AMC Outdoors, June 2002

A single moose antler — not the whole rack — is part of her table display. Bryce lifts it and is amazed at its weight — it really doesn't look that heavy. Sarah says it weighs about 20 pounds.

"A whole family of mice can live under a set of antlers like this. They'll hide and be safe from predators and eat all their meals right here," Sarah tells us. "That's why you should never pick up skulls or bones." Both kids glance at me conspiratorially, for we all share the passion of collecting such treasures as we hike. Again, we're all learning something on this trip.

The presentation is very tactile. She hands around a rubber mold of a moose track and invites us to rub our hands in the grooves. By feeling its depth, we can sense the immense weight of the animal and the surprising roundness of each half of its hoof.

Sarah then takes a coffee can with a string attached, wets the string, and tells Sierra to pull it slowly through the plastic lid. "It sounds like a moose is in there!" Sierra exclaims.

"Different-sized cans make different calls — even frog calls," Sarah tells us.

The kids beg, "Can we make some when we get home?" I say yes, but direct their attention back to Sarah. She's describing how moose can swim 5 mph, can run as fast as 30 mph, and can dive to a depth of 18 feet.

We examine a set of moose teeth and learn that they load up mostly on water plants, bark, lichen, and leaves. Afterwards, we cross the highway to an old beaver pond to search for some of the moose signs Sarah has told us about. Even after a whole day of learning, I'm delighted to see the kids are still into it.

"There's tracks over here! And droppings!" they yell. Sarah shows us how to read the tracks to see the size of the moose and which direction it was headed. We determine from these that a mother moose had just been feeding here with her calf. Just knowing that these massive creatures recently passed this way feels powerful.

We head back to gorge on a big Pinkham dinner and tumble into our bunks — fun all on its own for the kids. We chant repeated goodnights like the Waltons.

Morning dawns clear and bright, and we figure the day will be perfect for exploring the summit of Mount Washington down to Lakes of the Clouds Hut. But before we leave Pinkham, we attend one more workshop by Sarah. She's laid out a collection of "skins and skulls" and we all delight in the "please touch" attitude. The desire to handle things, feel their texture, smell them, is an urge that may be born in us as babies, but soon gets squelched. Todd and I run our hands over these surfaces too.

"That thick beaver pelt is waterproof because the beaver has glands near his butt, in what's called his cloaca, that secrete oil he rubs on his body as a water repellent," Sarah explains.

Bryce sheepishly removes his little hand from the dark fur. "See how high his eye and nose sockets are on his skull?" she asks. "That's so he can keep them out of the water when he swims. They've got three eyelids too, so they don't get water in their eyes."

Beavers are one of the most important creatures we have because they help create wetlands, Sarah explains. If we didn't have beavers, we wouldn't have all the other great swamp organisms and creatures, for swamps are like giant nurseries. After the short workshop, we bid Sarah goodbye for the last time, filled with fascinating images and ideas, and sure that we won't soon forget her.