Reading the North

By Hugh Rowland with Michael Lent (Hyperion, $24.99)

The blurb: A fleet of specialized truckers deliver materials above the Arctic Circle on a temporary natural road made out of 16 inch ice.

Excerpt: "Narrow, and rougher than a gravedigger's nut sack, Denison's roads were not easy even under the best circumstances. This was not the best of circumstances. Before leaving, we topped off our fuel tanks, poured methyl hydrate into our brake and fuel lines, and stocked up on food and water just in case we got stuck. We did radio checks and made sure that dispatch knew where we were headed. We knew that if we got stopped by the storm, we would be stuck there for a couple of days.

"The snowdrifts were as high as our trucks. We were boxed in on both sides. There was nothing but blackness beyond the small arc of our lights. The wind harassed us every foot of the way. I bludgeoned and knifed my way through snow drifts piled high in front of my bumper. Sometimes I'd slam into a mound so hard that the snow would shoot high into the air. The road was deeply rutted and we swung hard back and forth with each jarring drop. The cab creaked and torqued even as the engine strained and roared. As we slowly rumbled and sledgehammered along, I told Paul, 'Whatever you do, don't stop. Just keep coming no matter what. If you stop, you'll never get going again.' "

Arctic Circle: Birth and Rebirth in the Land of the Caribou

By Robert Leonard Reid (David R. Godine, $27.95)

The blurb: On his 60th birthday Robert Leonard Reid decided to take his first trip to the Arctic National Wildlife Reserve. Reid's travels center around the Porcupine Caribou heard that inhabit the region and his own connection to the land and life.

Excerpt: "Something was there. Yes -- Jesus! -- caribou! They were tiny. They were little statues. I began to distinguish bodies: three at first, then five, then another I hadn't noticed, half-hidden by one of the first. Finally, perhaps, stretching it, nine caribou, now moving, pacing at the river's edge. I drank them in, cool water after a long day in the sun. I counted again, watched one put its nose to the icy Kongakut, watched another walk away from its mates; attempted desperately to make sense of what I was seeing. Caribou! Just gazing seemed insufficient. I wanted to be closer to them. I wanted to touch them! I was crazy with excitement, at the same time thoroughly flummoxed by the fact that I had no idea what to do with my craziness. My rational mind pestered me: What does it mean to see something after months of imagining that you are seeing it? Which is better, the seeing or the imagining? At the same time some other part of me simply wailed: How can I hold on to this moment?"

-- Compiled by Gretchen Weiss, Anchorage Daily News