{"product_id":"tip-of-the-iceberg-isbn-9781101985120","title":"Tip of the Iceberg","description":"\u003cb\u003e**The National Bestseller**\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom the acclaimed, bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eTurn Right at Machu Picchu\u003c\/i\u003e, a fascinating, wild, and wonder-filled journey into Alaska, America's last frontier\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn 1899, railroad magnate Edward H. Harriman organized a most unusual summer voyage to the wilds of Alaska: He converted a steamship into a luxury \"floating university,\" populated by some of America's best and brightest scientists and writers, including the anti-capitalist eco-prophet John Muir. Those aboard encountered a land of immeasurable beauty and impending environmental calamity. More than a hundred years later, Alaska is still America's most sublime wilderness, both the lure that draws one million tourists annually on Inside Passage cruises and as a natural resources larder waiting to be raided. As ever, it remains a magnet for weirdos and dreamers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eArmed with Dramamine and an industrial-strength mosquito net, Mark Adams sets out to retrace the 1899 expedition. Traveling town to town by water, Adams ventures three thousand miles north through Wrangell, Juneau, and Glacier Bay, then continues west into the colder and stranger regions of the Aleutians and the Arctic Circle. Along the way, he encounters dozens of unusual characters (and a couple of very hungry bears) and investigates how lessons learned in 1899 might relate to Alaska's current struggles in adapting to the pressures of a changing climate and world.“Great nonfiction . . . takes a topic you thought you knew well and makes it new again. . . . [Adams’s] storytelling is guaranteed to make you want to get off your beach towel and book passage somewhere in the great wild north.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eOutside\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A literary companion to Google Earth.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe New York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Adams gives readers an eye-opening look at the past and present history of a fascinating region.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly \u003c\/i\u003e(starred review)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Adams writes with his signature sense of humor, but shows a real sense of respect for the sometimes odd people who populate the Last Frontier.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“[Adams’s] writing illuminates this massive and magical land, and will have you booking your next trip ASAP.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eFodor's Travel\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"\u003ci\u003eTip of the Iceberg\u003c\/i\u003e, with its fresh descriptive writing, strong character development, and presentation of contemporary Alaska within a historical framework, is a valuable contribution to our state's literature. Long-time Alaskans as well as newcomers and visitors will find much to appreciate here.”\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003eAnchorage Daily News\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Armchair travelers, Alaskan history buffs, and anyone who just wants a solid, involving adventure read will relish the 'you are there' atmosphere created through Mark Adams's journeys.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eMidwest Review of Books\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A captivating true story . . . Featuring lush descriptive writing and an unusual cast of characters you won't soon forget.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBustle\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A fascinating journey through Alaska.” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eNew York Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“[An] informative and entertaining history-cum-travelogue.” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eShelf Awareness\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An eye-opener.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003ePeople\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"A pleasing mix of travelogue and history, and the many colorful characters—human and otherwise—keep the pages turning.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Charleston City Paper\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Tourists will certainly enjoy reading about both the past and the present, and the breezy, self-deprecating tone makes for an obvious vacation diversion.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An entertaining and informative trip around Alaska’s coastline.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Whether you’ve already fallen in love with Alaska, or simply intend to in the future, \u003ci\u003eTip of the Iceberg\u003c\/i\u003e was written for you. Mark Adams is an adventurous traveler’s ideal guide to the breathtaking natural history—and colorful human history—of one of America’s most fascinating corners.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Susan Casey, author of \u003ci\u003eVoices in the Ocean: A Journey into the Wild and Haunting World of Dolphins\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “With \u003ci\u003eTip of the Iceberg\u003c\/i\u003e, Mark Adams gave me, in spades, what I always hope to find in a book: the chance to effortlessly learn something extraordinary. I was constantly laughing, shaking my head in astonishment, and trying to slow down so I wouldn’t finish it too fast. Some of my favorite people show up in this book, from John Muir to John Burroughs, but Adams himself may be the most unforgettable character.