The extracurricular activities of the middle school students in the “Backpack Club” are anything but ordinary! Fueled by their curiosity, love of science, and an extraordinary backpack, they travel through time searching for answers their science class can’t provide.
Near-peer audio readings are by a high school student, B. Fannin.
Given below is the Spanish version of the video
The story has been divided into 14 pages. Click on the Tabs below to view the pages.
Summer, Jace, and KT looked on as their classmates rushed and pushed each other along the walkway to get to the next enclosure. Walking backwards ahead of the crowd, the zookeeper, Claire, yelled over the chaos, “Ok, we’re going to go to the right at the fork. Next stop, the grey wolves!”
When the group made it to the enclosure, she pointed out the six wolf pups that were romping in the grass. Claire explained that the last litter of pups born at the zoo had been placed in a program to re-introduce grey wolves into areas with over-hunted populations.
At this explanation, some students started talking over each other, yelling questions to Claire: Why are wolves hunted? Where did the wolf pups go? Why are the wolves being re-introduced? Don’t wolves eat deer?
Claire raised her hands to silence the students. “One at a time, please!” She pointed at Jace, indicating that he should ask his question first.
Still standing at the back of the group with his friends, Jace yelled a bit more loudly than necessary, “Why are wolves re-introduced to a habitat? Wouldn’t the extinction of wolves be better for the ecosystem?”
“That’s a good question. A lot of people think that the extinction of predators means that all the other animals in the ecosystem will thrive,” Claire said, “but that’s not the case at all. For example, in Yellowstone National Park, wolves were over-hunted and went extinct in the park. Their disappearance changed the entire ecosystem of the park right down to the paths of the rivers.”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense.” Jace said, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Well, when the wolves disappeared, the elk lost their primary predator, so they were able to reproduce almost uninhibited. A larger elk population means more plants were being eaten, and other animals that relied on those foods began to starve, which started additional cascades of events. For example, because the elk didn’t need to move around the park to evade wolves, they ate too many willow plants. Without the willow plants, beavers couldn’t keep up with their dams, which changed the rivers.”
Jace nodded his head in understanding, and Summer leaned over, whispering “an ecosystem is balanced. When one element is out of its place, it causes all sorts of problems. It’s the circle of life!” Summer eyes gleamed at her mention of their favorite movie. “Talking about the circle of life…. What are you guys doing this weekend? Do you want to come over and watch some movies?” She asked her two friends.
“I just have to write the paper for class, but after I’m done with that. I can come over.” KT said.
“I can’t.” Jace said apologetically. “I’m going on my monthly family camping trip.”
“Oh! I hope you don’t see any wolves.” KT exclaimed, her worrisome personality rising up.
Jace chuckled. “I don’t think we have wolves here, KT. Don’t worry.” Jace looked over at her, smiling at the thought of wolves surrounding their campsite, begging for food like his dog at home.
Jace’s thoughts were murky, almost like his head was filled with fog. He heard music. It sounded far away, and then slowly became more clear. He felt his seat bouncing from the bumpy road. He sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He yawned and then turned to look out the window. He smiled at the sights he saw: They had arrived! He loved camping, so the monthly camping trips with his family were some of his favorite memories.
Soon, the car pulled into their normal campsite, and Jace quickly opened the door. He jumped out of his family’s truck and stretched his legs. The drive was short, but after walking around the zoo for the field trip earlier today, he was exhausted.
“Jace,” his mom called, “go up to the information building and get the key for the water pump.”
Jace turned and jogged up the trail leading to the building where the park rangers checked campers in and sold camping necessities for those who needed them. He slowed to a walk once he was out of sight of the campsite. He spotted a bench nestled in a nook of the woods by the lake. Surrounding the bench were bird feeders: It was a common place for people to sit and bird watch. I wonder if there are any herons? He could often see great blue herons—his favorite birds—wading through the water near the bench.
Walking over to the bench, he looked out over the water. He noticed a green heron, a small, squat, green and red bird, perched on the branches near him, dropping bait into the water to draw the fish to the surface. He thought back to Claire’s lessons on how every animal relies on other animals: Because the green heron drops food into the water, small organisms can eat the food in safety at the bottom of the lake. If the heron didn’t do that, then I wonder what those organisms and fish would eat. He shook his head to clear his thoughts from the rabbit hole he was beginning to go down, and, turning on his heel, he began to walk back up the path.
Ding. Ding. The bell above the door made a sound, letting the park rangers in the back know someone was walking in.
“Hey Jace!” The ranger said. “It’s been a while since y’all have been out here.”
