Monarchs Remember a Route They've Never Flown
Every fall, monarch butterflies from across eastern North America head south to a few mountain forests in central Mexico, a journey of up to 3,000 miles. The most astonishing part isn't the distance. It's that not one butterfly making the trip has ever flown the route before.
A relay across generations. Each spring, monarchs leave Mexico and begin moving north. Along the way, they lay eggs and die, and their offspring carry the journey farther. A summer monarch lives only about two to six weeks, so it takes three or four generations to reach Canada and the northern United States. By late summer, the butterflies there are the great-great-grandchildren of those that left Mexico.
A different kind of butterfly. Then something remarkable happens. As days shorten and temperatures cool, a new generation emerges with a completely different plan. Instead of mating and laying eggs right away, these monarchs put reproduction on hold, store fat, and live up to eight or nine months, many times longer than their parents. Scientists call it the "super generation."
No one to follow. These butterflies have no older guides and no parents to follow. Yet they fly thousands of miles to the same small cluster of mountain forests their ancestors left months earlier, as if they carry an inherited mental map. To find their way, they rely on built-in tools, including a sun compass and even a sense of Earth's magnetic field.
A generation that switches to a whole new life plan on cue, and knows where to go without ever being taught, is hard to explain as an accident. The journey is hardwired into every monarch, and code like that doesn't write itself.
