‘It’s so quiet,’ I remark, more to myself than anyone else. Trillions of trees surround us, the hemlocks the only ones keeping their green leaves, now painted with snow.

‘If it wasn’t winter, we’d be making a lot of noise to keep the bears away,’ my father explains.

‘Don’t need the gun or bear spray or bells either,’ Jaxon adds. ‘You know, a kid at my school was killed by a bear last year?’

‘Seriously? That’s terrible.’

‘He was running on a track through the state park next to town and sent a text to his mum saying he saw a bear. She tried calling, but there was no answer. The park services found his body.’

‘Far out.’

‘Yeah. You know what we say in Alaska? “If it’s black, fight back, but if it’s brown, lie down.” He did lie down, but it didn’t matter in the end.’

‘You mean black bears versus grizzly bears?’

‘Right.’ Jaxon nods. ‘And I haven’t even started on the moose—the females with young are the most dangerous of all.’

‘Stop scaring her,’ my father says.

We continue walking, every so often stopping, and as they huddle over the map I catch my breath.

Adam takes out one of those thingies that tell you which direction you’re going in. He squints at the sky, scans the horizon and then drops his gaze back to the map. His face is relaxed; he looks in his element, at home. And he and Jaxon are tuned into each other.

‘Back this way,’ my father says and we U-turn, retracing our steps. I want to ask, Are we there yet? but stop myself. The last thing I want is my mountain-man father to think I’m some useless city girl, even if I am.

‘A little more to the west, over that hill.’ Jaxon points.

‘Do people ski here?’ I ask.

‘All the time. Do you know how?’

‘Nope.’