In one of the earth's most amazing migrations, more than 100,000 caribou trek thousands of miles each year over high mountain ranges, through snowy passes, and across icy rivers. But they have to battle more than just the brutal elements. Hungry wolves, huge grizzly bears, human hunters, and hordes of bloodthirsty insects besiege the herd as it travels to its one safe haven—Alaska's Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. There, those that survive the trip have a few peaceful weeks to give birth and prepare their calves for the harsh year ahead. Karsten Heuer and his wife, Leanne Allison, are the only humans ever to become part of a caribou herd and join it on its arduous journey. They shared the same mind-numbing cold, the endless miles of physical hardship, and all the dangers along the route to chronicle the epic battle for survival these animals face. To keep up, they had to move, act, and even think like caribou. Karsten and Leanne's incredible adventure gives us a window into a world that we have never seen before.

Since time immemorial, the Porcupine caribou herd has ranged the Arctic in a 2,800-mile annual trek between its winter feeding grounds inland and its summer calving grounds on the coastal plain of the Beaufort Sea. In 2003, the caribou were joined on their spring journey, possibly for the first time ever, by two humans: wildlife biologist and writer Karsten Heuer and his wife, filmmaker Leanne Allison. Where the herd once roamed through unpopulated wilderness, it now treks from one country to another. This may well be its downfall, for under its calving grounds lies enough oil to keep the United States going for six months. Nowadays in Washington, that’s considered a lot of oil, enough to justify imperilling this venerable herd. Determined to let the world know what will be lost if drilling takes place, Heuer and Allison accompanied the 123,000-strong Porcupine caribou for five months in an uncharted course over mountain ranges, through deep snow, and across semi-frozen rivers. En route, the heavily pregnant caribou and heavily laden humans alike were stalked by wolves and grizzlies newly awake from hibernation — and ravenous. An adventure story like no other, Being Caribou reveals the drama and beauty of the migration and brings home the enormity of the loss that will surely be felt if drilling goes ahead.

"If the caribou die, then we die." These few words speak eloquently to the significanceof caribou for northern peoples. They were spoken not by a wise old chief, but by a 13-year-old Dene youth in 2007 during a hearing regarding uranium exploration on the caribou wintering grounds. Right now there is urgent, widespread concern about the future of the most centralof species: caribou. Caribou and the North brings both the facts and the feelingsof the current situation to a North American readership. The writers look at why we need to conserve the caribou, the threats that have faced caribou in the past, present, and future, and the actions that we can take. Also included is an appendixwith up-to-date information on the range, movements, habitats, numbers, population trends, and key threats to caribou in North America.

Introduces the caribou, describing their physical characteristics, eating habits, and migratory behavior.

Follows Karsten Heuer as he tracks the Porcupine caribou herd through Northern Canada.

In Moving Environments: Affect, Emotion, Ecology, and Film, international scholars investigate how films portray human emotional relationships with the more-than-human world and how such films act upon their viewers’ emotions. Emotion and affect are the basic mechanisms that connect us to our environment, shape our knowledge, and motivate our actions. Contributors explore how film represents and shapes human emotion in relation to different environments and what role time, place, and genre play in these affective processes. Individual essays resituate well-researched environmental films such as An Inconvenient Truth and March of the Penguins by paying close attention to their emotionalizing strategies, and bring to our attention the affective qualities of films that have so far received little attention from ecocritics, such as Stan Brakhage’s Dog Star Man. The collection opens a new discursive space at the disciplinary intersection of film studies, affect studies, and a growing body of ecocritical scholarship. It will be of interest not only to scholars and students working in the field of ecocriticism and the environmental humanities, but for everyone with an interest in our emotional responses to film.