadgets. At home, he took apart old phones and radios just for fun.
His grandparents had given him a book called The Way Things Work when he was six. He had secretly read it after bedtime and slept with it under his pillow for weeks before his mom found out. She’d laughed as she shook her head. “You’re just like your father,” she’d said.
Because he had the GPS, it was Dev’s job to help the red team find the fastest—and safest—route to the moose’s roaming grounds.
“Do we really have to stick to this trail?” Sage asked, easing her way along the thin path. A steep cliff rose on one side, and a ridge dropped on the other. “We aren’t looking for a mountain goat.”
“Yeah, I thought moose were more common on the forest floor,” Russell added.
“That’s true,” Mari said.
“We need to wait until a marked path branches off downhill,” Dev said. “Or else we could set off a rock slide.” Dev made it sound casual, but he had thought it through. In this part of Alaska, snow might cling to the ground until April or May, when it would finally melt. Dev knew that the extra water had to go somewhere. Plus, there’d been a downpour the night before. That much wetness would make the ground unstable, which meant rockslides. Dev had already seen several piles of rubble at the bottom of the ridge.
He scanned the horizon. What a view: blue skies, the deep green peaks of endless evergreen trees, crystal-white mountaintops in the distance. You couldn’t see anything like this in a computer lab. Looking out over the expanse almost made Dev forget that world even existed.
“There’s a lake over that way,” he pointed out. “A good path has to head down to it soon. That’s our best bet.”
They walked for forty minutes and passed a few rocky trails heading down the mountain that Dev quickly nixed as too dangerous. Finally they found one that looked clear, and took it. Dev was sure they’d lost time, but he was also certain it was smart to play it safe.
“At last. Thank goodness,” Sage said, wiping the sweat from her forehead. The temperature was pleasantly mild for summer—comfortable for hiking in long sleeves and cargo pants—but the sun was strong and they were moving fast.
The new path eased downward with brush and bushes growing on either side. As they descended, the air grew still. Evergreen branches arched over them, a natural shelter from the sun. But they didn’t keep the bugs out.
“Where did these mosquitos come from?” Russell asked, using both hands to shoo the pests from his face.
“Technically?” Dev asked. “They came from eggs. Then larva. Then pupae.”
“Um, I wasn’t asking for a report on the life cycle of the mosquito,” Russell said.
Dev had meant it to be funny, but nothing seemed very funny when under attack by a swarm of blood-thirsty insects. Dev’s arms were growing tired of swatting.
“They’re worse down here because there’s no wind,” Dev tried again. “And we’re getting closer to water.”
“I feel like there’s a big sign above my head that reads, ‘Hey, mosquitos! All you can eat buffet! Come and get it!’?” Russell complained.
“There are at least thirty-five different species of mosquitos in Alaska,” Javier said from the back of the line. “They’re part of the reason we suggested you dress in layers. The less skin exposed, the better.”
“Some people call them the state bird of Alaska,” Mari commented. “Because they get so big here.” Dev frowned. It was a silly saying. Mosquitos weren’t anything like birds. They were insects: cold-blooded, six-legged beasts. Not all insects even had wings. Plus, there was the whole not having feathers thing.
Right now, Dev felt the “cold-blooded” part was especially true of the mosquitos. They showed no mercy!
“These things are big enough to show up on satellite,” Russell huffed.
“They aren’t ne
arly as big as that guy,” Sage announced, suddenly whispering.
The group stumbled to a stop, huddled right behind Sage. They had come to the edge of a wide streambed. On the other side, a moose was easing its way into the slow-moving water. Its long, skinny legs looked like toothpicks under its large, hairy brick of a body.
Dev unzipped his jacket and slid out the ancam. Leaning forward, he snapped a shot with the moose’s large antlers at the center. Unlike those of a deer, the moose’s antlers had the shape of a leaf with many sharp prongs poking out.
“Gorgeous,” he murmured. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Russell smirk.
“Did you get it?” Sage asked. “Are you sure the picture isn’t of a cloud of mosquitos?”