Jace groaned. “Ugh. I know. My brother and I have had a lot of school stuff lately.”
“Well, we’re glad you’re here now. What can I do for you?” The ranger asked.
“Mom said the key for the water pump is missing.”
The ranger turned around, scanning the rack of keys hung on pegs. “Right. We’ve had to limit our water use at the park, so we keep the keys here to limit daytime users using the water pumps.”
Jace looked worried. “Why? Is everything ok?”
The ranger found the key and plucked it off the peg. Turning around, he leaned over the counter, handing the key to Jace. “Kind of. We haven’t had enough rain to refill the water reservoirs. The watersheds are low because we’ve been using more water than what has been replaced with rain. So, just tell your family to only use the water when it’s needed. Ok?”
“Sure thing.” Jace took the key and headed back to the campsite.
At the end of the weekend, Jace and his brother folded the tent to pack it away. They shoved the tent back into the bag before placing it in the back of the truck. Jace climbed into the car, his eyelids heavy. He was tired from all the hiking and kayaking adventures over the past few days.
Eyelids drooping, he peered out of the truck window at the campsite, looking for the tell-tale column of smoke that indicated his dad had put out the fire and would be coming to the truck soon. Jace closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep, looking forward to his warm, comfortable bed at home.
Jace woke up feeling refreshed. Sleeping in a bed was much nicer than the hard ground at the campsite. Jace sighed, I slept well, but I miss the sounds of the birds and the smell of fresh pine.
In Jace’s room, muffled sounds from the TV and the faint scent of syrup lightly filled the air. Dad must be making pancakes, he thought, his stomach rumbling.
He hopped out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. His mom and his brother were at the table watching the local news. His father was at the stove flipping pancakes.
“Good morning, son,” he said smiling. “This batch is almost done. Go sit next to your brother.”
Jace obediently took his place next to his brother who had just taken a huge bite of his pancake. He watched James wash it down with a big gulp of orange juice before setting down the juice glass with a satisfying “Ah.”
James handed the glass to his older brother, “Have some, Jace. It tastes sweeter after drinking only water at the campsite.”
As soon as James said “campsite,” the campground appeared on the TV screen. The local news was showing an image of the park’s entrance where Jace met the park rangers. Below the image was a banner that flashed in red letters, “Breaking News: Fire ravages beloved state park.”
A young female reporter narrated the scene: “Last night, a fire destroyed one of the park’s prominent campsites. Lack of rainfall in the past few months has made the forest unseasonably dry, likely facilitating the start and spread of a fire.”
A diagram of a forest appeared on the screen as the reporter explained how water is cycled through the ecosystem. “Rainfall is stored in the soil, which is then taken up by the roots of the trees and released into the atmosphere as water vapor. Without this crucial mechanism to cool the surrounding climate, a spark is more likely to develop into a full-fledged fire that can ravage forests.”
The screen changed to a video of the burned campsite—or what was left of it. Where the trees once were, there were only blackened and shriveled stumps. Where animals once scurried across the ground, there was only soot and ash. The sky was just as lifeless; there were no birds flying across the smoky expanse. The sight made Jace’s heart sink.
The reporter went on, “The park was a natural ecosystem and home to many native species. Park rangers are currently assessing the damage to determine the best methods for reviving the forest and saving the native plants and animals. It’s not clear at this time if or when the park plans to reopen. This has been your local news with Jean Lagold.”
Jace was still processing the news as his mom changed the channel. Those poor animals. Where will they go now that their home has been destroyed? As his father sat plate of pancakes on the table, he asked the question again, this time out loud.
“The animals will migrate to a new home,” he said, pouring maple syrup on the stack. “Actually, the campground is not that far from the city, so watch out for raccoons getting into the dumpsters.” Mom pointed to James’ half-eaten pancake and gave him a stern look. “And don’t throw any food away!”
“That’s right.” His dad agreed, cutting into the stack of fresh pancakes. “Raccoons will bring diseases to the neighborhood.” He took a big bite and continued talking with a full mouth. “Eventually, the forest will grow back and make a home for new animals.” He turned back to the TV, now on the national news, signaling the end of discussion.
Jace stared down at his pancakes. He had lost his appetite at some point during the report. He pushed his plate away, climbed the stairs, and opened the door to his room.
I can’t believe it, he thought. I was JUST there last night! Smelling the campfire scent from his jacket laying on the floor of his room launched him into memories of this weekend: The crackling of the fire. The wind tugging at his jacket. Raking leaves over and over away from the fire.
