HLM -Chapter 1164 Ice and Snow

Wang Bo felt the same way—Alaska was no place for fun and games. This season was the coldest of the year, and temperatures hitting minus twenty degrees Celsius could feel like extreme play.

Eva didn’t insist. She said, “Then I won’t go with you this time, darling. Make sure you take good care of yourself while you’re there.”

Wang Bo patted his chest confidently. “Don’t worry. Don’t you know your man? If there’s any danger, I’ll be the first to run.”

Dale piped up, “Brother-in-law! Brother-in-law, take me with you! I’ll take care of you instead of my sister.”

Since it was school holidays, the little girl didn’t really have anything else to do, but Wang Bo was worried she might get into trouble and refused to let her come.

Eva said, “Take Dale with you. She was born in ice and snow, and with her thick skin, I’m sure she won’t feel the cold anywhere else either.”

She liked letting the little girl explore more. Raising a girl with wealth wasn’t just about giving her money, but expanding her horizons and enriching her inner world. That way, when she eventually stepped out into society, she wouldn’t be easily fooled or manipulated.

Normally, if someone said she had thick skin, the little girl would argue. But this time, she obediently accepted it and nodded, “Yes, yes! Dale has thick skin and can withstand the cold!”

Wang Bo lightly ruffled her hair. “But once you’re there, you must behave. Otherwise, I’ll leave you behind and not bring you back.”

Dale swore in every way imaginable—God, Bodhisattva, Buddha, all the deities of the sky, and even the Nordic gods were invoked.

And so, the two of them set off on their journey with two dogs, two fat cats, and a plump arctic fox.

The plane flew from Wellington to Lima, Peru’s capital. After a stopover in Lima, it flew to Seattle, USA, then made another stop before finally reaching Juneau, the capital of Alaska.

Alaska sits at the northwest corner of the North American continent, bordering Canada to the east and surrounded by the Arctic Ocean, the Bering Sea, and the North Pacific on the other three sides.

The state is home to 17 of the 20 highest mountain ranges in the U.S., with Denali, at 6,194 meters, being the tallest peak in North America. Most of the world’s active glaciers are in Alaska, with the Malaspina Glacier covering 5,703 square kilometers.

Alaska spans 1.71 million square kilometers and was once Russian territory.

After the Crimean War broke out in 1853, Russia feared Britain might seize Alaska and proposed selling it to the U.S. The deal was completed in April 1867 for $7.2 million. That is, Russia sold the land at about four dollars per square kilometer—a historical case of a “lavish giveaway” by the Russian Tsarist government.

When people think of Alaska, they imagine ice, snow, and howling winds. In reality, the land is vast. The southeastern and central-southern parts have a temperate climate, with annual temperatures ranging from 0°C to 15°C—not too cold. Inland, it’s continental: summer has the midnight sun with temperatures up to 26°C, while winter brings polar nights with temperatures down to -15°C. The real cold is within the Arctic Circle, where it stays below zero year-round, often dropping to -40 or -50°C.

The Iditarod is a route, not a region. Originally, it connected coastal villages with inland mining camps, delivering mail and supplies in while transporting gold out. Dogsleds handled this work, giving sled dogs an elevated status in the region.

In 1925, sled dogs played a heroic role. Diphtheria broke out in Nome, which had only 1,400 people, and they called Anchorage for help. At the time, Nome faced both the diphtheria outbreak and continuous blizzards, and small open-seat planes couldn’t fly safely.

In this emergency, the governor of Alaska organized a relay of 20 dog teams to transport the serum to Nome. On January 26, 1925, the diphtheria serum was transported by rail to Nenana, west of Fairbanks. On the night of January 27, the first dog team set out.

The route lay around 64°N during the polar night. Most of it was traveled in darkness, with temperatures below -35°C, plunging as low as -50°C. On February 2, at dawn, the first batch of serum reached Nome—a 1,125 km journey completed in 127 hours, less than five days and five hours.

Today’s race commemorates this heroic rescue. The modern route differs from the original; nobody would survive racing in -30°C to -40°C conditions. Many introductions to the race exist, but few mention that many sled dogs died of exhaustion during the Nome rescue.

Now it’s a race, not a death mission. Aside from distance, everything else has been adjusted.

After landing at Juneau International Airport, they still needed to drive to Anchorage, where the race starts. Anchorage is Alaska’s largest city.

Dale asked, “If the race starts in Anchorage, why don’t we land there? They have an airport too, we learned that in geography class.”

Wang Bo explained, “Because Anchorage is like Nome in 1925—it’s experiencing a blizzard, so the plane can’t land. We have to get there by land.”

They took a bus equipped with dog seats—many people brought their dogs along. Dogsleds are vital here, but when cars exist, they are faster and more comfortable. Still, the dogs couldn’t be left behind, so the bus had special cages installed for them.

The bus slowly plowed through wind and snow, all around them a blinding white.

Dale pressed against the window, but Wang Bo pulled her back—prolonged exposure could cause snow blindness and damage her eyes.

The white fox and the fat cats stayed glued to the window, fascinated by the icy scene outside, sneering at the little girl: humans are so fragile, they can go blind just by looking at snow.

After a grueling day’s journey, the bus finally entered Anchorage at night. The city was huge, covering 5,000 square kilometers with a population of over 300,000. Yet at night, Wang Bo felt like they had arrived in the middle of nowhere—there seemed to be no sign of life at all.