Polar Bared Read Free

distance, might not have prepared her for the arctic, but she could learn. If she didn’t freeze to death first.
    Brrrr.
    Setting off on foot, her boots sporting crampons, which were much like the golf spikes on her husband’s golf shoes, she went in search of things to observe. While she was really interested in the study of polar bears, she wouldn’t ignore other wildlife.
    Snow geese, arctic foxes, seals, and even walruses would make welcome additions to her notes. With the age of digital cameras and virtual cloud storage, she could snap images to her heart’s content. When it came to tagging and tracking specimens, she hadn’t managed to score any of the prized collars with the electronic sensors to monitor the animals’ every move. Those were reserved for the more intrepid researchers. Then again, that was probably for the best, as she doubted she’d actually find an animal cooperative enough to let her place one around its neck. With my luck, if I do find an animal, it will be because I accidentally trip over it or it’s hungry. Gulp.
    Considering she was wandering around on her own, it might be a good idea to not imagine the various things that could happen to her should the wildlife not prove welcoming.
    In order to make her first excursion easy, she followed the sea’s edge. She walked, for an hour, and didn’t spot a thing. The vast white plain stretched before her, a gleaming, blinding mass with dips and swells and the occasional dangerous crevice. The dark water lapped at the edge, bereft of the movement that would have indicated life.
    It was only when she stopped to take out her binoculars that she revised her plan to turn around after an hour. Thus far, the ridge she’d walked along rose as a sheer bluff from the water. But, through the far-scrying lenses, she could see in the distance a change in the vista. Slopes led down to flat shelves, frozen beaches of sorts.
    I need to go there. She knew from her studies that many arctic residents preferred to hang out by sea ice. Decided, she packed away her binoculars and set off again.
    And that was when things began to go wrong. As usual.
    It took her about thirty minutes to reach the edge of an embankment, which sloped down instead of sheering off. A worthwhile walk because, lo and behold, she caught her first hint of life. A lonely seal pup, head bobbing in the sluggish current.
    Excited, she unslung her camera and snapped a few shots. As if preening for her, the seal waddled onto shore and gave her a lovely profile to photograph. Vicky forgot the cold and discomfort as, for the first time since she’d begun this trek, she felt like a real researcher. One who needed to get closer to get the best images possible.
    A quick peek around showed the dark blue water lapping at the icy ledge found at the foot of the hill. However, there was no safe or easy way down, not for a girl whose only experience climbing involved stairs when the elevator was out of service. And I cussed and huffed the entire time.
    But survived it. What was it those buff trainers at the gym told her, no pain, no gain? She could do this.
    “You stay right there, Mr. Seal,” she muttered. “I’m not done with you yet.”
    Determined to locate an easier angle of descent, she decided to go a little farther, but only after a long pull from her Thermos of the barely warm stuff that called itself coffee, bitter tasting even with the loads of sugar dumped in it.
    Perhaps it was the hot shining sun, or the fact that, as she went to tuck her coffee canister away, she fumbled her knapsack and dropped it. Whatever the reason, as she bent to grab her bag, a wave of dizziness struck. Whoa.
    Lightheaded, she blinked a few times and shook her head. It didn’t do much to dispel the odd lethargy invading her body. How odd. She took a step and wobbled on her feet. Another step and she slid on a patch of ice—cleats or not.
    She windmilled her arms in an attempt to regain her balance and failed. With