The last memory made Jace freeze. Was the fire our fault? Did we put the fire out completely? Jace racked his brain with memories of the weekend: He saw his dad starting the fire, and he saw his dad cooking. But he couldn’t remember his dad putting the fire out.
His imagination started to take hold. He imagined the strong wind sweeping over the fire pit, toppling the coals and revealing a bright red ember underneath.
He imagined the wind howling through the treetops, causing their leaves to fall to the ground like snow. He imagined one of the leaves swirling dangerously close to the glowing ember and—in the blink of an eye—igniting into a spark that turned into a full-fledged flame on some nearby brush.
In his mind, the fire crackled and crawled up a nearby tree consuming everything in its path. Soon the flames completely covered the tree until it was just a black shadow outlined by a red-orange glow. Shivering, Jace opened his eyes.
The vision made his head spin and his heart beat faster. He started to feel short of breath. Oh no. I think I’m having a panic attack. Jace closed his eyes and did the breathing exercise his friend KT uses to calm herself during her panic attacks. Breathe through it—In.. 1, 2, 3, and out…1, 2, 3.
After a few deep breaths, Jace started to relax, but his heart still felt heavy. He couldn’t shake the nagging guilt. If only I had seen my dad put it out!
Just then, Jace thought of a solution: The backpack time machine. The backpack had a microprocessor that allowed Jace and his friends to travel through time. I’ll just go back in time to last night and put out the fire!
With new-found energy, Jace ripped open his closet door and rummaged through the back where he hid the backpack. He pulled it from its hiding spot and typed in the correct coordinates: ESCAPE, TAB, CAPS LOCK. He sat cross-legged in the middle of his bedroom floor before, reciting the ritual he said with his friends before every trip: “Mission accepted. Let’s do this!” He counted, “1.. 2.. 3…” and then pressed ENTER, propelling him through time.
Jace felt the familiar tug of hyper-speed as he was lifted in time to the day before. The campsite looked just as they had left it; the forest was teeming with life and the trees were standing tall. It filled Jace with so much joy that he hugged the nearest one, breathing in the fresh pine scent.
Jace snuck behind the tree just as his dad returned to grab the last load from the campsite. The bed of their family truck was piled high with camping gear, and Jace could see the outline of him and his brother sleeping soundly in the back seat. Jace touched his palm to his forehead, “That’s why I don’t remember! I must have been sleeping!”
Jace focused his attention on the still-smoldering fire pit. He watched his dad pour water in the middle of the pit until the smoldering stopped. Jace noted the section of coals that remained dry, the coals closest to the brush.
Jace waited patiently behind the tree while his dad picked up the lingering trash around the campsite. The strong winds were making it difficult for him to keep the red plastic cups in the bag. “Urgh!” He yelled out in frustration. “I need a rock to hold down the trash bag.”
His dad turned to the forest, and Jace saw his opportunity. He snuck out from behind the tree and walked over to the fire pit.
He placed a hand over the dry coals, careful not to touch them. Even with the space between his hand and the coals, he could feel the heat emanating from the right side. Jace grabbed a jug of water from the truck bed and dumped water generously over all the coals. Moving the coals around with his dad’s shovel, he nodded, positive that all the coals were wet.
Jace’s hand hovered over the coals again and this time he felt nothing. Perfect. He hurried back behind the tree just as his dad was coming back with a large rock.
Jace turned away from his dad and leaned his back against the tree. The wind was picking up now, causing the trees to sway as if they were dancing. He pulled the backpack out and keyed in the coordinates for home. He pressed ESCAPE, TAB, CAPS LOCK and whispered, “mission accomplished,” before pressing RETURN.
Jace felt dizzy from the hyper-speed and couldn’t wait to lie down. He crawled under the covers, too tired to even change into his pajamas.
He reached his arm to the opposite side of the bed, looking for his pillow when his elbow met something solid. Jace lifted up the covers to see his little brother. He must have had a nightmare. “James,” he whispered, shaking him. “James, what are you doing in my bed?”
James shifted, hugging his pillow tighter. “I had a dream that there was a fire,” he muttered into the pillow. He opened one eye to look at Jace and grimaced. “Probably because you stink like a campfire.”
Jace stifled a chuckle and covered him with the blanket. “Good night, little brother,” he whispered.
ALL sections
- Main Menu
- Overview
- Essential Knowledge: Ecosystem Oraganization
- Essential Knowledge: Energy Flow in Ecosystems
- Essential Knowledge: Biodiversity
- Essential Knowledge: Biomes
- Essential Knowledge: Ecological Succession
- Backpack Adventures
- Make a Note of That
- Meet a Scientist
- Practice
- Real Science Review
- Scientist videos