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Candice Millard, author of \u003ci\u003eHero of the Empire\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e “\u003ci\u003eTip of the Iceberg\u003c\/i\u003e radiates a warmth we don't usually associate with up north. Adams finds nuggets of gold everywhere, and spins a story as expansive as Alaska itself.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Sam Kean, author of \u003ci\u003eCaesar’s Last Breath\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMore Praise for Mark Adams\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The lively, skeptical but open-minded travel writer Mark Adams . . . takes readers along to four plausible sites, without quackery and with a contagious spirit of curiosity, interviewing scores of experts and fanatics, and painting pictures that will make even the most levelheaded traveler yearn to repeat his fantastic itinerary.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—The New York Times Book Review \u003c\/i\u003eon \u003ci\u003eMeet Me in Atlantis\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Few mythical places exert a more powerful pull on the imagination than Atlantis, and here the fabled lost city has found its perfect chronicler. Adventurous, inquisitive, and mirthful, Mark Adams gamely sifts through the eons of rumor, science, and lore to find a place that, in the end, seems startlingly real indeed—like a vivid dream surfacing from the weird and murky depths of human consciousness.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Hampton Sides on \u003ci\u003eMeet Me in Atlantis\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Always entertaining,\u003ci\u003e Meet Me in Atlantis\u003c\/i\u003e also introduces a significant amount of Platonic philosophy and devotes generous space to legitimate archaeology like that in Akrotiri. Perhaps the most enjoyable aspect is Adams’s knack for clever descriptions of places and people.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Daily Beast \u003c\/i\u003eon \u003ci\u003eMeet Me in Atlantis\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A serious (and seriously funny) travelogue, a smart and tightly written history, and an investigative report into perhaps the greatest archaeological discovery in the last century.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eNational Geographic \u003c\/i\u003eon \u003ci\u003eTurn Right at Machu Picchu\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Adams deftly weaves together Inca history, Bingham's story, and his own less heroic escapade. . . . Those favoring a quirkier retelling [of Bingham's exploits] will relish Mr. Adams's wry, revealing romp through the Andes.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Wall Street Journal\u003c\/i\u003e on\u003ci\u003e Turn Right at Machu Picchu\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“With a healthy sense of humor . . . Adams unearths a fascinating story, transporting his readers back to 1911, when Yale professor Hiram Bingham III hiked the Andes and stumbled upon one of South America's most miraculous and cloistered meccas.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—NPR.org on\u003ci\u003e Turn Right at Machu Picchu\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eMark Adams\u003c\/b\u003e is the author of the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestsellers \u003ci\u003eMeet Me in Atlantis \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eTurn Right at Machu Picchu\u003c\/i\u003e. A writer for many national magazines, including \u003ci\u003eGQ\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eMen's Journal\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eNew York\u003c\/i\u003e, he lives near New York City with his wife and children.Chapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A Visit to Mr. Merriam\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Washington, DC\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e On March 25, 1899, a gentleman from New York City arrived      unannounced at the Washington, DC, office of natural historian C.      Hart Merriam. At age forty-three, Merriam had already been      practicing science seriously for three decades, dating back to      some unauthorized taxidermy performed on his sister's dead cat. In      1872, on summer break from high school, he had served as      naturalist on an expedition to America's newly christened      Yellowstone National Park and published his findings in a      fifty-page government report. He had since earned and abandoned an      MD degree, cofounded the National Geographic Society, and      identified dozens of bird and mammal species.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Merriam did not, however, recognize the name of the mysterious      stranger who'd interrupted his typically hectic workday. Edward H.      