When last we heard from our runaway coffee cup on Day 258 [http://klowns-in-my-koffee.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-258-on-ice.html], he was on a glacier and still going north ... ever north. What could be the strange force that drew him from our home and sent him wandering in the world?And how could he hitchhike without thumbs?
As you recall from Day 258, he had engaged the services of a guide in British Columbia. Through a combination of hiking, skiing, and scaling sheer ice walls that made the Iditarod look like Howard Johnson's on a Tuesday night, the pair progressed farther and farther north. The guide company was a little fuzzy on details when I got them on the phone and would only say that their guide requested an emergency helicopter pick-up between Igloolik and Baffin Island. There was a lot of static on the line but I thought I heard someone yelling in the background: "You tell that damn cup I'm no bloody Tenzsing Norgay!" Confusing since we seemed to be on the wrong continent for that. No word on the location of the cup.
What could be drawing him north like a magnet?North? Magnet?
Oh, no. A quick review of an Arctic map confirmed my suspicions.
Yep, he was headed for the Big Guy himself and timed to arrive Zero Hour.
But for what purpose?
Jealousy? Payback for that unfortunate elf situation at the bar? An offer of assistance?
I guess we'll never know.
On Christmas morning, he was by the fireplace with a smug look on his face and a basket of pine boughs for a cap.
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