Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Chapter 3
Miranda
I bundle up before I head out the next morning. The snow flurries stopped, which is good, because I didn’t want to wait to start my research. And I’m glad I made it up here yesterday, because the roads would probably be icy today. I’m just counting on the weather clearing after a few days so I can get home at the end of the week.
Bear stands at the door, turning in circles with excitement over going for a walk.
“You want outside, boy? You ready for our hike?” I egg him on.
He whirls again, paws prancing with readiness, furry tail wagging. I love this dog. Really—he makes my day on a regular basis.
“Okay, let’s go, then.” I pull on my leather gloves. They’re not as warm as big insulated mittens, but I have work to do out there, and I’ll need individual fingers.
I grab my backpack which has everything I require in it: my tablet, battery pack charger, snacks for lunch and a water bottle. I bring my phone for emergencies, although reception is so bad out here, I doubt it would do any good.
As soon as I open the door, wind hits us. I gasp out loud, then laugh at my reaction. “Damn, it’s cold, isn’t it buddy?”
Bear charged out into the snow, rushing around to re-investigate every snow-covered bush he already sniffed and peed on when he went out this morning. He pays particular attention to the side of the cabin where the bear—the real bear—stood last night.
I wrap my scarf tighter around my face, leaving only my eyes uncovered and tucking the edges into my coat to stuff all the weak points where the wind cuts right through me. I look up at the sky. It’s sunny now, but clouds are moving in from the north. I need to plan to be back to the cabin by lunchtime in case another storm comes in.
“We’ll have to keep the research short today, won’t we, boy?”
Bear bounds in front of me like the snow was a gift just for him.
It’s easy to follow the road, even though it’s covered in snow, and I know the trails well enough. Staying cooped up in the cabin all day without having research numbers to crunch doesn’t sound fun. If I can at least get started today, I’ll feel better.
I trudge through the accumulation, which is knee deep in places. It hits above my boots and clings to my jeans in little ice-balls. Damn. I’m going to get too cold very fast.
Bear doesn’t seem to mind. He’s still bounding around, zipping ahead of me to investigate, then tunneling back through the snow.
“You’d make a good sled dog, wouldn’t you, Bear? Wish I had a sled today, that would make this much easier.” Or skis. Or snowshoes. This is insane.
It takes me three times longer than usual to make it to the trailhead. I push on, cutting off onto the trail and following it up on a slow ascent.
I start by setting up my plot—marking off an acre of land as my sample area. Then I begin, starting with the first giant ponderosa tree. I take a core sample to take back to the lab to examine the rings. I’m studying the effects of climate change on trees, and it’s measurable. Soon I’ll have enough data to prove it and finally get some credit as a researcher at the University of New Mexico.
“Observe the female of the species,” I say in my documentary-narrator voice. “Relegated to home life in past centuries, breakthroughs in contraception allow her greater freedom and control of her professional life. She is able to accept duties and responsibilities equal to her male colleagues, at eighty percent of their take home pay. Perceived as the weaker sex, she endures the males’ posturing and attempts at bullying as the price of entry into the workplace.” At least until I secure funding for my project. Then it’s “Sayonara, suckas!” I squeeze my fingers to warm them up, and get to work.
For the next couple of hours, I continue gathering my samples. With the snow, it’s hard to stay on the trail, but I’m fairly confident I have. It doesn’t much matter—returning to the cabin will be easy. All I have to do is follow our footprints in the snow.
I’m about to stop and have a snack when the wind whips up. I didn’t realize the clouds had moved in, blotting out the sun.
Damn. No time for a break. We need to get back to the cabin before the storm hits. I whistle for Bear. Wind blasts my face and cuts through my clothing. It whips around in gusts, making it unclear if it started snowing or if it’s just stirring up the snow that fell yesterday.
I mutter in my David Attenborough impersonation, “Weather patterns are susceptible to great change in the mountains. Warm days—enough to wake a hibernating bear—followed by drops in temperature that precipitate winter storms—” A sharp wind cuts across my throat, and I give up the mini documentary gag. It’s cold as hell. I need to get out of here.