Harriman, as any close observer of Wall Street would have known,      was on the verge of becoming one of the most famous-and, in the      trust-busting years to come, infamous-entrepreneurs of the late      Gilded Age. In the years prior to setting foot in Merriam's office      at the U.S. Division of Biological Survey, at 14th and      Independence, Harriman had taken control of the underperforming      Union Pacific Railroad. The previous summer, the new chief      executive had personally inspected more than six thousand miles of      track, examining \"every poor tie, blistered rail, and loose bolt,\"      according to one superintendent. The complete modernization      Harriman ordered for the Union Pacific had left his railroad in      rapidly improving shape and its chief executive physically      exhausted. For the summer of 1899, Harriman's physician-who joined      him in Merriam's office-was ordering him to take a sabbatical.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Harriman, whose quicksilver mind terrified his underlings and      allowed him to see opportunities invisible to others, had      conceived something much more ambitious than a couple of months of      tennis and lemonade at his country estate. His plan was to outfit      a large steamship as his private yacht and survey the coast of      Alaska. In the previous fifteen years, it had become possible to      book package tours up the Inside Passage, as the waterways of the      British Columbia coast and Alaska panhandle had come to be known.      A steady flow of well-to-do excursioners had been lured by      newspaper and magazine stories raving about Alaska's glaciers. One      particularly adventurous writer had done more than all others      combined to promote the territory's frozen wonders: John Muir.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Harriman was bringing along his wife and children, as well as a      few guests and an ample crew, but his ship had the capacity to      carry many more. He sought Merriam's help in rounding up a team of      America's top experts in the natural sciences to accompany them.      \"He thought that there should be two men of recognized ability in      each department,\" Merriam later recalled. \"Two zoologists, two      botanists, two geologists and so on.\" Harriman expected to depart      from Seattle in just two months.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Harriman's rough itinerary combined familiar elements of the newly      fashionable northern Grand Tour with exploration into points      unknown. His steamship would sail up the Inside Passage and visit      its best-known spots: lawless Wrangell; Skagway, epicenter of the      Klondike Gold Rush; the old Russian capital, Sitka; and Glacier      Bay, perhaps the biggest draw of all, thanks to the ecstatic      nature rhapsodies that Muir published in America's most popular      magazines. But one of the secrets to Harriman's success was      ignoring limits set by others. His Alaska course would extend      thousands of miles further, continuing west toward the Bering Sea,      scouting Prince William Sound, Kodiak Island, the Aleutians, and      beyond, obscure places where large swaths of territory were      labeled unknown on maps and scientific discoveries were waiting      for anyone who stepped on shore. Thanks to railroad men like      Harriman, the wild American West had been all but subdued in less      than a hundred years. In 1805, Lewis and Clark had witnessed herds      of buffalo so large their movements shook the ground. By 1899,      that same species faced extinction. The true American frontier now      lay in the wilderness to the north. As the historian Maury Klein      puts it, \"Harriman's idea of rest was to organize, underwrite, and      direct what became the last major scientific expedition of the      nineteenth century.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Seated in his office, Merriam was polite but dubious about      Harriman's offer. Whoever had steered Harriman to Merriam had      chosen wisely, though. The scientist, son of a congressman, was      exceedingly well connected. He made quick inquiries, which      confirmed that the railroad man was not only serious but probably      incapable of joking. Cartoonists delighted in depicting Merriam,      who wore round spectacles and combed his hair into a tall pouf, as      an administrative owl. He was wise enough to see that he might      have stumbled across the most elusive of creatures: a scientific      expedition with no fixed budget. When Harriman visited Merriam's      home that night and insisted that in addition to covering all      costs he would allow the team Merriam selected free rein to      conduct their own research, Merriam was convinced that Harriman's      northbound Noah's Ark was no rich man's boondoggle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"To be a member of it would be the event of a lifetime,\" he      realized.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Chapter Two\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e All Points North\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e New York City\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Next to the cluttered desk in my office, I keep a small collection      of manila folders labeled with the names of destinations I would      like to write about one day. Inside each folder are scraps of      paper-bar napkins covered in semi-legible hieroglyphics and      yellowed newspaper clippings pertaining to a particular place. In      the folder marked alaska, there's a piece of hotel stationery on      which I scribbled something an Alaskan friend once told me. Three      basic types of people live in Alaska, he said. There are the      Native Alaskans, who've been there since time immemorial. There      are people who have come north running toward something, usually a      chance to do something unpleasant to make a lot of money quickly,      such as gutting fish twelve hours a day or operating a welding      torch in minus-forty-degree temperatures. And there are those who      are running away from something, like a bad marriage or      fluoridated water.