“I’m sure,” Dev said with a smile. Sage had always been one to ask pointed questions, but she had recently developed a sense of humor about it. “And I have the next clue to prove it,” Dev added, studying the ancam screen. “It’s a map with a red pin. The place marked is on the lake we saw from the trail above. Let’s go.”
CREATURE FEATURE
MOSQUITO
SCIENTIFIC NAME: Culicidae
TYPE: insect
RANGE: worldwide
FOOD: females—blood; males—nectar
Mosquitos have four life stages: egg, larva, pupa, and adult. All stages live in water except the adult. Female mosquitos lay their eggs in late summer. In most species, the eggs live through the winter and do not begin growing into the next stage until the water warms up in late spring.
Because there is a lot of standing and slow-moving water in Alaska after the snow melts, it’s a prime habitat for mosquitos.
Only female mosquitos feed on blood. Each female has a needle-like mouthpart that pierces human and animal skin and injects saliva. The saliva contains a chemical that keeps the blood from clotting.
Why does skin puff up and get itchy? It’s usually from an allergic reaction to the insect’s saliva.
“Seriously?” Sage stared into the sky. The others shielded their eyes from the sun as they looked to the far end of the lake. They had followed Dev’s every direction to the highlighted location, but all they found was the dwindling exhaust of a small plane. It was only a couple hundred feet above the lake’s surface, and had to have just taken off. “This is right where the clue led us. How did someone beat us here?”
It was a rhetorical question. Sage didn’t expect anyone to answer, but Dev had to stop himself from commenting. There was only one explanation: He’d taken them the long way around the ridge to avoid rockslides, and it had cost them time. It was his fault they’d been left choking on the plane’s fumes.
“Wait. There’s a new pin on the map,” Dev informed Team Red. “It’s just north of here, right on the lake.”
“We have to hike farther?” Mari asked. “That hardly seems fair.”
“At least the mosquitos aren’t as bad in the sun,” Javier said, trying to sound upbeat. Dev appreciated that.
“Should we be keeping quiet?” Sage wondered. “What if we scare off all the animals? We never know when a new clue is going to just pop up on the ancam. ”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Javier reassured them. “It’s best to let the animals know you’re here, grizzlies especially. You don’t want to catch them off guard. After all, this is their home, their territory. We have to respect that.”
Instead of talking like Javier had suggested, everyone fell silent, thinking about this wild place and all the animals that lived with its extreme weather—sunny and warm with plentiful food in the summer; harsh and cold, bitter and bare in the winter.
“It’s getting kind of late, isn’t it?” Sage asked after a while. “Maybe we should try to speed up. What if we have to get a shot from the plane? It’d be hard in the dark.”
That was just like Sage, always thinking. But Dev was one step ahead of her. “It won’t get dark for a long time,” Dev said. “We’re in Alaska, Land of the Midnight Sun. Because of the tilt of Earth, the days are especially long near the North Pole in the summer. And they’re especially short in the winter. If we can get to that next plane first, we’ll be fine.”
The whole team went silent again. Dev’s hiking boots felt heavy on his feet, but he was thankful for them. The bank of the lake was marshy and scattered with rocks. For stretches, the pine trees grew right up to the water, forcing the team to climb around the long slick needles and pinecones that littered the embankment. And like almost everywhere they’d looked since they landed in Alaska, up ahead were mountains, frosted on top with everlasting snow.
“There it is!” Sage cried as they emerged from a cluster of trees.
On cue, they all started running.
The plane was pulled up to a short dock. Instead of wheels, it had what looked like large torpedoes that rested on the water. Of course, they weren’t torpedoes. They were pontoons, full of air and buoyant enough to keep the whole plane afloat. Dev had always been amazed that a plane could take off on water, using almost the exact same physics that it did on land. The plane just needed the pontoons, and its propeller, wings, and flaps would get it in the air the exact same way.
The team scrambled into the back of the plane as Javier introduced himself to the pilot, who wore a baseball hat and a fishing vest.
