Voyage of the Zamboninaut
Say hello to Ben “Amerigo” Barnes, Zamboninaut,
shown here negotiating a stretch of difficult terrain in central Mongolia on his quest to become the first person to circumnavigate the globe on a Zamboni.
This is year three of Ben’s epic journey and, if all goes according to plan, he should be chugging triumphantly down the Champs-Élysées in 2043, just before noon. Hold the confetti, it clogs the nozzles.
I’m sure he’ll make it,
barring anything unforeseen.
Zamboninaut update
Here’s a quick update on Ben Barnes, Zamboninaut.
A dust-up with a meteor on the Mongolian steppes propelled Ben some six hundred kilometers to Ubsunur Hollow, now a little hollower than before. It is hard to calculate whether this puts him ahead of schedule or behind. There is, of course, the 351 days he gained by covering the distance airborne, at speeds that raised eyebrows in radar stations from Beijing to Moscow. Harder to gauge are the ramifications of the sudden intrusion into a 2700-year-old Scythian burial mound.
Zamboninaut update
Somewhat battered after a slight misunderstanding with occult forces in Ubsunur Hollow (who knew you could dribble a Zamboni like a basketball?), Ben finds himself limping across neighboring Kazakhstan somewhere in the vicinity of Baikonur Cosmodrome.
Poor Baikonur Cosmodrome. Once basking in the international spotlight for one cutting-edge aerospace coup after another, they are now weedy and neglected, forgotten by a media that yawns at yesterday’s historic firsts and asks “What have you done for us lately?” But what can they do? First satellite launched into space, first man launched into space, first woman launched into space — how do you top that? What other FIRSTS are left to launch? If only they could think of something…
Zamboninaut update
As Baikonur Cosmodrome — back in the spotlight again — wrangles with top Hollywood executives over royalties for the upcoming blockbuster movie “Dos Vidonya, Zamboninski!”, Ben Barnes finds that his orbit is rapidly degrading. As the earth turns majestically below him, he ponders his fate. Will he survive the fiery re-entry into the atmosphere? If he does, where on earth will he land? In the tropical luxuriance of the Amazon rainforests? The alpine tundra of the Western Ghats? The grasslands and mangrove swamps of Australia? It’s anybody’s guess…
Zamboninaut update: Holy cow!
What are the odds?
Zamboninaut update
After a string of unfortunate events culminating in near disaster, Ben Barnes charts a course for Bhutan and heads up the southeastern slope of Chomolhari for some badly needed rest and relaxation. Here on the windswept spur, a zamboni can ease off the throttle, replenish its tanks, and sort through its feelings. It can put the past behind it and lay down a fresh new sheet of ice to resurface its troubled soul. You see before you a zamboni that is at peace with itself and with the world.
Unless you are one of a nearby party of dehydrated and mildly delirious mountain climbers who haven’t had a hot meal in six days. In that case, you see before you a… a…
Oh, this can’t be good…
Zamboninaut update
Set-upon in his solitary meditations by some altitude sickness-impaired mountain climbers clamoring for burritos, Ben tries to disabuse them of the notion that the zamboni is a taco truck, but his new customers will not be turned away. In desperation Ben roots through the glove compartment and under the seats and begins handing out anything he can find—some mints, a half bag of potato chips, a flashlight, a few maps, a used air freshener. Everything he produces is greeted with joy. The shouting and revelry attract more and more climbers. Even a few locals drop by to take in the spectacle (though they wisely forego the food). As he cannibalizes the upholstery to keep up with orders, Ben can’t help but feel a tiny twinge of pride mixed in with his confusion. After all, the zamboni is now a going concern—a thriving Himalayan hot spot.
But there’s only a certain number of times you can bellow “Dos cervezas!” on the slopes of a sacred mountain before it loses its patience and serves up some suds.
Zamboninaut update: An inconvenient truth
One of the things that never seems to be discussed when talk turns to global warming is: What are its effects on Zambonis that are trapped in the Himalayan snow pack? Think about it. In all the column inches of news copy, all the hours of talk radio, all the summits and conferences and scholarly pontificating devoted to global warming, have you ever once heard anybody address that fundamental question? No. And I’ll tell you why. Because the liberal media, which is led around by the nose by the likes of that tap-dancing impresario Al Gore, DOESN’T WANT YOU TO KNOW. That’s right. Because it just so happens that global warming is very, very good for Zambonis that are trapped in the Himalayan snow pack. Yes, this gentle and beneficent phenomenon that has been so vilified by shrill, so-called environmentalists who are secretly funneling your carbon offset dollars into offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands, brought Spring to Chomolhari a full two months early—and with it wildflowers, and bird song, and a catastrophic flood of snow melt bearing with it one Zamboni.
Free at last, free at last,
Thank God Almighty Global Warming,
Free! Free at last
Down it hurtled, into the swollen Brahmaputra and on to the Bay of Bengal.
Fortunately, Zambonis can float—right Ben?
Ben?
To be continued…