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Travel writing is an odd and pleasant way to make a living, one      that has enabled me to fast-forward to the sort of life people      profiled in Forbes often anticipate once they've made a      Harriman-worthy fortune. I wander the world meeting interesting      people; I write books; and when not on the road, I spend so much      time around the house that my children sometimes feel obligated to      tell friends that I really do have a job. Over the years, I have      learned that the most interesting questions to answer about a      place are rarely the most obvious ones: where to go, when to do      so, what to eat, who to go with, or even how to get there. The      essential question about travel is: Why? Perhaps you've dreamed of      Kenya ever since seeing Out of Africa as a child, or want to meet      your distant relatives in Ireland, or long to see a lemur in the      wild. A journey away from something-work, stress, societal norms      that frown on drinking before 10:00 a.m.-is a vacation. A journey      toward something, a trip with an objective, is an expedition.      There are a handful of spectacular places I've put off visiting      (and writing about) for years because I never found a good enough      reason to go. Until recently, Alaska was one of them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Outside of my professional travel obligations, I like a plain old      relaxing vacation as much as anyone, and was in the midst of one      not long ago when I found myself in the slightly seedy Seattle      neighborhood of Pioneer Square, staring up at a totem pole. The      presence of a totem pole at a busy intersection in Seattle wasn't      especially noteworthy-they're only marginally less common than      stoplights-though I was surprised to encounter standing beneath      this one a friendly young U.S. national park ranger in his Smokey      Bear hat. The pole, he enthusiastically informed me, was actually      a duplicate. The original had been obtained in 1899 by a group of      prominent local business leaders who'd sailed north to Alaska's      Inside Passage to steal one from a Native village. The Pioneer      Square pole thieves seem to have stolen their idea, too, the      ranger went on. They'd been inspired by the ballyhooed return to      Seattle of the Harriman Expedition.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As it happens, one of the qualifications of my unusual job is      knowing a thing or two about the history of exploration. An entire      bookcase in my office is crammed with accounts of journeys to the      far corners of the earth. The existence of the Harriman Expedition      was news to me, though, a gap in my knowledge that grew into      embarrassment once I got a look at the league of extraordinary      gentlemen Hart Merriam assembled in 1899. His selections had      participated in almost every important American expedition since      the Civil War. The obvious first choice was William Healey Dall,      the dean of Alaskan explorers, who'd begun visiting the northern      wilderness when it was still Russian and had written Alaska and      Its Resources, perhaps the most influential book ever published on      the territory. Grove Karl Gilbert, veteran of multiple Rocky      Mountain campaigns, was thought by many to be the greatest      American geologist who ever lived. Henry Gannett's brilliant      innovations in geography led him to be known as \"the Father of      American Map Making.\" George Bird Grinnell, editor of the      influential Forest and Stream magazine, had founded the Audubon      Society and was arguably the most respected outdoorsman in the      country. Some expeditioners were already good friends. Others knew      one another only by reputation. Everyone knew Merriam.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Not all prospective members were academic specialists. Aside from      taking the rest his doctor had prescribed, Harriman seemed to have      two primary goals for his summer in Alaska. He wished to return      from his adventures with a trophy bear, so two taxidermists and a      scout were hired to accompany the group. Harriman also, in the      Carnegie-esque spirit of the age, hoped to render a philanthropic      service by enabling scientists in various fields to survey the      wonders of Alaska, enlarge their collections of specimens, and      share their findings with an American public that had developed a      passion for the natural history museums that were proliferating      around the country. Merriam expanded the team to include three      artists and a young photographer, Edward S. Curtis, who had guided      Merriam and Grinnell to safety after they'd gotten lost while      hiking on Mount Rainier in 1898. Rounding out the roster was a      pair of America's best-known authors in a genre-nature      writing-that was growing in popularity as America's wilderness      vanished. One was John Burroughs, famous for his bestselling      essays on birds and flowers, signed on to write the expedition's      official history.