Boomawhoppers

1

          I’ve just returned to this area after an extended around-the-world tour lasting 3 years. Frantic and hectic are two words that best describe my grueling  journey, a nightmarish  event that was, in the truest sense of the word, a fiasco from start to finish.

         Nothing fell into place, everything bad that could possibly happen…did. I have therefore made a resolution; never again will I formulate a plan. Cause pilgrim, mine have an uncanny tendency to go awry.

           Back in 1979 I’d become mired in that proverbial rut. Sank in a quagmire so deep I hired a 8 horse-hitch of Clydesdales to pull me free. Them big equines tugged, strained, snorted, neighed softly and whinnied loudly. All their valiant efforts went for naught. I wuz chin deep in muck.

         In desperation I called upon Hyatt Wreckers, a local conglomerate that operates a vast fleet of tow trucks. Even their biggest rig, a truly monstrous piece of machinery, fared no better than them big hosses who are used to advertise a popular brew. I was rapidly on my way to suffocating because of lungs being filled with mud.

         I yelled at an amused onlooker, a gloating scoundrel who stood on firm, solid ground. I pleaded with the despicable rascal: “Call the fire department! Tell ‘em to dispatch all their pumper trucks out here pronto, filled to capacity with water!”

         Now folks, what follows is an educational lesson that each and every person should pay rapt attention to. Each of us, sooner or later, gets trapped in swampy quicksand. No person in history has ever escaped experiencing that terrifying ordeal at least once in  their lifetime ( to date, in 77 years, I’ve been trapped in mucky morasses 633 times ). Water is the answer…water can set you free!

         The local fire department responded promptly. Thousands of gallons of water soaked me and the mud round about. The diluting effect was instant. The quicksand rapidly thinned to a consistency that allowed the desired miracle to occur. The results of that blending were spontaneous and extremely volatile. Up from the soggy depths of that swamp I popped. Like a cork from a champagne bottle I was propelled upward into the stratosphere, reaching a dizzying height equal to 9 telephone poles positioned atop each other.

         Gravitational laws insist that all things going up must come down. I landed upright about 400 yards away in a blackberry thicket. Luckily I suffered only minor bruises and abrasions. Nothing really worth mentioning, though later I did apply one band-aid and gulped down two aspirin tablets. Within 24 hours the whole episode was forgotten.

         You know how it goes. Oft times a change of scenery is sorely needed. Doctors will frequently prescribe that very medicine: “Take a vacation, go to Arizona.”

         Well neighbor, I’d do the medical advisor one better. A decision came hastily, a solemn pledge sworn: “I’m goin’ round the world!” That vow was honored.

         Ladies and gentlemen, this ball of mud on which you exist offers a myriad of sights, sounds and sensations for the wearied traveler walking it’s equator. In the upcoming chapters I’d like to go into some detail about my just completed journey, and those aforementioned sights and sounds…

2

         Travel can pose great danger for the unwary. Peril lurks behind every rock, terror waits around each bend of the river. Remember this when next you sally forth into the world…trust no person, nor any place.

         Only with great reluctance do I begin this true story. I value highly my reputation for of long-standing for truthfulness but, horror of horrors, these following chapters might place that reputation in jeopardy. I can only offer my solemn vow for the veracity of this which you are about to peruse, sworn on a stack of Bibles piled very high.

         Each and every journey must have a starting point and terminus. These two points can be one and the same when around-the-world trips are considered. Mine began, and ended, right here by the banks of Wolf Creek.

         In mid-April I struck out across country in a westerly direction, having only $3.30 in my threadbare pockets. Being short of funds will seldom deter itchy feet.

         The first few miles passed uneventfully. And then it started…misery, woe, hardship.

         I was bullied by bisons across a vast North American continent, pelted with pelican droppings across a ponderous Pacific, terrorized by tigers in Thailand ( my presence seems to bring out the worst in tigers. I truly believe there’s a conspiracy afoot among this particular breed of feline to shred my frail body from limb to limb. Gotta’ be careful, else one of them big cats is gonna’ “git” me yet. ).

         I found myself crying, cowered and cringing when confronted by colossal coiled cobras in Calcutta. And too, by an army of atrocious apes in Africa.

         I found myself beaten by beastial Bedouins in Bahrain, rolled by radical ruffians in Romania, cheated by conniving conmen in Chad, robbed by robed renegades in Rwanda ( their loot added up to a grand total of 63 cents ).

         Parasitic piranhas pursued me down Paraguayan rivers; I was             alarmed by aggressive anacondas along the Amazon. Smelly Abominable Snowmen in Sikkim scared me silly…a wayward whale off the coast of Wales walloped me. I’m tellin’  ya,’ traveling around the world at it’s equator is highly dangerous!

         Harassing highwaymen hounded me in the Himalayas. I was bushwhacked by bandits in Botswana ( them dudes got nothin.’ Their colleagues in other lands had already stole me blind ).

         Varmints of the wild and badmen of planet earth were not my sole sources of trouble. Womenfolk of the human species were a constant irritant.

         I was propositioned by garishly painted prostitutes in Portugal…fleeced by flamboyant flossies in France, found myself seduced by sultry sirens in Sweden. I was bilked by a bevy of bosomy broads in Britain, bamboozled by buxomy belles in bawdy Bulgarian boudoirs, and amazed by the amorous advances of Albanian Aphrodites.

         The dull moments of my trip were few and far between. Really, I consider myself lucky to have returned home in one chunk and with my sanity intact. Ladies and gentlemen, our leaders pride themselves on telling how they’re leading us into the “age of technology.” Well now. Their priorities are out of order. I’d like to see them leading us into a civilized age. So each citizen of earth could walk around the equator in a measure of safety…

3

         As a rule and generally speaking, one’s financial standing will dictate his methods of travel. The more successful citizens will fly first-class and sail the seven seas aboard luxury liners. Middle-class folks usually aviate coach style and ply the world’s oceans aboard tramp steamers.