“We have the next clue,” Dev said after checking the ancam. “It’s long.” Dev began to read, trying to project over the rhythmic whir of the propeller charging up.
From water to sky
On this landmass
None is as high.
From there, head west
To track down a pack
That is tracking down a herd
In which all wear a rack.
To finish the clue, you must submit three photos.
Dev still didn’t get why the clues had to rhyme. At least it made sense. Dev was pretty sure he knew two of the answers. “The first one has to be Mount McKinley,” he announced. “It’s the highest peak on the continent.” The rest of the team nodded. “And we all know which animal is famous for hunting in a pack.” They nodded again. “What about the last one?”
“Well, ‘rack’ is another term for antlers, right?” Mari began. She glanced around the cramped cabin. “And female caribou have antlers, as well as males. Caribou are the only deer like that. I think that’s what they mean by ‘all.’ Of course, the young reindeer don’t have them, so you can’t say it’s a real fact.”
“And you can’t say that the clue is real poetry, but I guess it’s close enough.” Dev started punching buttons on the GPS. “Just a second,” he murmured. “Double-checking the coordinates.” After some more button pushing, he had directions to give the pilot. Dev was determined that they would make up the time they’d lost.
Dev watched out the window as the plane teetered off the lake. He had never been in a small plane before. The engine was noisy, and the sky was all around. As the plane gained height, Dev thought about how the plane defied the pull of gravity toward the center of Earth. His dad always said that physics was everywhere.
But Dev didn’t want to think about physics. He wanted to think about Mount McKinley, then wolves and caribou. After all, he wasn’t at science camp.
“You guys might want to rest,” Javier suggested. “We’ll be in the plane for a while.”
“I’ll keep track of our progress,” Dev said to the rest of the team, glancing at the GPS in his lap.
“I’ll stay up with you,” Russell offered.
“Then we’ll take the second shift,” Sage said as she wadded a jacket into a makeshift pillow and leaned her head against the window. Mari nodded and did the same. Dev noticed that she looked a little sick.
After climbing steadily for a while, the plane leveled off. They flew through wispy clouds. “Cloud cover is always worse in the summer,” the pilot announced from the front seat. “Lots of folks come to Alaska and don’t even get to see Denali.”
“Denali is a native name for Mount McKinley?�
�� Dev asked.
“Yes,” the pilot replied. “It translates to ‘The High One.’?”
At that moment, the clouds seemed to part dramatically, and they could see that the High One was truly high.
MCKINLEY OR DENALI?
The highest mountain in Alaska has had many names in many different languages. Since 1896, it has been called Mount McKinley, after President McKinley. However, the president never actually set foot in Alaska. For this reason, many believe the state’s most impressive peak should be officially retitled using one of the names chosen by the native people. Denali means “The High One” in Athabaskan. Denali is also the name of the national state park where the peak is located.
Mount McKinley is 20,237 feet (6,168 meters) high, and temperatures on the summit can get as low as minus 95 degrees Fahrenheit (minus 60 degrees Celsius). The snow on the top half of the mountain never melts. This mountain is part of the 600-mile Alaska Range, which is over sixty-five million years old.
Geologically speaking, it is not a volcano. It is a mass of magma, or underground lava, that cooled under the Earth’s surface long ago. Over millions of years, the tectonic plates below have moved and pushed the mass upward. It is still growing—about one millimeter each year.
“Whoa, it’s huge,” Russell said, leaning forward to gaze out. The view of the mountain filled the airplane window. The colors were so deep, they hardly appeared real: the dense green of the forest at the base; the varied grays of the lower ridges, shadowed with midnight blue; and the glimmering whites of the wind-battered ice and snow on the jagged peaks.
Dev forced himself to look away so he could check the GPS and the map. “Is this the South Summit?” he asked. “Because we need the highest peak.”
Russell grabbed a corner of the map so they could both see it. Dev pointed to their location. “The North Summit is the second highest point. I don’t want to get the wrong one.”
Arctic Freeze Page 2