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The second author was both an obvious invitee and a reluctant one.      John Muir was perhaps America's leading writer on the relatively      new subject of wilderness protection, a movement that within a few      years would come to be known as conservation. He had visited      Alaska six times and was generally acknowledged as the top expert      on its glaciers. His 1879 canoe trip through the Inside Passage is      one of the most famous voyages in American exploration. (Muir's      first encounter with Glacier Bay is the heart of his classic      Travels in Alaska, a copy of which I did have in my office      bookcase.) He had also founded the Sierra Club, to defend      California's dwindling wild places against men like Harriman,      practitioners of what Muir called \"gobble gobble economics.\"      Unfamiliar with Harriman, and perplexed by his unusual offer, Muir      dragged his feet until his friend Merriam convinced him that the      ship would be making stops in Alaskan locations that even Muir had      yet to explore.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e With his legacy in mind, Harriman paid Hart Merriam to edit what      became twelve beautifully printed volumes of writings and      photographs by the expedition members. Taken as a whole, the      Harriman Alaska Series serves as a sepia snapshot of Alaska's      natural riches in 1899: bears and whales and fjords and snowcapped      peaks. Most striking of all, due largely to Muir's influence, are      the hundreds of glaciers, many newly discovered and each as      distinct in words and pictures as a snowflake under a microscope.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Since 1867, when the United States purchased the half million      square miles of what had been called \"Russian America,\" the      territory has had a split personality. Alaska is the Last      Frontier, land of sublime wild beauty. It is also, in the words of      author and eco-activist Edward Abbey, \"the last pork chop,\" a      natural larder waiting to be raided. Alaska has been shaped by      three gold rushes, each of which left behind a fundamentally      different place. The first was the soft gold rush of fur, starting      in the mid-eighteenth century, which opened the Great Land to the      ships of Europe's most powerful nations. The second was the hard      gold rush of the 1890s, which drew thousands of new non-Native      residents north for the first time. The scientists assembled by      Hart Merriam witnessed the unintended consequences of unregulated      exploitation in Alaska-species driven to extinction, pristine      lands and waters contaminated, Native cultures destroyed-and      recorded these effects in the Harriman Alaska Series as well.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Alaska's third and biggest boom was the liquid gold rush that      began with the construction of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline in the      1970s. Around the time I learned of the Harriman Expedition's      existence, news stories began to report that, after nearly forty      fat years, Alaska's third rush was reaching a crisis point just as      its others had. The state's oil reserves were dwindling, and the      price per barrel had collapsed, crippling the regional economy.      Alaska faced a difficult choice: double down and open protected      wilderness areas for drilling, which climate scientists argued was      the opposite of what should be done in light of alarming warming      trends; or move on to the Next Big Thing, whatever that might be,      as the state always had.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It seemed I finally had my reason to visit Alaska-my answer to the      question \"Why?\" I could follow in the Harriman Expedition's wake      and compare what Hart Merriam's all-star team of experts had      recorded with what was happening now. How to do so was another      matter. Alaska is essentially a small continent: big enough to      hold Texas, California, and Montana (the second-, third-, and      fourth-largest states) and still have room left over for New      England, Hawaii, and a couple of metropolises. It contains seven      mountain ranges and ten peaks taller than any in the Lower 48. Its      waterfront accounts for half of all coast in the United States.      Louisiana has four times as many miles of paved roads. Except for      a few of the larger cities and towns, most places in Alaska-and      almost every place visited by the Harriman Expedition-can be      reached only by boat or airplane. You can't even drive to Juneau,      the state capital.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Because of these obstacles, Alaska has always been as much a      seafaring culture as Polynesia. The great majority of its      recreational visitors today make the journey the same way they      would have in 1899: on ships. Each summer a million cruise ship      passengers make the same scenery hajj as the Harriman Expedition.      The most recent data I could find showed the Inside Passage had      catapulted over Las Vegas and Orlando to become America's      number-one tourist destination.","brand":"Dutton","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301921345765,"sku":"NP9781101985120","price":18.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781101985120.jpg?v=1767742679","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/tip-of-the-iceberg-isbn-9781101985120","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}