         These are not really important matters so long as the primary objective is attained…arriving at your destination in reasonably good health and with baggage in hand  ( don’t be unduly shocked if’n yer luggage turns up two continents away ).

         But wait, we have a third category of humans moving from point A to point B, nomads involved in a mass intercontinental migration. I speak of paupers and the truly destitute among us…my category! Included are hobos, bums, panhandlers, tramps on the run for a variety of reasons. Maybe he’s fleeing Johnny Law because of serious felony charges, perhaps only flim-flammery, or maybe he’s 16 years behind on child support payments.

         Or, as in my case, maybe he’s merely curious about what his eyes may perceive just over the next hill. What is the mode of dress…which tongue is spoken there? Are the natives cannibalistic, and are their little tummies full? ( ideally, their last meal was consumed only minutes ago. Let the record show that I prefer walkin’ thru villages populated by vegetarians ).

         Which fierce predators roam this region of earth , preying on the weak and innocent, lurking stealthily to claim yet another hapless human victim? ( folks walkin’ at the equator must have an awareness concerning these matters ).

         Are edible nuts and wild berries available in the countryside to sustain energy for the wearisome journey ahead?  ( this type diet is preferable to yer innards growlin’ because of hunger ). Is the sheriff and his posse gaining ground?

         As you can plainly see, poor people constantly have a barrage of questions churning in their minds. And they’d better have answers…quick and correct answers. Cause neighbor, we’re talkin’ survival here!

         Nope, people with lotsa’ money have no worries while traveling around the globe ( except to wonder if their jetliner might be skyjacked or fall from the air ). Rich folks merely adjust their reclining seats, relax by viewing atrocious movies, and watch the amazing world speed by below.

         But influential people are kidding themselves. True enough, rich dudes are aware that a planet earth exists.  However, in their scurrying about to “close the next big deal” they never see the durn thing!

         I mean, zipping along at 600mph while soaring 40,000 feet above terra-firma! The only possible sights are formations of thunderhead clouds and angels peekin' in  to see what’s happening.

         Reported sightings of angels are fairly common in every nook and corner of earth. However, nary a single one has ever been spotted aboard an airliner…only at the windows lookin’ in  ( gremlins are often seen inside airplanes. Passengers have cause for worry when one of these “naughties”comes aboard. Gremlins are an omen of bad things to come. Like fallin’ 35,000 feet and impacting suddenly ).

         Listen at me pal, the world cannot be seen from way up yonder above the clouds. But my modes of travel, admittedly unorthodox in this modern age, allows the very best of viewing. Neighbor, ya’ gotta’ stay on it’s solid surface to see the world…

4

         Rigorous long-distance travel, especially when using my methods, is an exacting vocation and places tremendous pressures and demands on the human body. You’d better be “fit as a fiddle” before setting out on a poor man’s tour of the world. Keep them tender little footsies healthy and in good shape, else you ain’t gonna’make it.

         A tad of advice for those leaving next week. Don’t try to break my record of some 3 years while girdling the globe. Stroll the equator, and points north and south, in a leisurely fashion, the better to absorb the exotic sights and sounds of your home planet.

         Good physical conditioning is crucial, an absolute must for survival out yonder in the hinterlands. The plains of Africa, those nearly impenetrable rain-forests of Southeast Asia and Brazil are inhospitable environs, home to an endless army of critters who are the sworn enemy of man and determined to end the reign of humankind on earth.

         The broad Pacific is an imposing challenge for poor folks crossing on innertubes. Mine wuz in a sad state of disrepair, sprang a leak and deflated completely just as I waded ashore somewhere on the Asian mainland.

         A choppy, storm-filled Atlantic can also cause anxious moments. I utilized logs, locust fence- posts, boards, planks, and a variety of other floating materials to cross that expanse of briny deep. Quite an exhilarating experience.

         One must be spry, agile, nimble and quick when meandering thru strange lands where menace and hostility are constant companions. He’s gotta’ be speedy afoot to have a chance of remaining among the living.

         Slowpokes are doomed out there in the boondocks. Folks who move at a snails pace while walkin’ around the world have exactly the same chance as a snowball in the hands of Lucifer…none.

         Hopefully their demise will come in a quick and merciful fashion. However, the departure from this earth to  ethereal  worlds is often via an agonizingly slow and tortuous route.

         For instance, the big cats have an annoying habit of “toying” with their victims before delivering the fatal coup de grace. Believe me, this is a trying ordeal guaranteed to make the sweat profusely.

         Sharks play a deadly “hide and seek” in murky depths with unfortunate humans who have, in a drunken stupor, fallen overboard from the decks of  Cunard Liners. Then, quite suddenly, old Jaws darts in to chomp down in earnest. A truly gruesome way of  being  dispatched to Heaven or Hell!

         And how about the anaconda, that sinuous, slithering, slimy colossus of the serpentine world? This monster is on record as having attained a 37 foot length , and natives of the Amazon refer to him as “the green death.” Tangle with this writhing ribbon of muscle and your tenure on this third planet from the sun is completed…over and done with. Gigantic coils wrap around…the “big squeeze” has begun.! Good buddy, this snake will dispatch you across the Great River into an unknown beyond.  

         But the anaconda is also slow in doing his thing. His victims are subjected to excruciating pain and torture. Why can’t them there varmints “do a feller in quickly” and thereby reduce the suffering?

         Ladies and gentlemen, a priceless lesson is hidden in those above paragraphs. A few will consider it a valuable lesson, a far greater number will deem it worthless.