Bonobos

Ah, yes, this old doozy. The eternal ski plane question. Indeed, it seems we can’t stop off at a Klondike honky tonk or a Yukon speakeasy without it cropping up. Well, the answer is YES*. We recently purchased from the Finnish Weather Service a used ski plane with tundra/penguin research station/frozen fjord capabilities. “Ice Dancer,” we call her, as she soars off for the permafrost, trailing banners of ice crystals from her wings. And who pilots our little darling, carrying sleek twill Midnight Blues and snug alpaca Pluperfects to the glacial beyond? Why, Buzz Goldrush himself, a grizzled, colorful fellow we stumbled upon eating moose jerkie when our car broke down outside Nome, Alaska. His sobriety may come into question, and he may only have one functioning eye, but his depth perception is impeccable, thanks to a crude form of triangulation using nothing more than his own thumb and a spit of tobacco. So if you see a jaunty puffin of a plane skittering across the sky, ushering our pants northward, give “Ice Dancer” and ol’ Buzz a hearty salute. And if nobody waves back, it’s probably only the Finnish Weather Service.

*Disclaimer: Bonobos may or may not actually own an arctic ski plane