Using your own word, explain what the writer means by each of the words underlined:
“As the sky gradually turned indigo in the fading light, the scraping of ice and frantic unheeded
commands to my sled dog-team broke the stillness. Thundering down the frozen waterway, I
snatched anxious glimpses over my shoulder. Where was Mike, my guide? Would his tracker
still pick up my signal with the gap between us increasing by the minute?”
In this article, journalist Lyn Marshall looks back at her adventure holiday in Alaska.
As the sky gradually turned indigo in the fading light, the scraping of ice and frantic unheeded
commands to my sled dog-team broke the stillness. Thundering down the frozen waterway,
I snatched anxious glimpses over my shoulder. Where was Mike, my guide? Would his
tracker still pick up my signal with the gap between us increasing by the minute?
Out exploring that Friday evening, an irresistible scent had wafted by my lead dog’s keen
nose. Following primal instincts over my feeble instructions, he’d wheeled around, leading
his obliging pack in the opposite direction at full speed! Applying all my weight to the hook
brake saved me from fishtailing wildly from side to side but did nothing to slow the dogs’
enthusiastic charge.
From my evening chats with Mike over the last few days, I knew that if we lost each other
entirely, I was in trouble. I had nothing – no extra clothing, no shelter, but more importantly,
nothing to start a fire. We’d seen wolf tracks regularly, so fire seemed particularly important
to me at that moment.
* * *
It was March, the tail end of the long, cold winter. Roads were closed, rivers were frozen,
and access into the region was limited.
Still spellbound from gazing at the enormity of the Alaskan wilderness, I’d stepped down
from the mail-plane into the miniature perfection of Eagle, a fascinating, history-packed
hamlet of timber dwellings, home to just 85 residents. I was immediately wrapped in the
customary bear hug by Mike’s wife, Scarlett, and cocooned in layers of Arctic-grade outerwear.
Mike and Scarlett live sustainably, hunting, fishing and gathering, consciously leaving a
minimal carbon footprint. They’ve enjoyed many years of wilderness expeditions using
traditional dog-sleds and now provide opportunities for adventurous souls to experience their
eco-lifestyle first hand.
Driving a dog-sled is harder than it looks. As Mike’s passenger, I realised it involved constant
corrective manoeuvres anticipating the dog-team’s next move (they only ever do what they
want to) and possible camber (tilt in the trail).
In theory lessons, Mike’s diagrams emphasised that the ‘ice highway’ can be anything from
porcelain smooth to oversized ice cubes (slam into one of those and you’d need your
emergency messaging device), but winding through spruce forests tracing soft, snow-covered
lines is a precious delight. Criss-crossing a small lake’s glassy surface, I looked down to see
exquisite designs – crystal bubbles of all shapes and sizes suspended in time, cascading
into the dark depths.
There were, of course, many thrills and spills. Losing control on one adrenalin-charged
downhill run, I tipped sideways onto the snow. My happy, yappy team continued on, their
inept operator hanging on single-handedly, thankful for the padded trousers provided.
Homework.
“Still spellbound from gazing at the enormity of the Alaskan wilderness, I’d
stepped down from the mail-plane into the miniature perfection of Eagle, a
fascinating, history-packed hamlet of timber dwellings, home to just 85
residents. I was immediately wrapped in the customary bear hug by Mike’s
wife, Scarlett, and cocooned in layers of Arctic-grade outerwear.”
